Sign Up

Get the latest ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit.

All , Coverage

All Memoir Coverage

Motherhood is a joyful gift, from a cooing baby’s first smile to a tottering toddler’s first steps, through the school-age years and into adulthood. Yet accompanying this amazing gift is perhaps the worst fear imaginable: that something could happen to your child. This worry resides in the back of every mother’s mind, simmering like a bubbling stew, punching through the joy when a child is sick, injured or suffering.

In her debut memoir, This Boy We Made: A Memoir of Motherhood, Genetics, and Facing the Unknown, Taylor Harris beautifully and heartbreakingly describes how this fear struck like a lightning bolt when her son Tophs began to experience a string of health issues that baffled medical experts. She struggled through the highs and lows of one diagnosis after another, all while coping with her own anxiety disorder and the systemic racism that, as a Black woman living in Charlottesville, Virginia, obstructed her path to accessing the best medical care for herself and her son. Tophs underwent test after test, including genetic testing that revealed the presence of a dreaded gene in their family.

Harris lays all these cards on the table, telling her story with raw candor and wit. She delves into her childhood experiences with anxiety and the subsequent assistance that helped her cope, including both counseling and medicine. These honest revelations provide a touchstone to her experiences as an adult, especially the unbelievable stress she faced while dealing with the unknown.

As a result, This Boy We Made is many books in one, combining elements of science and medicine, mental health and wellness, parenting principles and institutional racism. Fusing all these themes together in an entertaining and thoughtful way would seem an exhausting task, yet Harris does it with honesty and grace. With descriptive, poetic prose, her authentic message commands the reader’s full attention.

Taylor Harris beautifully describes how fear struck like a lightning bolt when her son began to experience baffling health issues.
Review by

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! When Cousin Curtis called last month to thank you for the lovely book you sent him, he mentioned that he was throwing a surprise party this month for his wife Wanda. Ah, yes, Wanda the Wife if Curtis is the guy who has it all, it’s probably because Wanda has been the one juggling it. Wanda’s birthday gift needs to remind her that she’s special and appreciated. What birthday gift is available 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and doesn’t require a sitter when left at home? Why, books, of course! A good story about friendship is always appreciated. Richard Ezra Probert, music teacher and wood/metal craftsman, has chronicled his friendship with Archie Raasch in Archie’s Way. Amid the tools and planks, Archie and Richard forged a friendship that spanned 15 years. The lessons Richard learned (and subsequently shares with readers), however, will last a lifetime. Makes a wonderful gift for someone who has had or has been a mentor. Wanda remembers the mid-1950s (though she’s reluctant to admit it); every child was taught to fear polio, and the summers just seemed hotter back then. She would love Pat Cunningham Devoto’s first novel, My Last Days as Roy Rogers (Warner, $20, 0446523887). Heroine Tab Rutland’s prologue foreshadows that the summer of 1954 was a messenger of great changes to come. Readers, prepare to discover a world where it does, in fact, matter from which side of the Mason-Dixon you come; proprietors are assisted by double-barrel shotguns, and creative accounting wasn’t created during the 1980s. A great novel for those who like to remember, or for those who are visiting post-World War II America for the first time.

You still laugh when Curtis recounts Wanda’s attempts to train that mutt she adopted; housebreaking remains a sore subject for poor Wanda, and a mystery to her canine. To show your support for her efforts, Why We Love Dogs: A Bark and Smile Book (Andrews McMeel, $12.95, 0836269713) makes a wonderful gift. Black-and-white photographs capture the essence of dogs; brief, large text descriptions remind humans of the joys of dog ownership (lest they forget the next time they discover that their potted plants have been mutilated!).

On the brink of a new millennium, teenagers everywhere have opinions about the world that they are inheriting. From Johannesburg to Kiev, Belfast to San Francisco, teens worldwide offer an honest portrayal of the state of things in Hear These Voices: Youth at the Edge of the Millennium (Dutton’s Children’s Books, $22.99, 0525453539). Author Anthony Allison is a photographer and youth counselor who has traveled to various points on the map, talking to at risk children about their experiences and their hopes for the future. Complete with striking black-and-white photographs, Hear These Voices presents gripping stories in a forthright and respectable manner. Perfect for educators, counselors, or anyone else who is concerned about today’s youth. A time management queen like Wanda probably feels like her reign is always in jeopardy. Life Balance, Inc. president Mary LoVerde has written Stop Screaming at the Microwave: How to Connect Your Disconnected Life (Fireside, $12, 0684853973) for seasoned veterans or novices at the keeping up with life game. LoVerde presents a step-by-step approach, taking small steps to the big finish. She identifies plans of action with regard to family, career, social life, and beyond. Readers, beware: after reading about how to keep up, you might find yourselves actually (gasp!) getting ahead!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! When Cousin Curtis called last month to thank you for the lovely book you sent him, he mentioned that he was throwing a surprise party this month for his wife Wanda. Ah, yes, Wanda the Wife if Curtis is the guy who has…

