Tag Archives: memoir

Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing

Celebrity autobiography about TV fame, drug addiction and mental health

There have been a lot of celebrity biographies coming out recently, and I’ve listened to Jennette McCurdy‘s and Prince Harry‘s as audiobooks. When I saw that this one had been published, I was pretty interested. Just about everyone has watched the TV show “Friends” (enjoy the now retro Blu-ray trailer!), and the character Chandler was one of the most iconic of the series. When actor Matthew Perry died recently, almost a year after it was published, and it came up on my recommended list, I picked it as my next audiobook.

Image is of the audiobook cover of “Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing” by Matthew Perry. The audiobook cover is a portrait photograph of a white man with blue eyes, stubble, ageing skin and greying styled hair. He is looking at the camera with an almost smile. The words ‘A Memoir’ are on the left.

“Friends, Lovers and the Big Terrible Thing” written and narrated by Matthew Perry is a frank memoir about his life and how he came to be one of the most famous actors on one of the most watched television shows of all time: “Friends”. Perry writes candidly about his experiences growing up in Canada, the child of two charismatic parents whose marriage ended, and his early forays into acting, alcohol and drug abuse. Perry charts his path to winning the role of Chandler on “Friends”, and how despite his immense professional success, he nevertheless continued to struggle with addiction and mental health issues.

I think one of the best things about this memoir that makes it stand out from others is that despite Perry’s fame, it isn’t ghostwritten. Perry has a humorous, self-deprecating way of writing and pulls the reader in with intimate revelations about himself and his life. One thing that has frequently frustrated me with the memoir genre is authors sharing either not enough or far too much, and I felt like Perry really struck the right balance. As challenging as he clearly was as a person (to others but mostly to himself), self-sabotaging constantly and pushing people away even when he was at his most lonely, he makes the reader feel like a confidante. I enjoyed his narration a lot, though I did find it less clear and articulate than his delivery of lines while he was on TV. I was impressed that despite his own frequent relapses, he nevertheless strove to inspire hope to other people struggling with addiction.

It was a bit of a strange experience listening to this book shortly after the news broke that Matthew Perry had died. It really made me read into what he wrote a lot more. While Perry doesn’t claim to have the answers to addiction, the end of the book certainly suggests he is on an up, and suggests that his own brand of spirituality has helped him. However, I think this book really underlines the message that addiction is a disease, often a lifelong one, and there is no easy cure. Perry wrote a lot about his parents, colleagues and former girlfriends, many of whom witnessed his struggles firsthand, and I did find myself wondering how honest those reflections were. Some seemed a bit rose tinted, some seemed a bit unfair and I found myself wondering how the celebrities mentioned would have received it. I think it’s difficult to criticise something so subjective as what causes a person pain and trauma, but as a reader it is a bit hard to accept things that seem relatively minor when that person enjoys enormous success and wealth and has access to the most expensive and cutting edge treatment available. Perry does come across as one of those people who spends an enormous amount of time self-reflecting, but who never seems to gain any real insight into their behaviours and motivations.

A forthright memoir about privilege, success and struggling with mental health.

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Raw Dog: The Naked Truth About Hot Dogs

Blend of memoir and culinary history about hot dogs in the USA

I received a copy of this eBook courtesy of the publisher.

Image is of “Raw Dog: The Naked Truth About Hot Dogs” by Jamie Loftus. The eBook cover is red with the book title drawn on in yellow mustard.

“Raw Dog: The Naked Truth About Hot Dogs” by Jamie Loftus is part memoir, part culinary history about hot dogs in the USA. During 2021, when COVID-19 is at its peak, Jamie, her then-partner, her cat and her dog embark on an ambitious road trip across the country to eat the nation’s most famous hot dogs. Along the way, Loftus explores the history, politics and ethics of this unassuming American food, the world of competitive eating and the limits of her relationship.

