Two Book Reviews
Jul. 21st, 2005 03:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
omorkaSo I never got around to reviewing the two books I read over the Mississippi trip. Let me rectify that:
Review #1: There and Back Again: An Actor's Tale, by Sean Astin and Joe Layden
Okay, if you're not a fan of either Sean Astin as an actor or the LotR movies as films, there is absolutely no point in your reading this. It isn't, strictly speaking, a full (auto)biography of Astin, as it really only covers the time period from shortly before the films were made to just after the Oscars sweep; those looking for insight into, say, The Goonies will be disappointed (although he does tell one or two anecdotes from that as an aside). The first few chapters describe his early adult career, his meeting his wife and his marriage, and the making of Rudy. After that, it's LotR from the perspective of the less-well-known of the two American actors - and a lot of it is Astin, a Hollywood brat to the core, describing how different making this film is from any other film that was ever made, from his bluntly egocentric perspective.
Have you listened to the cast commentaries on the three Extended Editions of the films? Did Sean drive you nuts on those? If so, you'll never make it through the book. It's 308 pages of that exact same tone. Astin is a bit full of himself, and fully aware of the fact (and periodically apologetic for it). My best guess is that he dictated the book to Layden, who pretty much took down what he said directly and edited it to eliminate the run-ons - his voice comes through quite clearly (so much so that I would occasionally go back and re-read a paragraph at a slower rate so as to mentally listen to it in Astin's voice). Fortunately for me, I find his peculiar combination of egomania and self-doubting neurosis rather endearing. He constantly compares himself to other actors in the film, usually unfavorably to himself, and admits to friction within the cast (in particular, him and McKellen, and to a slightly lesser extent him and Bloom) on occasion. He also points out how his relationship with Jackson changed over the course of the shooting, from close to very distant to fairly close again.
He also bitches about his weight throughout the whole book. The whole book, mind; apparently one of the reasons gaining so much weight for Sam bothered him so much is that he has had Weight Issues since his teens, well before anyone asked him to play the part, and his weight has yo-yoed a couple of times since the end of principal photography (which explains in part why some of his pick-ups are obvious and some aren't). Again, since this is one of my issues as well, I sympathize, but if you're the type who finds people griping about their weight or body shape intolerable, be warned that it's a significant chunk of the book, a recurring theme throughout.
I enjoyed the book, but I'm a documentary geek, and this is essentially more documentary footage from the LotR films, except in text form. It's not a standard celebrity biography, although in its sort of celebration of the neurosis of the subject it reminds me a little of Walter Koenig's autobiography. As previously stated, if you're not a fan, there won't be much for you here.
Review #2: The Sweet Potato Queens' Big-Ass Cookbook (and Financial Planner), by Jill Conner Browne
The Sweet Potato Queens are, I understand, an acquired taste. For anyone who doesn't know, they're an eccentric group of women who dress up in green sequined majorette outfits and tiaras for the St. Patrick's Day parade in Jackson, MS, and they just ooze good ol' Southern attitude. These are not Belles, although some of them have the pedigree for it; they are Good Ol' Girls. Browne, who is the High Queen, has published two other books on the Queens and their adventures both in and outside of the Parade (mostly outside). The books are partly biography, partly sociological dissection of the culture of the South in general and Jackson in particular, and partly down-to-earth practical feminist philosophy, all disguised as down-home humor and mild ego-boosting for the Queens.
This one is more of the same. I'm sort of impressed that Browne hasn't run out of anecdotes yet; she's relying more on the other Queens and less on her own personal life in this book, but it's still more than half about her. In this book, she sprinkles the anecdotes with recipes (mostly serious) and "financial tips" (all firmly tongue-in-cheek). If you enjoy Southern-fried autobiographical humor, you're likely to enjoy this (the author it's easiest for me to compare Browne to is Florence King, but the differences between them are the difference between Jackson in the 1990s and Virginia in the 1940s); if you don't, while you might enjoy the humor for its own sake, the stories are unlikely to resonate. For me, with the Tombigbee red clay still on my feet, this is both a welcome reminder of home and a reminder why I chose to leave it.
