210 pages, Paperback
First published January 1,1988
I didn't give up on this book, but I admit that there were some pages that I skipped. I really like Philip Roth, very much indeed. However, this autobiography didn't add anything to what I wanted to know about him.
I found the part about his childhood interesting, the experience in the Jewish community, the pride his family had in it, and the admiration for his father's professional ascent. After that, Roth talks about his college years, the choice of college, the people he met, the professors he knew, and the girls he met. And from here he moves on to the one who, ironically, he calls "the girl of his dreams", a woman with a disastrous childhood and youth who tries to make Roth's life the same way. I confess that this part bored me, although it served as inspiration for one of his books whose title I don't remember but which I think isn't translated in Portugal.
Finally, he reflects on the opposition of the Jewish community to his book Goodbye, Columbus (which I really liked) and also ends up talking a little about Portnoy's Complaint (which I didn't like at all).
In summary: a book with some interest but from which I didn't learn much and a book completely dispensable for those who have never read Philip Roth.
Your acquaintance with the facts, your sense of facts, is much less developed than your understanding, your intuitive weighing and balancing of fiction. You make a fictional world that is far more exciting than the world it comes out of. My guess is that you've written metamorphoses of yourself so many times, you no longer have any idea what you are or ever were. By now what you are is a walking text.... What one chooses to reveal in fiction is governed by a motive fundamentally aesthetic; we judge the author of a novel by how well he or she tells the story. But we judge morally the author of an autobiography, whose governing motive is primarily ethical as against aesthetic. How close is the narration to the truth? Is the author hiding his or her motives, presenting his or her actions and thoughts to lay bare the essential nature of conditions or trying to hide something, telling in order not to tell? Is this really "you" or is it what you want to look like to your readers at the age of fifty-five?Through an almost Freudian rant at the conclusion of the book, Roth seems to be critiquing himself and the entire genre of autobiography. This shift to meta-narrative should not astonish any Roth enthusiasts. Although I was hoping for something a bit more substantial and not overly obsessive (over his deceased ex-wife) in the main body of the book. Nevertheless, it is enjoyable and enlightening about a writer I adore.