Oh the Glory of It All

Wilsey's memoir focuses mostly on his teen years, which included a bugfuck mother who took him to Soviet Russia to meet Gorbachev and to Vatican City to meet the Pope; a distant and selfish father (who was also fabulously wealthy -- huh, wonder whether one thing had anything to do with the other? naaaaaah); and a truly wicked stepmother (and not wicked in the sense of "wicked good," either).

Frankly, I wanted to like this book a lot more than I did. Its effect on me can probably be conveyed best by illustration: I read this book just over a year ago and recently decided to post it on Paperbackswap.com, where it got snapped up quickly. Just for the hell of it, I opened it up and started to read, and found that except for a pretty riveting show more account of a horrific boot-camp-cum-boarding-school that Wilsey was forced to attend as a teen, I did not remember reading one single word; it was as though I was reading the book for the first time.

Completely forgetting almost every single word of a book that I've read just about a year ago is not exactly a ringing endorsement, for me at least. I think the problem was that Wilsey, who really did have a fascinating yet angst-ridden childhood up through his teen years, came across as a bit smug, as though he hadn't learned much from all his angst except how to spin a good yarn. That's not a bad skill, of course, but in the end, made Wilsey someone I just wouldn't find all that intrinsically interesting if he weren't leaning into my face, asking breathlessly, "Hey, wanna hear all the cool stuff that happened to me?!?! Do ya, huh?!?!" Well, no, I don't, thanks.

Oh, there was one thing I did learn from this book, and do remember: Herb Caen was apparently a miserable prick. show less

This follows the autobiographical (though I am sure rather embellished) account of the son of a famous millionaire family (the Wilseys) on the West coast of America. Life must be weird when you grew up around Danielle Steele and I would guess things could only get better from then on. Our protagonist is a wreck and can't seem to get over the separation and divorce of his parents. While it's true that their relationships becomes strained with him caught in the middle and that he is not given the same great attention is new step siblings are, this is no male Cinderella here. The bottom line is that he has thousands more opportunities than most kids get and was raised in luxury. What he did instead of try to work through his issues and show more prove to his new step mom that he wasn't a complete wastrel is to fulfill her prophesies and flunk out of every rich school his parents sent him to acquiring all kinds of drug habits and venereal diseases in the meantime. As his options wane, the schools become successively more restrictive and like prisons but it's really his own choices and volition that have brought him these consequences and I can't say I felt too sorry for him at all. What I disliked greatly about the book is that I think his point was that you were supposed to feel a little sorry for him. He makes a huge effort with his poor me routine and makes his eventual recovery seem like this magnificent feat when the truth is many more have done greater things with less. The only slight satisfaction I received is that the stepmom, who I hated even more than the main protagonist, probably received her just desserts when the book was released and slandered her. show less

I wasn't interested in the subject matter. I got through a few chapters, and realized I didn't care about any of these people. However, it was well written, and if you like stories about over-the-top dysfunctional families, than this is the book for you.

This is an example of a celebrity tell-all memoir, and of a book that should have been edited and pruned to about half the size that it is. The last quarter of the book is worth reading, the rest just rambles about a rotten childhood. At the end of the book the author states that it was all about finding his father and getting to know him, but you sure couldn't tell that by reading it. My book discussion group is reading memoirs and I wanted to read a tell-all celebrity memoir. I had this one sitting around the house and knew that in its day it caused a scandal in San Francisco society. I can see why after reading it, but mostly it is about a socialite childhood, a testosterone overloaded teen age angst period that results in clashes show more with parents and fellow students, and then getting back on track and becoming a nice person. Should have been the end of the story instead of rambling on for 400 pages. show less

This book made be feel a bit uncomfortable reading about personal and family matters that normally shouldn't be made public. But I enjoyed it anyway. The writing is good and carries the reader's interest. The story ends well with the teenager who was a royal screw-up finally becoming enough of a mature adult to write this book. Thank goodness he survived his childhood. The story makes me thankful that I wasn't born rich.

Read in November, 2007

I've had numerous people recommend this book. Sean Wilsey is the son of a San Francisco socialite, and (by my calculations) about 35 years old. The book gets off to a running start, detailing the excesses and idiosyncracies of his highly colorful parents. By the half-way point, however, the book has lost its focus. What's the subject? Sean's life? His mother? Boarding schools of the 1980s? Ultimately there's enough good material here to make it a worthwhile read, but you'll have to wade your way through all the surplus writing.

The number of stars (3) was assigned primarily to tip my hat at Wilsey's wittiness in describing his mother and some other pre-highschool moments. Otherwise, a big chunk of the book is kind of aimless. I kept wishing to understand more about what motivated him, and assumed that the hundreds of subsequent pages would justify some of the anecdotes, but they never did...