This book starts out really strong. Loftus brings a hilarious Gonzo journalism style of writing which is highly entertaining. I really enjoyed learning about some of the darker aspects of the history of the hot dog, including issues around animal welfare, exploitation in food production and the gentrification of what was previously considered a lower socio-economic food. I had high hopes that it would be the kind of fantastic blended genre memoir like “Hare with Amber Eyes” or “H is for Hawk“.

However, like the hot dog eating competitions described throughout this book, what starts out good soon becomes too much and by halfway through the book I was feeling as stuffed full of hot dogs as the competitors. I think the balance tipped a little too far into describing hot dog styles, restaurants and their owners, and the ins and outs of competitive hot dog eating. By the time the book finished, I was well and truly done.

An entertaining if somewhat bloated book about hot dogs.

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first, we make the beast beautiful: a new story about anxiety

Self-help memoir about coping with anxiety

I don’t usually peruse the non-fiction section at the Lifeline Bookfair, but the cover of this book definitely caught my eye. The hardcover book is a deep blue with striking orange bubbles, and text in silver foil. This has languished on my to-read pile for a long time because I incorrectly assumed it was fiction (it is not), and when I realised it was more self-help/memoir, I lost a bit of interest.

Photo is of “first, we make the beast beautiful: a new story about anxiety” by Sarah Wilson. The hardcover book is sitting inside a black backpack which is resting against a large grey rock. The cover is dark blue with an octopus in lighter blue and neon orange bubbles.

“first, we make the beast beautiful: a new story about anxiety” by Sarah Wilson is part memoir, part self-help book about living with anxiety. Sharing her own personal experiences with mental health diagnoses, medication, therapy and many other strategies for mitigating and managing symptoms, Wilson intersperses her book with tips and tricks that she recommends for others going through similar things.

This is a well-written and frank memoir about the realities and challenges of living with mental illness. Wilson achieves what few memoirs do: a good balance between sharing too much and not sharing enough.

However, ultimately I find self-help books a bit challenging and very rarely read them. I am always a bit skeptical of books that claim to have all the answers. Wilson’s book refers to a considerable amount of research that is available to read via her website, and includes a lot of suggestions that are pretty straightforward and uncontroversial such as exercise and meditation. However, the book also includes a lot of alternative therapies and treatments the science of which, as Wilson says at the beginning of the book, “is often imprecise and conflicting”. The book also ties a lot into Wilson’s existing other work, books recipes, programs and business around quitting sugar. While I’m no nutritionist, blanket cutting out of food from diets isn’t supported by the qualified nutritionists I do follow (e.g. Kate and Emma). I am not judging anyone who wants to explore options for weight loss or manage their anxiety symptoms, but I think some of the suggestions in here should probably be taken with a grain of salt (or, as it happens, sugar).

A well-written book and could be very relatable if you are experiencing anxiety, but I’d encourage you to seek professional advice if you are seeking mental health support.

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Spare

I am in no way a royalist, but with TV shows like The Crown and never-ending news coverage of royal drama, it was a bit hard to avoid hearing about this book. It generated a bit of a media storm when it came out, with plenty of eyebrow-raising quotes being eagerly shared by news outlets – especially those related to Prince Harry’s sex life. Ultimately, it was curiosity that let me to spending a credit on this audiobook.

Image is of “Spare” by Prince Harry. The audiobook cover is a slightly faded portrait photograph of a white man with red hair, blue eyes and a red beard.

“Spare” by Prince Harry, narrated by Prince Harry and ghostwritten by J. R. Moehringer is a memoir about growing up third in line to the British throne. In this book, Prince Harry shares pivotal moments in his life including losing his mother Princess Diana as a young boy, serving in the military in Afghanistan, travelling in Africa and meeting his wife Meghan Markle. He also shares his experiences being relentlessly pursued by the media and struggling to find his place in a family where living a normal life is impossible.

