FPDL | Off-Putting | My sister and I listened to Marx in the 80s, and a few years ago I stumbled across a tweet of his that was going viral, which reminded me that he existed and made me smile. I certainly wasn't interested in this book enough to pay for it, but a library read seemed worthwhile. It wasn't. First, did Simon and Schuster actually edit this book?! Sentences that change tense halfway through, bits like "seeing faces with tears running down their faces", the lack of flow, the jumping around in chronology and subject, the errors... this reads like a self-published book! The bigger issue, though, is that I don't like the person Marx presents himself as. He's so arrogant here, and it's all just a repetitive list, name-dropping all the famous people he worked with. It's the same story every time, Marx was a fan of somebody, so his belief that he would work with them magically manifested them into his life, he lists what they did and how successful it was, then moves on to the next. The only deviations are when he tells an insulting story about somebody who is now deceased and can't respond, or a few times in which he's a jerk to someone, they're a jerk to him, and he presents it as his behavior being totally acceptable and theirs being beyond the pale. A friend was cold to him once, so he cut off contact for five years, said they could go fuck themselves when they reached out, cold-shouldered them when they came to say hi, and waited for them to apologize to him?! Someone said something he didn't like in a seminar, so he publicly ripped them in an unrelated interview, they made a small joke at his expense when asked about it, and he's still holding a grudge years later and crowing about how that artist won't have the success he's had?!
If he didn't want to write about anything personal, why did he agree to publish a memoir? This is so shallow, it was hard not to just skim the last 25%. Second star only because I did finish the thing.