Gloss Book Club - October 14, 2025

Christopher Shaw Myers’ biography of his uncle is a richly detailed, deeply felt portrait that refuses both gossip and hagiography. Best known as Quint in Jaws, Robert Shaw emerges not as a single legend but as a prism of contradictions—disciplined actor and unruly spirit, dazzling collaborator and difficult father, public bravado masking private fragility.

What distinguishes this book is the family vantage point Myers brings to the page. He doesn’t just recount the mythos of Martha’s Vineyard or the greatest hits of a filmography; he builds the narrative from within the Shaw household, and crucially, he writes alongside the presence of two strong female witnesses: his mother and his sister. Their memories, letters, and clear-eyed judgments complicate the lore around Robert Shaw, counterbalancing the familiar industry anecdotes with domestic truth. The result is a biography with multiple centers of gravity: not only the marquee roles and the theatre’s footlights, but also the kitchen table—where love, anger, and loyalty were negotiated in real time.

Myers handles the Jaws material with verve—the busted mechanical shark, the weather, the egos, the miracle of a movie that should have sunk—but the book’s power resides in the quiet, post-shoot aftermaths. Through his mother’s steadiness and his sister’s unsparing candor, we see a man shaped by an Orkney childhood shadowed by loss, and by a lifelong oscillation between artistic rigor and self-sabotage. These women anchor the story; their testimony keeps the narrative honest when nostalgia threatens to blur it.

The prose is lucid and restrained, guided by a novelist’s sense of scene and a historian’s respect for record. Myers gives Shaw’s theatrical roots their due—postwar British stagecraft, the making of a writer-performer—while situating Jaws as both apotheosis and accelerant. He’s generous to colleagues without flattering them, and unsparing about the costs of charisma at home.

Ultimately, this is a book about legacy—how art, damage, and devotion reverberate across generations. By weaving in the perspectives of his mother and sister, Myers offers a rare, triangulated portrait: the star as co-worker, as relative, as problem, as pride. In peeling away the caricature of the man who faced the great white shark, he restores the harder, finer truth of a life lived at full voltage.

Verdict: An elegant, intimate biography—distinct for its female family voices—that reclaims Robert Shaw from myth and restores his humanity. Cinephiles and readers of literary nonfiction will find it resonant and unforgettable.