This was a surprisingly easy book to listen to. Despite admitting himself that he is no scholar, Prince Harry is a lively, enthusiastic and expressive narrator who threw himself headlong into the task. His early years were particularly interesting, especially seeing the other side of news reports that had branded him a wild child and considering the impact of having adolescent mistakes, that many people could forget and move on from, becoming international news. The most heartbreaking parts of the book were around the loss of his mother, and Prince Harry’s grief and his fury towards the paparazzi ripple throughout. I felt like Prince Harry was very frank about his shortcomings, but equally open about how challenging it was for him as someone who craved being an ordinary sort of man but being unable to live an ordinary life, not even, ultimately, as a soldier. It was abundantly clear that Prince Harry feared the same thing that happened to his mother was going to happen to his wife, and his hatred of the media became more understandable. I was fascinated to read about the rest of the royal family’s complex interactions with the media, particularly the competition for publicity, the leaks coming from inside the house and the symbiotic yet often toxic relationship.

As I have mentioned many times previously, memoir is and continues to be a genre that I struggle with, especially when it comes to finding a balance in how much to share with the reader. There were many parts of this book that were intensely personal, and as a reader left me feeling like I was reading Prince Harry’s private journal. This was especially true for parts of the book that had a slightly more spiritual tone, where Prince Harry interprets certain events as being ‘fate’, or signs of approval from his mother, or messages from the broader universe. I also found myself wondering what the purpose of sharing some of the more intimate details of his life was; whether it was a strategic marketing decision to generate more hype and controversy around the book, or whether because Prince Harry was using the book as a sort of catharsis, processing his life in a very public way. Conversely, I felt like I was left with many questions about his various disputes with other members of the royal family. Despite how the book has been reported, I actually felt like Prince Harry was very circumspect in talking about his family. If the book was intended to be a response to the media’s characterisation of the relationships within his family, I’m not sure it achieved that goal.

A surprisingly entertaining book that at times left me wanting more and at others left me wanting less.

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Dirty Little Secrets: A Memoir

Memoir about love, identity, blackmail and living with an acquired brain injury

I received a copy of this book courtesy of the author.

Image is of “Dirty Little Secrets: A Memoir” by Nandita Chakraborty. The eBook cover is of a white globe with buildings from the city of Melbourne against a blue background on top, and buildings from the city of the city of Delhi against a yellow background at the bottom.

“Dirty Little Secrets: A Memoir” is a memoir by Nandita Chakraborty, an adventurous young woman, unlucky in love, who is living and working in Melbourne. However, when a relationship turns from bad to worse resulting in Nandita being blackmailed, she returns home to her family in Delhi. There she finds comfort and community, but adventure and independence still beckon. When Nandita comes back to Melbourne with a fresh outlook, everything is shaken up once again with an unexpected accident.

This is an interesting and intimate book about trying to navigate your way as an adult, between cultures, between toxic relationships, and between unforeseen disasters. Nandita is a courageous, outgoing, free spirit who has a knack for finding her way and making friends no matter how difficult things get. I thought that Nandita showed incredible resilience and I especially enjoyed the chapters set in Delhi.

Like all memoir, there is often a lot left unsaid and I did have some questions about exactly what led to some of the conflicts Nandita describes throughout the book. However, I also appreciated how frank Nandita is about the effects of living with an acquired brain injury – an invisible disability.

A unique story told from a unique perspective.

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Echoes

Short collection of personal essays about connection with heritage

This book is by a (former) Canberra writer and I was very eager to buy a copy when it was first published in 2020. However, due to the pandemic my opportunities to find a copy in a bricks and mortar store were limited so eventually I ordered a copy online. It was the perfect length for my Short Stack Reading Challenge.

Photo is of “Echoes” by Shu-Ling Chua. The paperback book is leaning against a white surface, and is reflected in a mirror. The bottom of a black dress hovers above the grey carpet. The cover is is a composite photograph of a record and tonearm, a compact mirror and washing machines. The entire photo is in greyscale.

“Echoes” By Shu-Ling Chua is a collection of three essays: (Im)material Inheritances, Echoes and To Fish for the Moon. The first essay explores Chua’s enjoyment of clothing and dressing up, the second essay is about the nostalgia and frisson of listening to Cantonese and Mandarin music, and the resonance of washing machines.

