I agree that her book is interesting, but disappointing. The narrative is scattered and the chronology isn't tight enough to navigate us through what I find to be the most interesting decades ever (60s & 70s). I read it all in one sitting three weeks ago, and something about it has nagged me in the back of my mind since then. She wrote that she never wanted to write a memior, and I think I might know why - she is, perhaps, the kind of person who has simply lived her life rather than analyzed it.
Hollywood memiors tend to come in a few different flavors - deep dish gossips, straight forward behind-the-scenes perspectives, searing confessionals, and recently the "what a long strange trip it's been" boomer variety. Teri's book has elements of all those, but she seems unwilling to commit to each approach. Perhaps she needed a stronger ghost writer and/or editor to keep her focused. I can't honestly say that I feel like I know her, unlike after reading most autobiographies. Even though she shares some of her most personal details, her writing style is strangely detached - it's almost as if she never really sat down and thought about her life until now, and we are witnessing her first attempts to make sense of it all. We've all read books by celebrities who have spent the last 20 years in thought or therapy, and with their often-brutal honesty they can make you feel that you're sharing their journey. We see the rudiments of that in Teri's book, but she never lets us get under her skin much.
No doubt I'm picking a nit and most of us just want a breezy read by our favorite sexy and quirky actress/commedienne. Fair enough. But what a life she's had - she was seemingly in the middle of every scene that later became iconic - the Hollywood youth culture of the 60s, the New York comedy and art movements, and the best remnants of those that continued into the 80s & 90s...and apparently it all rolled off her back. Or if it affected her deeply, then she's not telling us.
reply
share