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Title: Tawdry Memoir
Review: Blair Tindall has done some real damage to her fledgling career as a Serious Journalist with this tawdry memoir. A bildungsroman this is not: she exhibits no self-knowledge and has apparently gained little wisdom in all of her misspent years. She whines about work and income that plenty of conservatory graduates would be ecstatic to have. She gratuitously trashes those who have helped her and goes out of her way to hurt former lovers and colleagues; there is more than a whiff of vengeance in these pages. Interspersed with her fond reminiscences of sex and drugs are longueurs detailing the rise of orchestras and the life of musicians, but she breaks no new ground here. She is shameless enough to dedicate this sad tale to her parents. Is she really so deluded that she can think that they would be proud of this ill-considered effort?
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