I practically salivated at learning that Liszt had written a biography of his colleague, Chopin. Upon reading it, I was thoroughly disappointed and stopped halfway through. Essentially, the problem stems from the fact that the narrative is full of verbiage that gives almost no facts about Chopin, but engages in endless verbal diarrhea; it seems that Liszt did not actually write the bulk of the book, but some bimbo who had the reputation of loving to talk at length without actually saying anything.Next time I will buy a real biography of Chopin.