Growing up in Florida, with roots in Puerto Rico and Nicaragua, Edgar Gomez was confronted very early in his life by a culture of machismo—a glorified, aggressive masculine pride. Within such a culture, “men must marry, spawn children, and head their households.” If it weren’t for his queerness, Gomez writes, “which made many of the benefits awarded to men who uphold machismo unappealing, I would have likely accepted them without question.” With alternating notes of gut-wrenching emotion and humor, High-Risk Homosexual chronicles not only Gomez’s coming-of-age and coming out, but also his choppy navigation of a culture and family that refused to accept him.

Much of Gomez’s memoir recounts his struggles to find guides to help him growing up, gay and Latinx in a world that often violently rejected gay men. His mother and stepfather couldn’t live with the thought that Gomez was gay. His uncles tried to “reform” him by setting him up with a woman one night after a cockfight. Along the way, Gomez found solace in conversations with trans women in Nicaragua, with people in the Castro District in San Francisco and with drag queens at gay clubs in Miami and Orlando—including at Pulse, before the shootings that killed 49 people and wounded 53.

It was when he visited his college health clinic that he was dubbed a “high-risk homosexual” for sleeping with more than two sexual partners a week—a label he knew would not be applied to people who had a similar number of opposite-sex partners per week—and given pills to mitigate HIV. When he learned that taking the pills might be more dangerous than the disease, he dumped them down the toilet and vowed to “live a life that acknowledges [AIDS] as a possible outcome.” Gomez concludes that “what you do when you’re not afraid anymore is the same thing you do when you are: keep going.”

In High-Risk Homosexual, Gomez’s incandescent prose flickers with an intensity that illuminates his insecurities, his disappointments and his courage.

Edgar Gomez’s incandescent prose flickers with an intensity that illuminates his insecurities, his disappointments and his courage.

Reading Jami Attenberg is like hanging out with a friend who encourages you—through their own example—to be your messy, vibrant, glorious self. Attenberg’s voice is equal parts wise auntie and wise-ass, sincere and profane, whether on social media or in any of her seven increasingly well-received novels (most recently, All This Could Be Yours in 2019). With I Came All This Way to Meet You: Writing Myself Home, Attenberg turns to memoir to explore the hustle and chutzpah with which she has built a successful career as a working writer.

Writing isn’t magic, but it can do magical things. The preface to I Came All This Way to Meet You reminds us of this in an inspiring manifesto about the power of committing to the work of writing. Creating a life of travel and work, rather than a life more domestic and rooted, requires creativity and grit, especially as we age, and especially for women. For Attenberg, in lieu of traditional stability, writing became the portable home she always returned to.

Attenberg’s travels around the country to promote her books form the backbone of this book, which is written as a series of short, interlinked essays that touch on themes of work, solitude, friendship, heartbreak, risk and itinerancy. A stunning scene in a chapel constructed out of bones in Portugal exemplifies the beauty and peril of the writer’s life. Communing with the dead offers the writer stories and companionship; connecting with the living can be far more difficult.

Attenberg’s memoir ends in New Orleans, that magical city of eccentricity and art, where she has only recently created a home for herself and her dog, Sid. The “ultimate privilege,” Attenberg finds, is to have a house she can open up to visiting friends, returning the favor from her own periods of wandering. Attenberg extends this hospitality to her readers, too, as she invites us into this funny, perceptive portrait of a life well-lived.

I Came All This Way to Meet You’ makes for a relaxing audiobook. Read our review.

