Autobiography of Mark Twain, Volume 1

"Whenever a man preferred being fed by any other man to starving in independence he ought to be shot."

Mark Twain dictated his autobiography with the stated intention that it wouldn't be published for 100 years after his death. Accordingly, the first volume (of three) of the first complete edition just came out about a year ago.

Not a chronological autobiography, but more a free association of (mostly humorous) stories, it still somehow manages to add up to an integrated picture of the man. Early on he relates the death of his middle daughter Suzie at the age of 25, and from that point on quotes from a biography of him she had written about ten years earlier. This provides some structure, as he quotes passages and then elaborates on them show more or tells a story they remind him of, but it also provides a sort of emotional line, regularly reminding us of Twain's family life besides his professional life.

It does jump around a lot, ranging from recollections of his boyhood, to his early attempts at making a living, to becoming a successful writer, to his middle age as a family man, to his old age. The effect is a picture of a whole life, even if it is only in snapshots.

And of course, Twain is often very funny, sometimes poignant, and uses language beautifully. Definitely worth reading. And Grover Gardner's narration of this audio edition is quite good (though his reading of Sinclair Lewis's Dodsworth is even better)---straightforward to let the material speak for itself, rather than over-the-top comedic as most readers tend to interpret Twain. Four and a half stars. show less

While Twain didn't find gold when trying his hand at prospecting, readers can easily find gold in this autobiography Twain dictated toward the end of his life, secure in the knowledge that he could state his true opinions of the people he had come across (as he, and they, would be dead by the time any of this was published). As others have noted, this isn't so much a linear autobiography as it is a collection of random reminiscences and memories. But as this is only volume one of three, I assume Twain will, by the end, have covered much of his life. I first tried reading this as if it was a true autobiography but found that it quickly wore me out. But it's delightful when read in snippets, one or two entries at a time, as there are show more marvelous insights to be found, as well as humor, pathos, and virtually every other human emotion other, perhaps, than anger and cruelty. Highly recommended, especially if you like Twain's other writings. show less

Not so much an autobiography as a collection of miscellaneous essays, reflections, and stale grudges dredged up for their comedic effect - this book is all over the place. I was nearly half way through before there was even one essay about Twain's childhood or family. Most of the content was character sketches of other people, be they politicians, old landlords, or editors. These writings are all amusing or interesting, but don't provide much insight into the man himself. Clearly this was the intention, as the author often mentions his disinterest in creating a comprehensive overview of his life. Instead, he uses the specter of an autobiography to sound off about whatever interests him or comes to mind.

For myself, I don't really care show more what Twain intended. He never finished his autobiography, so anything posthumously published is essentially a construct. I felt misled by this book's title and a bit annoyed even as I was entertained by the great man's random memories. This should really be called "collected writings" or something similar. show less

Brilliant! Twain had good reason to request that the publication of his autobiography wait until 100 years after his death. He speaks with great candor about many of his contemporaries and in doing so, gives us a wonderfully unvarnished view of many historical figures. This is a must read. Also, due to the heft of this massive tome, it might remain useful to the reader as a weapon for home defense.

Mark Twain had a mouth on him, no doubt about it – and that is why it is still so much fun to read the man’s writing today. But even Twain knew that the world was not quite ready for the unexpurgated version of his thoughts that comprises the first two volumes (a third volume is yet to follow) of his autobiography, so he stipulated that the complete biography was not to be published until 100 years after his death – which occurred on April 21, 1910. For those of us lucky enough to be around for the unveiling of the uncensored version of the manuscripts, it was well worth the wait.

Close to half of the material contained in the autobiography has never been published before, and readers have the Mark Twain Project (of the University show more of California, Berkeley) to thank for making it available now. The previously published material has been published several times in the past, but always in an abridged form guaranteed not to offend. But even the unrestricted version of Twain’s manuscripts is not what readers have come to expect from an autobiography.

Rather than tell the story of his life in chronological order, Twain decided early on that he would dictate his thoughts to a stenographer as they occurred to him – regardless of where they might fit into the story of his life. And, because he wanted them published in the order that he dictated them, reading the two books is more like having a conversation with Twain than anything else. It is as if the man were sitting across the room and telling random stories from his life as they cross his mind.

