The first two-thirds of the book reads like something out of some tabloids. You get the view of a dusturbed young man.

The last third is a painful idol-portrait where the subject is forgiven everything and the authors can't stop drooling over the genius of Steve Jobs. Pathetic is probably the right word to describe this part.

Personally, I would avoid this book, as it is definetely not good writing, nor a good, independent biography over Steve Jobs.