Jami Attenberg’s voice is equal parts wise auntie and wise-ass as she explores the hustle and chutzpah with which she built her successful writing career.
Review by

In Clara, the Early Years Margo Kaufman, a columnist and panelist on NPR’s news-quiz show Wait Wait . . . Don’t Tell Me, does tell the often hilarious story of her pug Clara and the havoc she wreaks with her owner’s life. A pug owner since the age of 19, Kaufman knew that the small black pug named Clara was different from her previous dogs. She writes that before Clara, I was not a Pet Parent. The pugs were dogs. Cute dogs, willful dogs, lovable to be sure, but I was a Human. I was in charge. Then along came Clara, and all bets were off. Kaufman’s legion and riotous tales illustrate the extent of Clara’s prima donna attitude. Clara shops in Saks, where the shoe salesmen fuss over her and she can visit the pet boutique, attends the Pug Luck Garden Party to benefit homeless pugs, gets a write-up in the New York Post, and upstages her owner on a book tour by wearing a baseball cap adorned with the name of the book to signings and interviews. As Kaufman writes, The pug and I did share a blind spot. For all our combined knowledge, there was one fact neither of us truly understood. Clara was not a person. This reality makes no difference until Kaufman and her husband decide to adopt a human baby who threatens to push Clara out of the spotlight as the couple’s and the book’s attention turns to Russia and Nicholas, their new son.

Pug lessons are sometimes poignant. As Kaufman writes of her pugs when she and her husband finally receive their baby, I had spent 20 years caring for small creatures, nurturing them, attending to their every need. And in exchange, they prepared me well. Kaufman’s narration remains humorous but also tackles the larger issues involved in creating a family and demonstrating love as she describes life with the dogs she adores as well as her husband and son. Fortunately, Clara and Nicholas demonstrate their own bond. As their proud mother writes of her baby, Among his first words,"Clara."

In Clara, the Early Years Margo Kaufman, a columnist and panelist on NPR's news-quiz show Wait Wait . . . Don't Tell Me, does tell the often hilarious story of her pug Clara and the havoc she wreaks with her owner's life. A pug owner…

Pulitzer Prize winner and New Yorker staff writer Kathryn Schulz’s first memoir, Lost & Found, is an eloquent meditation inspired by the end of her father’s life and the beginning of the romance that led to her marriage. This probing, multifaceted exploration of two universal phenomena—grief and love—is both a revealing account of defining moments in Schulz’s life and an eloquent map of the pathways connecting them to our shared human experience.

In the first section of the book, Schulz’s reflections on the profound grief provoked by the peaceful passing of the man she describes as “part Socrates, part Tevye,” at the end of a decade of slowly failing health, illuminate the “essential, avaricious nature of loss.” She examines the complexity and uniqueness of each person’s bereavement, giving the lie to clichés like “moving on” and “closure” that are offered to comfort those in mourning. “Everything felt fragile, everything felt vulnerable,” she observes; “the idea of loss pressed in all around me, like a hidden order to existence that emerged only in the presence of grief.”

The poignancy of these reminiscences is more than balanced by the exuberant account of Schulz’s love affair with C. in the second section of the book. Though C. is a fellow writer, she is also a woman whose cultural roots—as a devout Lutheran from Maryland’s Eastern Shore—are so different from Schulz’s—a nonpracticing Jew from Cleveland—that Mars and Venus can barely encompass them. The affectionately candid story of their instantaneous attachment and deepening relationship allows Schulz to probe some of the ineffable mysteries of human attraction and ponder the wild improbability that two people ever find each other and fall in love.

Concluding her memoir with a section entitled “And,” Schulz skillfully melds the two profound subjects that animate her story, attempting to reconcile herself to an undeniable reality at the heart of life’s beauty and pain: our limitless capacity to love, undiminished by the inescapable knowledge that one day every one of us will inevitably lose all we cherish. “Of every kind of ‘and’ that we experience,” she writes, “I find this one the most acute—the awareness that our love, in all its many forms, is bound inseparably to our grief.”

Discoursing knowledgeably and often with good humor on subjects that include etymology, poetry, natural history, psychology and more, Schulz displays a capacious intelligence matched only by her boundless curiosity and insight. Lost & Found is a beautiful, life-affirming book that passionately embraces some of the deepest questions of human existence in the fullness of their sorrow and joy.

Read more: Author Kathryn Schulz voices the audiobook for ‘Lost & Found.’