And what stories they are! They range all the way from his thoughts on rather trivial newspaper stories that may have caught his eye over breakfast to wonderful remembrances of things that happened in the first decade or two of his life. We learn of the villains in Twain’s world, some of whom personally crippled him with huge financial losses and scams, and others who were simply the villains of their times, men like Jay Gould and Belgium’s King Leopold II. We learn much about his brother, a man full of dreams but without the ability to make any of them come true. And most touchingly, Twain shares his deep love for Susy, the daughter who was snatched from the family so suddenly, by quoting liberally from the biography she wrote about her father. (My own favorite sections of the book deal with Twain’s relationship with the U.S. Grant family and publication of the former president’s memoirs.)

Twain, though, never passes up the opportunity for a little personal vengeance. As he often reminds his readers, he is speaking from the grave now, so what does he care about offending anyone? He just wants to set the record straight – at least as he sees that record. So rather unfortunately, the reader will have to wade through what seems like countless pages about the copyright laws of the day and biting commentary about an Italian landlady who drove Twain nuts for several months.

Intimidating as the two books may first appear, the author’s charm and rascality make reading them a pleasure that Twain fans will not want to miss. show less

I love Mark Twain's stories. He has a very engaging way of writing. His autobiography took a bit to get through however. He jumped around from topic to topic (he'd start talking about one thing, mention it reminded him of something else and go off on a tangent). That took some getting used to.

Seeing the correspondence he had with his contemporaries was really interesting. When he started talking about his daughter Suzy and the biography she had written about him when she was younger, you could feel the love and adoration he had for her.

So, Mark Twain's autobiography, volume 1. Yes, the book is 736 pages, but Twain's story itself is only 405. The rest is made up of a very thorough introduction, explanatory notes, appendices, references, and the index.

I found the introduction quite interesting, as the editor set out the history of Twain's attempts at writing his autobiography over the years and the method he finally settled on. They also delved into what had been done with the manuscript after his death. His previous biographers, for example, didn't stand by the order to keep it all unpublished for 100 years. They used quite a bit of it in their own writings on Twain and didn't necessarily follow Twain's wishes in how they edited what they used. Harriet Elinor Smith and show more her colleagues have set that right, I believe.

That's who I want to thank, to begin with. The editors took on a massive undertaking by trying to bring this tome together, organizing the manuscript, doing the detective work to discover in what order things were originally written, and what changes might have been made by those shifty biographers of the past. Kudos to them.

Kudos, too, of course, to Mr. Clemens for his talented storytelling and the method he finally settled on. After years of struggling to write his story, and often refusing to, he discovered that dictating his thoughts to a competent and enthusiastic audience—in this case, the stenographer Josephine S. Hobby—was what fit the bill. Also, and this is the really cool part in my mind, he chose to change up the structure. Instead of writing a strictly linear piece, Clemens' story jumps around in time, paying more attention to how events connected in the author's brain, instead of how they connected chronologically. I think it's brilliant.

As are the stories themselves. Clemens was a master storyteller, raconteur, and, as his mother described him, and embroiderer. The tales of his life bear that mark. I found myself smiling a lot, and laughing, while reading this. Tearing up, occasionally, too. He talks about his own life and that of his family, but he also talks about the goings on of the day, sharing his thoughts about U.S. Grant (a big fan), Teddy Roosevelt ("one of the most impulsive man in history"), and Helen Keller ("She is fellow to Caesar, Alexander, Napoleon, Homer, Shakespeare, and the rest of the immortals."), among others.

One of my favor parts of the Twain saga was the insertion of pieces of the biography his daughter Susy had written about him when she was 13. He insisted that the excerpts be inserted as they were, with no corrections made to the spelling or grammar, although he would comment sometimes on a unique spelling or turn of phrase. His love for and pride in his daughter is so apparent, it's all the more tragic to read of her death from meningitis at the age of 24.

And, of course, Clemens talks about himself, such as his attendance at an author's reading at Vassar College. He was one of nine authors and the only one that kept his piece to 10 minutes. He ended up sneaking out the back when "by 5:30 a third of the house was asleep; another third were dying; and the rest were dead."

Clemens sarcastic wit, control of language, and warm heart shined throughout this volume, and I was sad when it ended, even if it did wound me. I can't wait for the next one. show less