Early nineteenth Century Photographer Edward S. Curtis quickly acquired several nicknames from the various American Indian tribes that he visited to document their way of life. "Shadow Catcher" was the one that most referred to his ability to capture images on his camera. "The Man Who Sleeps on His Breath" referred to his use of an inflatable mattress that he blew up by blowing air into it every night before going to sleep. Near the end of his life, Curtis would apply another nickname to himself. "Following the Indian form of naming men, I would be termed, `The Man Who never Took Time to Play.'" He'd come up with this nickname after discussing his work habits. "It's safe to say that in the last fifty years I have averaged sixteen hours a day, seven days a week" working to complete my documentation of "The North American Indian." Curtis was an "Indiana Jones" with a camera. Over his long and productive life he managed to take 40,000 photos using a large camera format and glass plate (14 X17 inch) negatives of Native Americans as they were disappearing from the American scene. He also recorded 10,000 Indian songs on wax cylinders, "wrote down vocabularies and pronunciation guides for 75 languages, and transcribed an incalculable number of myths, rituals and religious stories from oral history." He also transferred his music recordings to actual sheet music.He was famous during the first part of his monumental Native American documentation. He was a personal friend of President Teddy Roosevelt and sponsored by J.P. Morgan. Curtis enjoyed great public acclaim for his 20 volume history series. He was an international celebrity. However, his 33-year project wasn't finally completed until long after its novelty with the public had vanished.Because Curtis was a terrible businessman J.P. Morgan accepted his offer to personally work for free. Morgan only paid for his expeditions and the eventual printing of the books. Morgan eventually also ended up with all rights to Curtis's life of cutting edge work. J.P. knew a bargain when it was offered to him.In 2009, during that deep economic recession, a single set of the 20 Volume series sold at auction for $1.8 million dollars. The value of the work was finally being realized by the public. "Curtis was the first person to conduct a thorough historical autopsy of the Battle of the Little Bighorn, from both the Indians side and that of the cavalry." He walked the battleground with men who had actually taken part in the battle. His revelations were deemed too explosive to publish in his Magnus Opus and shelved until future generations could bear to hear the truths he recorded. He produced one of the first documentary films about the Indians titled "In the Land of the Head-Hunters." After a much-heralded début, the film was tied up in legal problems with the distributor and disappeared for 33 years. Like all of his work with Native Americans Curtis never made a dime and actually lost money on his monumental works and died dirt poor in the smog choked slums of Beverly Hills, CA. No kidding, Beverly Hills had some slums. This highly readable, illustrated biography was one of the most enjoyable books this reviewer has read in years. As an ex-photographer, would-be adventurer, art and book collector this book's subject fascinated me. When I was traveling around the Amazon Basin in the 1960s taking photographs for National Geographic, I too loved to take pictures of Amazon Indians. However, I would not have gone one step out of my way to photograph cannibals or head hunters unless I was certain of remaining safe throughout the experience.Curtis was a much more adventurous soul than this reviewer. He also had incredible stamina and was able to work 24/7/365 almost without sleep in locations almost unfit for human existance. He was driven by his desire to capture an important part of world history that was dying so fast he knew he'd never be able to document it all for posterity. He was constantly aware that the images and information he sought were disappearing every day and would soon be lost forever. Curtis had discovered photography almost by accident. He later opened his eyes up to the Native Americans living in squalor in his hometown of Seattle. Although the city is named after the great chief, Seattle, Indians were not allowed to live within the city limits. Like so many photographers, he realized the need to photograph the disappearing Native American Culture because it was happening all around him and most of the population failed to see it much less care about it. At the same time I was reading this wonderful biography that picked up speed as it progressed, I was also reading "Edward S. Curtis: Visions of the First Americans" by Don Gulbrandsen. That large coffee table book includes more than 300 photographs by Edwin S. Curtis. Many of those photographs are reproduced in the same size and format as the original glass plate negatives. If ever there were two books that should be read together as a set, these two books are they. Reading the descriptions of the struggles of taking certain photographs in Egan's excellent biography makes it much easier to better appreciate some of the nuances of the reproductions in Gulbrandsen's collection of actual Curtis images of a now vanished world.