Lost & Found is a beautiful, life-affirming memoir about love and grief that passionately embraces some of the deepest questions of human existence.
Review by

You can put fame to all sorts of uses. In Family Outing, Chastity Bono, daughter of actress and singer Cher and the late politician Sonny Bono, puts it to one of the best: encouraging social change. Family Outing is Bono’s coming out story and much more. It’s also the story of how Cher came to terms with her daughter’s homosexuality. While Cher’s and her daughter’s notoriety will undoubtedly attract readers, possibly even readers not directly confronting homosexuality, notoriety has a drawback: many people curious about the personal lives of movie actors and academy award recipients can’t identify with them. Bono and her co-author, Billie Fitzpatrick, anticipated this problem and solved it by interviewing other gay men and lesbians and their parents and including the coming out stories of these less notorious but more accessible people in the book. With the wealth of perspectives Family Outing provides, any gay or lesbian person struggling to come out, and any parent coping with the reality of a gay child, will find a story with which to identify.

Bono expands the definition of coming out to mean a series of adjustments that parents of lesbians and gays, as well as lesbians and gays themselves, have to go through. The organization of Family Outing reflects this expansion. The book is divided into two sections called Coming out Ourselves and Parents Come out Too. Both sections are organized around themes, such as unearthing homophobia and learning to accept, that describe what Bono and Fitzpatrick call the universal stages of coming out. While the organization makes it difficult to trace any one family’s coming out process from beginning to end, it does allow readers to quickly locate experiences directly relevant to their own.

One of the most interesting and valuable stories in the book is Bono’s description of how, in response to her unauthorized outing by the tabloid The Star in 1990, she let her own homophobia drive her back into the closet. I was afraid, she explains that I would hurt my budding music career if I were honest. Another revealing story is Cher’s explanation of why, even though she had many homosexual friends, when she first suspected Chastity was a lesbian, she couldn’t get past the negative stereotypes. It’s a different thing that happens with your child, Cher says, it’s not the same. Chastity Bono and Cher are scheduled to appear together on Oprah, Dateline NBC, and Good Morning America. While their appearances will undoubtedly promote book sales, the true value of the publicity lies elsewhere. By telling their stories, the two women are demystifying the coming-out process and providing a role model for families who want to focus on the positive qualities of a gay child rather than on the stereotypical misconceptions that associate homosexuality with failure and defeat.

Connie Miller lives and writes in Seattle.

You can put fame to all sorts of uses. In Family Outing, Chastity Bono, daughter of actress and singer Cher and the late politician Sonny Bono, puts it to one of the best: encouraging social change. Family Outing is Bono's coming out story and much…

Review by

For Tarana Burke, the explosion of the #MeToo movement in 2017 was a unique emotional journey. As the founder of the movement, she reacted to the use of the hashtag on social media—initially without her awareness or involvement—with alarm, dismay and fear. But she soon moved beyond her protective instinct to a place of gratitude and openness, as she recognized how people were benefiting from the phrase’s transformative power. 

Burke narrates these moments in her memoir, Unbound (7 hours), then goes back in time to her childhood experience of sexual assault and her journey to liberation and activism. Her steady, grounded voice commands the listener’s attention and moves us through time, through emotions, through visceral experiences and psychological breakthroughs. The pain, confusion, vulnerability and, ultimately, power in her story are rendered all the more potent and compelling by her confident voice, distinguishing Burke as a woman who has found her strength and her path to help others heal. This is a listening experience not to be missed.

Read our starred review of the print edition of ‘Unbound.’

In the audio edition of Unbound, the pain, confusion, vulnerability and power in Tarana Burke’s story are rendered all the more potent by her confident voice.
Review by

The wait is killing us. Basketball fans want to know in some cases need to know if Michael Jordan has taken his final shot as a player in the National Basketball Association. The future of Jordan and the Chicago Bulls was a major subplot to the 1997-98 NBA season. While the Bulls went about the business of winning another world championship, everyone was dogging the various members of the organization along the way to find out if this was indeed a last hurrah. Jordan, now 35 but still capable of pulling us out of our seats at any moment after another spectacular play, said he’d considered coming back for another season if the rest of his championship cast came back.

Once the Bulls defeated the Utah Jazz in the finals for their sixth championship in eight years in June, coach Phil Jackson wasted little time in cleaning out his office and heading to Montana. Scottie Pippin, one of the greatest players in league history in his own right, sounded like a man who was ready to claim free-agent riches from another team when he spoke right after the Finals. The 1998 season sure felt like the last ride for one of the great teams in basketball history.