Chua’s essays examine the loss, maintenance and rediscovery of culture as a young Australian woman of Chinese-Malaysian heritage. Chua writing is steeped with emotional responses to everyday experiences, and are easy to read and engage with. The essays read like a collection of thoughts, memories and research, but all clearly linked together by theme.

In (Im)material Inheritances, Chua finds similarities with and differences to how her mother and Ah Ma engage with fashion, makeup and appearances. The motifs of mirrors and vintage and bargain fashion evoke a sense of introspection and balance. I particularly connected with the reference to Sungai Wang, a shopping mall in Kuala Lumpur I used to visit all the time. In Echoes, Chua shares her longing to sing along to and translate the nuance of lyrics to Cantonese and Mandarin songs. While acknowledging that there is a barrier between the present and the past, Chua is nevertheless able to connect deeply with the music. To Fish for the Moon is a meditation on the intersection between thriftiness, water and washing clothes. Chua writes about the drivers behind her ancestors’ migration from China to South East Asia, and the fate-changing lottery that led her great-grandfather to open a laundry in Malaysia.

Very readable and very relatable, I really enjoyed this little collection.

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I’m Glad My Mom Died

Memoir about being a child actor with an abusive mother

Content warning: child abuse, emotional abuse, eating disorders, sexual harassment

I 100% chose this book for the provocative title. I was couple of years too old to be the target audience for this author’s breakout role in the Nickelodeon TV series “iCarly“, so I wasn’t familiar with her work or fame but when I saw this book come up I thought it would be an interesting one to listen to while out jogging.

Image is of “I’m Glad My Mom Died” by Jennette McCurdy. The audiobook cover is of the author, a young white woman wearing dusky pink clothing and holding a bubblegum pink urn that has confetti coming out of the top.

“I’m Glad My Mom Died” written and narrated by Jennette McCurdy is a memoir about her life as a child actor. The book opens with Jennette visiting her mother who is unconscious and dying of cancer. In an attempt to get her mother to wake up, Jennette tries to tell her mother something that she will be really proud of: that she is very thin. The story then goes back to Jennette’s early life and her mother’s desire that Jennette become famous. Initially, Jennette will do anything to make her mother, who is a cancer survivor, happy. However, as Jennette grows older, she soon realises that she actually doesn’t enjoy acting. The pressure caused by the auditions and pursuit of perfection starts to take a toll on her, but the successes seem to make her mother happy and start to bring in some income for the family. When Jennette lands a role on the TV series iCarly, her fame becomes a rollercoaster that she cannot get off. However, it is a rollercoaster that takes her away from her mother’s control and slowly, painfully and with many bumps along the way towards independence.

This was a captivating, heart-breaking story that was beautifully and expertly narrated by McCurdy herself. I think given the public fascination with celebrities and TV stars, it is easy to think that become famous must be a wonderful and easy life. Some of the pressure has been highlighted in reality TV shows like “Dance Moms“, but these highly scripted shows often focus more on the adults and the competition. It was truly illuminating hearing from someone who was for all intents and purposes forced into the life of a TV star, and truly heartbreaking hearing the impact on her through vulnerability to controlling behaviour, condoned and encouraged eating disorders and poor mental health. I think, however, the most devastating part of this book was how little the rest of her family and the television industry intervened in what everyone could see as abuse from her mother. There were also some really horrifying stories about behaviour from men in positions of power on the shows Jennette was appearing on. McCurdy has a warm, slightly sardonic style and a clarity of voice that other ghostwritten memoirs don’t seem to always have.

A challenging and honest memoir that reveals the darker sides of the dream being a child actor in Hollywood.

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Bedtime Story

Memoir about a mother trying to explain cancer to her son

Content warning: death, cancer

There has been a lot of loss in my family this year. When looking for my next audiobook to keep me company while running and gardening, I came across this one. Although I read one of this author’s books previously and didn’t love it, I thought that something to help me make sense of grief would be helpful.

