After Sonnenberg left his company, Tambi published two of the festschrifts he had lined up, one for T. S. Eliot and one for Marianne Moore. I got my first job in publishing on the strength of having helped out at Tambi's studio and was happy a couple of years later to publish him, or at least to sign him up. I was long gone from the publishing house by the time the manuscript appeared. When it was really bad, he lived on olives and pimentos from a jar. We were thankful that his drink of choice was beer.
Beer is full of nutrition.
The obituary inside was worse. It trivialized his gifts and his work.