Then the lockout came in July. Basketball players and owners couldn’t figure out how to divide the millions upon millions of dollars coming into their collective bank accounts. Players transactions were put indefinitely on hold. As summer came to an end, the league’s record of never missing a regular- season game due to a labor dispute appeared in serious jeopardy. But the casual fan didn’t care much about that. That fan was more interested in knowing if Jordan would ever play again, and that hadn’t been resolved as of late September.

So, we wait.

At least Jordan has given us something to do while waiting for some sort of resolution. He has produced a book called For the Love of the Game, which reviews his pro career to date. It was produced in conjunction with the same people who worked on Rare Air with him, and it features a similar if much larger format.

Jordan and his staff went through almost 10,000 photographs to pick out the 200 used in the book. A particularly striking one is a double-page shot of Jordan’s personal trophy room at home. The shelves are stacked up with awards, as you’d expect, but the floor contains the biggest surprise. It’s made up of the wood from the middle of the basketball court at the new demolished Chicago Stadium, complete with the angry bull’s face in the center circle.

The photos are complimented by more than 20,000 words by Jordan himself. It’s an effort to put his career into a bit more perspective than we usual get from him. The daily sound bites in the media from Jordan usually center on his next game or his last game, so it’s nice to read him expounding on some different subjects.

No one could blame Jordan if he decided to quit basketball right now. He is universally acclaimed as the greatest all-around player in the history of his sport, and he’s won championships in his last six full seasons. Jordan’s final moment in the 1998 playoffs might have been his best. He stole a pass from Utah’s Karl Malone and then hit a jump shot in the final seconds to give his team a victory and a title in Game Six all while realizing that an injury to Pippin would make victory for his team in Game Seven an almost impossible task. No one could have staged a better exit line.

But then again, another championship will be an even greater challenge this coming season, and as For the Love of the Game proves Jordan always has liked a challenge. His fans, then, will look through this book, smile at the memories of his accomplishments, and wait to see if he will add to them in the future.

Budd Bailey is a writer in Buffalo, New York.

The wait is killing us. Basketball fans want to know in some cases need to know if Michael Jordan has taken his final shot as a player in the National Basketball Association. The future of Jordan and the Chicago Bulls was a major subplot to…

Review by

It’s hard to believe that author Dawn Turner isn’t the narrator of her memoir, Three Girls From Bronzeville: A Uniquely American Memoir of Race, Fate, and Sisterhood (12 hours); the woman reading the audiobook sounds so honest as she recalls growing up in the historic Bronzeville section of Chicago that surely she must be Turner. But award-winning voice actor Janina Edwards’ confident storytelling commands attention and enhances the tale. Her wise, knowing tone allows the listener to fall under the spell of the story, envisioning each episode and trusting that the details will weave together meaningfully.

The listener is transported into the past to experience the closeness of Turner’s family, the excitement of growing up together and the emotional toll of their disparate fates. With a range of tones and speech patterns, Edwards acts out the truths of Turner’s life, from the memorable words of both child and adult personalities to the clear, precise diction of a person raised with strict insistence upon proper speech. This remarkable audio production intrigues and entertains.

Listeners will fall under the spell of Dawn Turner’s memoir through Janina Edwards’ confident storytelling and wise, knowing tone.
Review by

Gayle Jessup White’s multilayered autobiography, Reclamation: Sally Hemings, Thomas Jefferson, and a Descendant’s Search for Her Family’s Lasting Legacy, is divided into three parts. The first, most directly autobiographical part of Reclamation offers a fascinating look at Black life in a prosperous neighborhood in Washington, D.C., during the 1960s and ’70s—a neighborhood that has since been washed away in a wave of gentrification. White describes growing up in this neighborhood as the baby of her family. Her reserved father and acquisitive mother did not get along, but they protected and pampered White so that she did not experience “what racism felt like” until she was 13.

Part two is the heart of the book, documenting White’s scrupulous search to prove her family’s claim that they are Black descendants of Thomas Jefferson. White, who is now in her mid-60s, first heard that claim as a young teenager, from her much older sister. Her sister had heard it from Aunt Peachie, an elderly relative who died before White was born. Although she was fascinated almost to the point of obsession, White didn’t begin her genealogical search until much later.

The long process White went through to establish her lineage will be especially interesting to amateur genealogists. But it is also of great interest in general because of the subtle and not-so-subtle obstacles she faced as a Black person claiming to be a descendant of the author of the Declaration of Independence. In one chapter, White describes developing a relationship with a white Jefferson descendant, a poet and writer, only to end up feeling like her personal narrative had been appropriated and diminished by her would-be collaborator.