Review #1: There and Back Again: An Actor's Tale, by Sean Astin and Joe Layden
Okay, if you're not a fan of either Sean Astin as an actor or the LotR movies as films, there is absolutely no point in your reading this. It isn't, strictly speaking, a full (auto)biography of Astin, as it really only covers the time period from shortly before the films were made to just after the Oscars sweep; those looking for insight into, say, The Goonies will be disappointed (although he does tell one or two anecdotes from that as an aside). The first few chapters describe his early adult career, his meeting his wife and his marriage, and the making of Rudy. After that, it's LotR from the perspective of the less-well-known of the two American actors - and a lot of it is Astin, a Hollywood brat to the core, describing how different making this film is from any other film that was ever made, from his bluntly egocentric perspective.
Have you listened to the cast commentaries on the three Extended Editions of the films? Did Sean drive you nuts on those? If so, you'll never make it through the book. It's 308 pages of that exact same tone. Astin is a bit full of himself, and fully aware of the fact (and periodically apologetic for it). My best guess is that he dictated the book to Layden, who pretty much took down what he said directly and edited it to eliminate the run-ons - his voice comes through quite clearly (so much so that I would occasionally go back and re-read a paragraph at a slower rate so as to mentally listen to it in Astin's voice). Fortunately for me, I find his peculiar combination of egomania and self-doubting neurosis rather endearing. He constantly compares himself to other actors in the film, usually unfavorably to himself, and admits to friction within the cast (in particular, him and McKellen, and to a slightly lesser extent him and Bloom) on occasion. He also points out how his relationship with Jackson changed over the course of the shooting, from close to very distant to fairly close again.
He also bitches about his weight throughout the whole book. The whole book, mind; apparently one of the reasons gaining so much weight for Sam bothered him so much is that he has had Weight Issues since his teens, well before anyone asked him to play the part, and his weight has yo-yoed a couple of times since the end of principal photography (which explains in part why some of his pick-ups are obvious and some aren't). Again, since this is one of my issues as well, I sympathize, but if you're the type who finds people griping about their weight or body shape intolerable, be warned that it's a significant chunk of the book, a recurring theme throughout.
I enjoyed the book, but I'm a documentary geek, and this is essentially more documentary footage from the LotR films, except in text form. It's not a standard celebrity biography, although in its sort of celebration of the neurosis of the subject it reminds me a little of Walter Koenig's autobiography. As previously stated, if you're not a fan, there won't be much for you here.
Review #2: The Sweet Potato Queens' Big-Ass Cookbook (and Financial Planner), by Jill Conner Browne
The Sweet Potato Queens are, I understand, an acquired taste. For anyone who doesn't know, they're an eccentric group of women who dress up in green sequined majorette outfits and tiaras for the St. Patrick's Day parade in Jackson, MS, and they just ooze good ol' Southern attitude. These are not Belles, although some of them have the pedigree for it; they are Good Ol' Girls. Browne, who is the High Queen, has published two other books on the Queens and their adventures both in and outside of the Parade (mostly outside). The books are partly biography, partly sociological dissection of the culture of the South in general and Jackson in particular, and partly down-to-earth practical feminist philosophy, all disguised as down-home humor and mild ego-boosting for the Queens.
This one is more of the same. I'm sort of impressed that Browne hasn't run out of anecdotes yet; she's relying more on the other Queens and less on her own personal life in this book, but it's still more than half about her. In this book, she sprinkles the anecdotes with recipes (mostly serious) and "financial tips" (all firmly tongue-in-cheek). If you enjoy Southern-fried autobiographical humor, you're likely to enjoy this (the author it's easiest for me to compare Browne to is Florence King, but the differences between them are the difference between Jackson in the 1990s and Virginia in the 1940s); if you don't, while you might enjoy the humor for its own sake, the stories are unlikely to resonate. For me, with the Tombigbee red clay still on my feet, this is both a welcome reminder of home and a reminder why I chose to leave it.