Image is of “Bedtime Story” by Chloe Hooper. The audiobook cover is of a starry sky with copper coloured text over the top.

“Bedtime Story” by Chloe Hooper and narrated by Lisa McCune is a memoir about Hooper’s partner’s cancer diagnosis. Narrated in the second person to her eldest son, Hooper turns to children’s literature to try to find a way to explain the diagnosis to her children. However, she soon finds that most children’s literature is manifestly inadequate when it comes to explaining death and mortality. As her partner grows more unwell as treatment progresses, Hooper puts off the explanation further. However, she finds that her son picks up more than she thinks and finds his own ways of making sense of what is happening to their family.

This is a thoughtful, gentle book that grapples with how we break terrible news to children. I enjoyed Hooper’s exploration of different examples of children’s literature and they ways in which they do (or do not) deal with death. Second person narratives are a relatively unusual form of storytelling and one that I think worked well for the subject-matter. McCune’s narration captured the tone really well. It is matter of fact but sensitive, soft but clear.

I think this was probably not the right book for me at this time. I think this is a book for someone who is pre-grief; who is dealing with life-shattering news but the axe has not yet fallen. Someone who is dealing with waiting and who is hoping for the best but expecting the worst. I realised too late that this book is actually illustrated and for that reason alone, I do regret listening to the audiobook version because of course they weren’t included.

An introspective story about dealing with difficult news as a family.

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The White Book

A meditation on grief and the colour white

Content warning: death of a child

I first read a book by this author five years ago and I have been so eager to read more of her work ever since. I actually presented on this book for the Asia Bookroom‘s book club, so when I saw this book listed on this year’s reading list, I put it directly in my diary and made sure I was there. It’s a really great book club full of really knowledgeable, thoughtful people and as always I had a wonderful time and learned a lot.

Image is of “The White Book” by Han Kang. The paper back book is resting on white lace fabric surrounded by white paper, a small white bowl of uncooked rice and two white dog paws. The cover is completely white with black text in English and Korean.

“The White Book” by Han Kang and translated by Deborah Smith almost defies being placed in a genre but I think perhaps it falls somewhere between creative non-fiction, fictionalised autobiography and experimental writing. Broken into micro-essays each centred on a different white thing, the book reflects on how trauma echoes through a city destroyed by war decades on and how family trauma similarly echoes across a lifetime.

This is an excellent book that is utterly mesmerising. The structure forces you as a reader to take your time and savour each part but it is at the same time completely readable. Kan is a writer of exceptional talent and not a single word in this book is superfluous. Smith, who is also the founder of Tilted Axis Press, should also be commended for her translation. Some of these micro-chapters are absolutely haunting and although this book is only of novella length, there was no shortage of themes to discuss during the book club. One of the most poignant parts for me was the narrator’s reflection that after the loss of her childhood dog, she was so afraid of getting close to another dog and risking that grief again that she wouldn’t even pat one. Similarly, the reverberated pain of the narrator’s older sister dying shortly after birth affects her own willingness to have children. The other harrowing thoughts that occupy the narrator’s mind include the guilt of having lived, and whether, had her sister survived, she would have been born at all. Although never mentioned by name, Warsaw in winter provides a bleak backdrop but also a blank canvas against which the narrator meditates on the colour white and all the things in her life it symbolises. The book ends with multiple white pages, and I thought that was an excellent touch.

I think the only thing that didn’t quite work with this book was, actually, not the writing. There are black and white photographs interspersed throughout the book of the author interacting with white objects. I didn’t mind the photography per se, but I didn’t feel like the design within the book itself worked well. For example, one image was spread across two pages but the book binding didn’t allow for the whole image to be seen which made it lose a lot of impact.

However, this is without a doubt a beautiful book at the cutting edge of literature and that cuts right to the heart of our humanity.

