It's really amazing that almost 500 pages were written about this woman's short, obscure life...This may be one of the most depressing books I've ever read. Barbara is beautiful, charismatic, and full of quirks that make her seem like she was born too soon (for example, the passing reference to how she'd dye her hair pink and go out with intricate tattoos on her face for a night out, and this was at the height of her success!).
She appears to be a 21st century party girl trapped in the conservative 1950s, where her kindred spirits turn out to be, due to the times, addicts of all types who abandon social mores, but for slightly different reasons. She has a talent for acting, cooking, interior decorating, and as we learn much later, writing-- But she spends all her energies losing herself in failed relationships, endless sex romps and alcohol binges. The personal tales told by her sister-in-law, former lovers and husbands, and various acquaintances throughout her Hollywood life paint a vivid picture of this woman and her horrifying downfall.
After 300 pages, however, I just wanted the misery to end, as it became clear she must have been living with mental illness that had never been diagnosed or treated, and the last 200 pages just spell out the repeated failures that can never have any explanation or resolution.