It’s a captivating book. It’s not one to read on the bus or train for reasons that become apparent right away. The ceaseless flood of cussin’ and four-letter words tumbling over each other will be the envy of any kid at risk of reprimand for bad language. Far more important and memorable is Feh’s humor and audacity inadequately masking his sensitivity, making for an outstanding memoir.
Feh is a page-turner no less than a high seas adventure can be. What will he say next? Can he punish himself further? And what does the title mean? It is a Yiddish word: low self-image and disgust are contenders. It’s better you come up with your own definition.
Alongside the self-beatings, he confronts with grief the death of his friend, actor Philip Seymour Hoffman. Even the failed promise of a likely TV series together means less than the personal loss.
From the audacious opening, the cynical record of a destructive childhood, recurring depression, and disappointment with California after migrating from New York, the reader’s shock and sympathy never wavers.
Above all, Auslander is the epitome of a loving family man. The finale is almost weepy. And it is here lies the salvation, the merit of the story.
