I didn't know what to expect when my agent plopped this curiously titled book on my desk. A biography written by someone who hasn't actually done anything? It seemed absurd. Nevertheless, I tore myself away from Tuesdays With Morrie and tucked in to Harry's prose.
It takes about one short chapter before you're completely overwhelmed with self-indulgence. Henceforth, it's a feat of endurance to get through the remaining 852 pages. It seems his only goal in writing this book is to try to convince the public of how great he is, and, ironically, it has just the opposite effect. Maybe if the public had actually heard of him, or had evidence of his claimed achievements – creating Rock 'n' Roll, ghost writing The Feminine Mystique – they would be less cautious in taking to him; but, as it stands, we're left to wonder how such a monstrously awful pile of ill-constructed sentences slipped through the rarely open gates of that ruthlessly infamous publisher.
But don't take my word for it, let the 'Amazing Mr. Brimage' speak for himself:
"As much as I hate the term, I am a genius. [sic] I do have above ordinary intelligence. And what's more, I know it. To some of those 'cultured' cretins, this comes across as arrogance, but I beg to differ. Show me one humble genius and I'll eat my words. Anyway, as I was saying, I'm a genius. And not just any genius, the genius. I could have saved Galileo a lot of trouble had I been around to show him the only true star. But you get the picture: I'm a genius."
Yup, I got the picture, all right.
And this sort of guff which can extend anywhere from 2 to 50 pages:
"I know how to love a woman. The problem is, they rarely know how to love me. It seems they're 'intimidated' by my superior intellect. It's unfortunate that there aren't many smart women around these days. Luckily, I'm more then enough company for myself – but there are those times – usually in winter – when nothing will warm me quite like another beating heart. This feeling usual wears off after I've finished, but it's enough to make me yearn for better days."
But all in all, it's a masterpiece. A telling and moving self portrait that succeeds in illuminating the flaws in modern day society. Harry is a major talent and I look forward to his next book with juicy school boy anticipation.
Duck, Duck, Cockatiel
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The move is officially complete, though I'm still living with a few islands
of stuff—the main one located in what agents like to call the "meals area".
Rea...
7 years ago
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