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Growing Up Disabled in Australia

Non-fiction anthology of essays and memoir by people who grew up disabled in Australia

Note: in this review I used the terms disabled person and person with a disability interchangeably to reflect that some people prefer person-first language and some people prefer identity-first language

Content warning: bullying

I received a copy of this eBook courtesy of the publisher. I was really excited to receive a copy of this book because I had read another book in the excellent “Growing Up” series. I also read the editor’s memoir and was very confident that this was going to be a well-curated collection.

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Image is of a digital book cover of “Growing Up Disabled in Australia” edited by Carly Findlay. The cover is white text on a background of blocky paint strokes in pink, yellow and turquoise.

“Growing Up Disabled in Australia” edited by Carly Findlay is an anthology of short autobiographies by 47 disabled people. The contributors, who come from an incredibly diverse range of backgrounds and cultures, have a very diverse range of disabilities and perspectives. There are some well-known people including Senator Jordan Steele-John, and plenty of people who are not so well known but whose stories are just as important.

This is a really well-rounded collection that showcases the myriad of experiences people with disability have in this country. Disabilities can affect mobility, senses, learning, mental health, chronic health and cognitive ability. They can be caused by genetics, illnesses or injuries. Something that I think a lot of people don’t consider is that people may have more than one disability, and I thought that Dion Beasley’s piece To Lake Nash and Back about growing up Aboriginal, Deaf and with muscular dystrophy in the Northern Territory surrounded by love, family and dogs particularly captured this intersectional experience and the importance of accessibility and community. C. B. Mako uses free verse poetry in December Three to succinctly how a person with two disabilities who is also a carer, a parent and a member of the migrant community can be excluded from all of those identities.

This book is full of exceptional creativity and I really enjoyed the variety of styles each piece was presented in. Kerry-ann Messengers two poems ‘Life Goes On’ and ‘The Blue Rose’ explored the depth of emotional reaction, positive and negative, that people have towards her as a person with Down Syndrome. Tim Slade’s poem A Body’s Civil War explores the sense of destabilisation living with auto-immune conditions where your body attacks itself. I really loved Sarah Firth’s comic Drawing My Way which gave a practical example of alternative ways information can be presented to assist people with learning disabilities like dyslexia.

Although there each contributor’s experience is unique, nuanced and impacted by other factors such as race, gender, class and cultural background, there were common themes that wove their way through the book. I was surprised at how many contributors wrote about the significance of animals, particularly dogs, in staving off feelings of isolation and loneliness (though I particularly enjoyed Iman Shaanu’s subversive piece Blurred Lines where she writes “For the record, I hate dogs and would prefer a guide cat if that was a thing”). Hippotherapy by Alistair Baldwin was a particularly wry piece about the ubiquitous experience of horse-riding as an activity for disabled kids. At a time when everyone is talking about vaccinations, it was really poignant to read about two contributors, Gayle Kennedy and Fran Henke, who each wrote about the lasting impact of contracting polio, a disease that has been eradicated in Australia through vaccination programs but that continues to affect people of older generations.

However two of the common themes that were the hardest to read about were bullying and lack of accessibility. Jessica Newman-Marshall’s piece Dressing to Survive describes the cruel judgment and bullying she received as a person with a disability that affects not just mobility but causes her to have a very low BMI in a world that constantly scrutinises women for their weight. Kath Duncan, writes in Born Special about the prejudice and bullying she experienced growing up with missing limbs and reclaiming the word ‘Freak’ for herself.

However not everyone with a disability is bullied. Belinda Downes, in writing about her facial difference and disability in Having a Voice, reflects on how it is not her appearance that has made things most difficult for her, but rather people in her life deciding on her behalf what is best for her in terms of corrective surgery and accessibility needs. In Forever Fixing, El Gibbs writes about living with the chronic skin condition psoriasis and how learning about the social model of disability helped her to find a community and see barriers to access, rather than herself, as the problem.

There are a multitude of other things that I could write about this book, but I will finish off to say that this is an incredibly important work that highlights the fact that there is no single disabled experience and that the biggest barriers for people with disabilities are systemic.

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