The Last Book I Read

I'm guessing that it must be awfully difficult for a comedian whose work is recognized as being on the intellectual side to craft a really effective autobiography. There seems to be a tendency to want to create something deeper, more important than a collection of anecdotes about the road, celebrity encounters, and the development of fondly remembered bits and career-defining material. That'd be great if they could pull off such a feat, since I suspect that guys like George Carlin do have a unique perspective on serious subjects, including comedy and the nature of our popular culture. But they tend to fall short. For example, Mort Sahl's Heartland, while offering a fascinating insight into its author's worldview, comes across as strident and often bitter. Robert Klein's The Amorous Busboy of Decatur Avenue is a bit of a bore, as he depicts himself as a late twentieth century, overly theatrical counterpart to Fielding's Tom Jones. What fails to come across, at least for this reader, is some hint of the fact that these men are entertainers. George Carlin's Last Words, unfortunately, is pretty much in this vein, though it's hard to blame Carlin, given the fact he died before work on the book was completed. Still, his collaborator Tony Hendra some years ago wrote a brilliant survey of the kind of comedy Carlin (and for that matter, Sahl and Klein, too) represented called Going Too Far, so it's hard to believe he's entirely responsible for the failure of the project to entirely come together. The first sections of the book, covering Carlin's childhood are actually quite good, evoking a time and place that long-time fans will recognize as central to the material that marked Carlin's emergence as one of the handful of stand-ups who transformed the art in the 1970s (Richard Pryor and Steve Martin being the other two). But his chronicle of those glory years when he commanded big paychecks and performed long-form routines before crowds in the thousands reads like a transcript of some True Hollywood Story tabloid TV show. I don't mean to belittle the travails (drugs, alcohol, health and family issues) that obviously plagued Carlin during that period, but their recounting here lacks the kind of cynically righteous verve that marked the material he performed on stage, and so it kind of feels like a cheat. Luckily, its exactly that tone that enlivens the last couple of chapters, where he lays out his philosophy in no uncertain terms, and while it's often dark and even frightening in its implications, it's pure Carlin as we've come to know him from his stage persona. I guess I'm arguing that books like this should be continuations of the subject's act, and that's probably unfair-- to deny them the opportunity to discuss other aspects of their lives. But since a big part of their popular appeal (and influence) is built on creating an image of integrity and insight, that they have something more meaningful to contribute than run-of-the-mill mother-in-law jokes, it's a bit of a let down when their written work doesn't quite match that standard-- or, in this case sustain it throughout the book. So, consider this a qualified recommendation, in that the good stuff at least balances out the more mundane parts.