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Title: An Unmemorable Memoir
Review: In one word, I found this book to be "junk". It's a perfect example of how vacuous our culture has become, and what now passes for good writing is a shallow piece of nothing like this. Whether it's true or not, there is absolutely no depth of feeling or analysis. After awhile the quality of shock wore off, and I put the book down thinking to myself: "Who cares?"The accolades poured on this book astonish me now that I've read it. I will be extremely vigilant about picking up a "memoir" from now on. It seems people have become a little too navel-gazey for my taste, thinking their story has something unique or special or in this case, quirky, that the world must know about. Perhaps that should be one of the criteria for a writer undertaking a memoir of him/herself: how badly does the world need another one of these, and am I really so special that everyone needs to know about me?
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