After falling in love with Harrison's fiction (True North, the novellas in Legends of the Fall,) I was eager to read this memoir that a friend - another Harrison lover - loaned me. Why is it, when we are taken with an author's writing, we wish to know more about his/her life and background? Sometimes it confirms our speculations, sometimes it adds new insights to the writing, and sometimes it sort of muddies our ideas of "who" this author is. This memoir did all of this for me.
In his fiction, Harrison artfully spans years and generations, sometimes within a paragraph. You do have to pay attention, but you never feel lost or plunked from time to time or place to place. In the memoir, he trawls all over the place and goes off on tangents, sometimes returning to his running narrative with an abrupt "Back to the early days." Luckily, his tangents are interesting and worth the ride. He also switches back and forth from his first person telling to the "you" of second person. I don't know if this is a technique of distancing himself or if it is meant to make his experience more universal, but I found it a little jarring, as it pulled me out of the storyline.
But those are just quibbles. This guy has lived an extraordinary life of art, has traveled and eaten and drunk widely and gloriously, and his body of work - fiction, poetry, essays, memoir, and children's fiction - is just as wide and glorious. His most famous book is probably Legends of the Fall, made into an award-winning film. Harrison writes of his years as a screenwriter, trying to adapt his books. After many years of living and supporting his family on roughly $10K/year, he's suddenly in the money (and then out of it again), and offers his version of being swallowed by the Hollywood machine and spit out the other side. Dude knows a lot of actors, directors, producers and other industry types, and seems to have become close friends with many of them, most notably, Jack Nicholson. Nicholson believed in Harrison enough to bankroll his living expenses for a year, and their friendship seems authentic, a relationship between men who like to live large (in living experience, not necessarily in buying it).
I have thought of Harrison as an extremely "male" writer, as a man's man, and this memoir confirms that. There is a long and honest section about his "Seven Obsessions" - alcohol; stripping [watching, not performing]; hunting, fishing (and dogs); private religion; France; taking solo road trips; and his immersion in nature and identification with American Natives. These preoccupations are carried throughout this book, and I've noticed his fiction abounds with these same thematic touchstones. Interestingly, he talks about hunting and fishing not as manly pursuits, and how that judgment came (from others) as our country became more urban/suburban. He offers many, many of these kinds of anthropological/sociological insights. I'd say the guy is a true observer, hence his chosen title.
But I'll stick with my sense of his über-maleness anyway. The man is exceedingly well-read, but of the dozens and dozens of authors he has read, met, admired, obsessed over, or otherwise referenced, the ones he names are nearly all male. Reminds me of an older male professor I had who worked at the public library in his town during the summers. He said women would read anyone, male or female, while men would only read other men. However, Harrison does note Native American author Linda Hogan, and mentions the novellas of Katherine Anne Porter and Isak Dinesen as influencing his decision to write his own novella, Legends of the Fall, so I'll give him points for that and bump it up to four stars.