Andy Young: Three memorable memoirs

By Andy Young

Anyone who’s lived at least seven decades has likely collected more than enough material to author an engaging autobiography, assuming the individual in question has the necessary time, motivation, imagination, endurance, and writing ability. However, since few possess all of those half-dozen assets in sufficient quantities, there have always been (and likely always will be) far more readers of such chronicles than there will be producers of them.

Many published memoirs are entertaining, inspiring, and thought-provoking. However, all are at least to some extent self-serving, since the writer controls both the anecdotes they’ve chosen to share and the context in which they present them. None of the three life stories I’ve just finished reading is an exception to this.

The authors, who were born in 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s respectively, all share fascinating stories, but the voice(s) they use to express them reveals far more than the tales themselves do.

In Taking the Stand: My Life in the Law, Alan Dershowitz chronicles his rise from humble beginnings to internationally acclaimed and admired litigator, defense lawyer of choice for the rich and famous, sought-after television commentator, and best-selling author. There’s no denying Mr. Dershowitz’s influence and importance. By his account he’ll employ any tactic that’s legal and ethical on behalf of his clients, many of whom he’s represented pro bono. But he also comes across as a world-class namedropper and egotist who’s rarely if ever been wrong. His lengthy (528 pages!) narrative is equal parts of passionate and narcissistic, which may at least partially explain why he’s been so successful. To borrow an old expression, after reading Mr. Dershowitz’s book, I’d like to buy him for what I think he’s worth, and then sell him for what he thinks he’s worth.

Al Pacino’s Sonny Boy is also a renowned individual’s life story, but one featuring numerous co-stars who are portrayed as being equally important to the author’s overall narrative as he himself is. Like Dershowitz’s book, Sonny Boy teems with references to multiple well-known people. But in Pacino’s book, the recognizable names are almost always referred to with gratitude by the author, and when he relates a story where another character comes across as less than attractive, he rarely mentions them by name. Pacino expresses genuine appreciation for his life in general, and for many of the people who’ve helped make it possible in particular. In a business where those who succeed usually possess outsized egos, Mr. Pacino seems an exception. His is a voice that speaks to readers as equals, rather than pontificating down to them.

But the best memoir I’ve read this month is One Stop West of Hinsdale, by Valerie Kuhn Reid. Hers is a clearly told, courageous and unembellished story involving coming of age amidst a family in crisis, the author’s continually-evolving self-awareness, and her ultimately coming to grips with an intensely traumatic past. Her clear, articulate prose, which is presented as a letter to her long-dead father, is rich in detail. The book clearly required extensive research, decades of self-analysis, and plenty of processing of past events that were in many cases undoubtedly as painful to recall as they were to originally experience.

Full disclosure: Ms. Reid is a friend of mine. However, even If I knew nothing about her, I’d recommend One Stop West of Hinsdale to anyone looking for a relatable, eloquently told, painfully honest story of a genuine human being’s ongoing journey of self-discovery.

Want to get rich quick? Go purchase some random item for what you think it’s worth, then turn around and sell it for what I think Ms. Reid and her wonderful book are worth. <