It was in the early 1980s that I first encountered the legendary public-relations guru Herbert Breslin.(On the Beat)

It was in the early 1980s that I first encountered the legendary public-relations guru HERBERT BRESLIN. I was working in the concert division of Manhattan's Ninety-second Street YMHA, and he telephoned to complain about some alleged mishandling of his client VICTORIA DE LOS ANGELES. My first reaction was that he was a foul-mouthed gasbag. I have since changed my opinion. I now think he's a likable foul-mouthed gasbag. But like him or hate him, it's hard to argue with about 95 percent of Breslin's trenchant observations on the state of the music industry today. He has recorded many of those observations in a new book, The King and I, coauthored with The New York Times's ANNE MIDGETTE; their opus is due out this month from Doubleday/Broadway. The "King," of course, is Breslin's number-one client, LUCIANO PAVAROTTI, and the book charts Breslin's Herculean efforts in helping Pavarotti move from gifted tenor to international phenomenon. Along the way, he has much to say about JOAN SUTHERLAND, JAMES LEVINE, MARILYN HORNE and many other luminaries in the business.

Recently I met with Breslin and Midgette to discuss the book's evolution. Prior to discussing the project, they had only a telephone relationship, which came about when she was working on a November 1998 cover story on Pavarotti for OPERA NEWS. In Midgette's presence, Breslin says, "She impressed me as being something of a pain in the ass, because she was very picky, and trying to get Anne and Luciano together turned out to be kind of a headache." Midgette shoots back, "Partly because you scheduled Luciano for an interview at a time when you knew he was not going to be available." I'm beginning to realize how their voices dovetail so seamlessly in The King and I.

The book is far from being a hatchet job on Pavarotti, with whom Breslin broke a couple of years ago after a more than thirty-year relationship. Quite the contrary. "What I have to say negatively about Luciano doesn't take away from the fact that he was the greatest tenor of our generation, and probably for two or three generations. There are a lot of people who are angry with Luciano, but I don't happen to be one of those. Luciano doesn't create anger. He's not the sort of person who gets you pissed off. He gets you jealous. He gets you annoyed--you know, 'Why is he so successful and I'm not?' People in my business would always say, 'I want the Pavarotti treatment.' And I would say, 'I wish I could ...