During her research, White developed a relationship with historians at Monticello, Jefferson’s home, which is the focus of the third part of the book. For a number of powerful reasons, White, who trained as a journalist and has worked as a TV reporter throughout the South, decided Monticello was where she wanted to work at the end of her career. Getting hired there required superhuman persistence, and after becoming Monticello’s first Community Engagement Officer, she was one of only a few Black employees and frequently faced criticism from her white co-workers. Overcoming the institution’s doubts about her, her work eventually transformed Monticello into a place committed to updating the ways it portrays the lives of people who were enslaved there.

As a Black person working to prove her family’s claim that they are descendants of Thomas Jefferson, Gayle Jessup White faced plenty of obstacles.
Review by

Jordan Salama, a 2019 Princeton University graduate and journalist, comes by his travel instincts honestly. His great-great-great-grandfather led a thousand camels along the Silk Road to trade goods in Iraq, Syria and Iran; his great-grandfather, a Syrian Jewish immigrant to Argentina, rode on horseback through the Andes as an itinerant salesman; and his father became a physician in Buenos Aires before migrating to New York City. Their stories, passed down through generations of a family that spoke “a spellbinding mix of English, Spanish, and Arabic,” have inspired Salama’s own explorations, including the one he describes in Every Day the River Changes: Four Weeks Down the Magdalena.

The Magdalena River, which is over 900 miles long and Colombia’s principal waterway, links the country’s diverse interior to the Caribbean Sea. It has long been a vital transportation mainstay, used and abused by the Colombian government, global industry, paramilitaries, guerillas, migrants, fishers and environmentalists alike. In 2016 the government signed a wobbly peace accord with the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia and other guerilla armies, but the river’s future viability remains as unclear as its sediment-stacked waters. Salama is intent on learning everything he can, while he still can, about this endangered, legendary river that threads its way through Colombia’s history and people.

The Magdalena is central to many tales, both in fiction, as in the novels of Colombia’s revered author Gabriel García Márquez, and in the true stories Salama hears as he follows the river’s course from beginning to end. The people he meets and travels with share their experiences—from a jeweler selling silver filigree flowers, to a teacher delivering books to rural children via his two donkeys (Alfa and Beto), to the ill-fated anthropologist and activist Luis Manuel Salamanca, to Alvarito, the village kite master. They are, Salama writes, “ordinary people working tirelessly to preserve the natural/cultural treasures of a country much maligned by war,” and their fates are interwoven with the Magdalena.

Then there are the runaway hippopotamuses. Imported from Africa for the private zoo of notorious drug king Pablo Escobar, the hippos fled after Escobar’s murder in 1993 and now make the Magdalena and its tributaries their home. They have multiplied and spread over the past three decades, and they will pursue and attack any intruders. As Salama ventures deeper into Colombia, he can’t wait to find them.

By the time Salama ends his riveting journey, scrambling across the treacherous rocks where the Magdalena River meets the Caribbean Sea, he has already enticed readers to follow him on his next one.

Jordan Salama is intent on learning everything he can about the legendary Magdalena River, which threads its way through Colombia’s history and people.
Review by

A Carnival of Snackery (17 hours) collects highlights from David Sedaris’ diaries from 2003–2020, read by the author and British-born actor Tracey Ullman. Sedaris’ diary entries reflect much of what we love most about his short stories and essays—observations about the unusual people he meets on his travels, anecdotes about awkward situations and tales about his family—all filtered through the lens of the last two decades, with backdrops that range from Brexit to protests against the Iraq War and George Floyd’s murder.

In the introduction, Sedaris explains that Ullman will narrate the portions of the audiobook set in England, to capture the local charm in a way he cannot. She does a wonderful job portraying Sedaris and the broad range of accents he encounters while across the pond, from a haughty horseback rider to a teenage troublemaker. Sedaris hardly needs help: He doesn’t perform as many voices in his sections, but his emphasis and timing get right to the humor at the heart of his diaries.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our starred review of the print edition of ‘A Carnival of Snackery.’

David Sedaris and actor Tracey Ullman get right to the humor at the heart of his diaries in the audio edition of A Carnival of Snackery.

Sign Up

Stay on top of new releases: Sign up for our newsletter to receive reading recommendations in your favorite genres.

Recent Reviews

Author Interviews

Recent Features