Customer Reviews

A Little More About Me

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(6)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(11)

 

 

I anxiously awaited the arrival of this book from the libray. I LOVED "Cowboys...." it had really touched me inside; I felt like the author really understood the types of experiences I have had in my life as an outdoors woman, and the men I have known. "A little bit about me" was a huge disapointment. It felt to me more like writing as therapy, or journal entries, than stories that I could connect to as I have in the past. She does mention doing some therapy, ( which is always a good thing) but I found something lacking in this book, perhaps a sense of something deeper than " I did this, I have done that..." Only in two places did I find the "Pam houston " I was looking for: There is a fabulaous paragrash in the introduction where she talks about NOT climbing the Grand Teton, and the dog stories. The dog stories are absolutely marvelous; it's worh checking this book out just for those bits.

I am ashamed to say I had forgotten about Pam Houston.

I read "Cowboys Are My Weakness" back in '92 when it came out and then let this author fall out of my library, until recently when I stumbled (actually tripped in the bookstore) and into the table with this book on it.

What more can I say than... This book is wonderful! The prose is simple and elegant, the sentiment is raw and truthful, the stories are humorous and strike a chord in the soul.

Ms. Houston writes of her travels, revelations, dogs, men, landscape, body image in such a way that I was not able to put the book down. In fact, I found myself stealing into my office for any scrap of time to finish a chapter, a sentence, the entire book in a day.

My recommendation for "A Little More About Me": read it, own it, buy it for a friend!

I have read, re-read, and often recommended Pam Houston's book "Cowboys Are My Weakness," so it was with a shudder of anticipation that I found her newest book "A Little More About Me" on the table at my local bookseller. Sure, this book is about her (for those other reviewers who missed the point...). But the book manages to be about her, and also about me, and countless other women as well. Through the course of rich and vivid descriptions of her adventures - essays that so often read like long poems - I realized that (once again) Houston is holding a mirror up to womankind and challenging us to recognize the quirks and patterns that have driven us throughout history. Houston's attraction to danger, her need to please men who prove to be inconsequential, her celebration of female friendship and fascination with the inner workings of the opposite sex, and her desire to detail every meal cooked and eaten at trail's end all feel familiar to me. I loved "In the Company of Fishermen". It made me wish I could be there, fishing alongside them. I read it out loud to my three-year-old son, who remained mesmerized to the end. I was glad to be able to give him a great story about men who remain friends, about a brave woman, and to show him that fishermen can be poets, and the reverse as well. Outside her adventures, Houston's writing is sprinkled with references to so many of my favorite things - movies, books, songs, and foods - that it makes it hard NOT to take her writing personally. To the reader looking for a simple adventure tale: Houston's self-disclosure will make you uncomfortable, guaranteed. Even though I'm interested in what makes Houston tick, I found myself a little unnerved by her descriptions of her childhood. This took the form of the sort of discomfort one feels when a co-worker tells you more than you need to know about their home life. I was stunned her find her chapter detailing her weight and body issues, and yet by the end I was as delighted as I would be if Self magazine called me up tomorrow to tell me I had the ideal body type for the new millennium and asked me to share my diet and exercise secrets (unlikely). So much of this rang true and hit home like a very pointed arrow. Parts of this book made me sorry for Houston and the things she has experienced, but I never felt pity, just the sort of sorry understanding one has for a friend who pulled the short straw and still persevered. At the end I wished I could meet Houston, spend some time with her, maybe drink a little tequila and invite her to help me climb Shasta on my 40th birthday. But realistically, I'm looking for a simple, smooth, safe climb with a great view - no search parties involved. I look forward to more of Houston's writing and will seek out her essays in periodicals as well. She manages to take me away from my own life (differenly colored than hers, and not nearly as dangerous) and still, somehow, bring me home. This was a colorful, introspective (okay, say it - self-indulgent) read that I really enjoyed. However, I suspect it is the sort of book an author only gets away with once.

When this book was published in 1999, Pam Houston visited Tempe, Arizona and read "Dante and Sally" and "Home is Where Your Dogs Are" from this twenty-four essay collection. It is easy for me now to hear her voice in all of these essays. Written over a period of five years (p. 23), they are full of "happy-to-be-alive adrenaline" (p. 19), and "artistic, spiritual, emotional, even physical edges" (p. 25). Each essay is a testament that life offers us opportunities "to be our truest selves, to lead an independent lifestyle, not tied (or chained) to the conventions of a confining city life" (p. 35). Houston has the ability to make "words dance" (p. 22).

The unfavorable reader reviews below are a mystery to me. While some of Houston's essays soar higher than others, they all contain their own unique moments of truth, whether her subject is flyfishing at 2 a.m. with "a bunch of male poets" (p. 103), or pitching a tent "on a patch of red in front of a big blond piece of sandstone under a blue Utah sky" (p. 129). In "A Man Who'll Freeze His Eyelashes for You," Houston observes "the essence of the desert is silence, meditation, empty spaces, and peace" (p. 126). In another favorite, "Redefining Success," we find Houston discussing success with poet Jane Hirshfield, while walking along Muir Beach. She writes: "But now I am coming to the understanding that success has less to do with the accumulation of things and more to do with the accumulation of moments, and that creating a successful life might be as simple as determining which moments are the most valuable, and seeing how many of those I can string together in a line" (p. 166). In this collection, Houston offers us an accumulation of such valuable moments which, upon reaching the book's final essay, will leave you hoping for a little more about her. I encourage you to read this book, then decide for yourself.

G. Merritt

As a journalist and as an author of fiction, Pam Houston has never been afraid to be an explorer. This collection of essays covers topics as far-flung as the topography and culture of Bhutan and as close to home as American women's obsession with weight. In every case, Houston's writing exemplifies the virtues of honesty and clarity.

Some might find the collection a bit disjointed (especially those who know Houston's work best from her story collections, "Cowboys Are My Weakness" and "Waltzing the Cat," which share tremendous thematic unity). The fact is that the pieces in this book were written at different times, for different audiences (diverse magazines) and those differences show.

The central thread of this collection, though, is Houston's efforts to understand more about herself. Many readers will sympathize and identify with her, as they are ravished by her brilliant, lucid prose. Pam Houston is definitely my weakness.

Like some of the other reviewers, I love Pam Houston and found the stories in "Cowboys Are My Weakness" to be among the best I've ever read. This book, however, needed a good edit. While I want to admire Houston's directness, I find her obsessions with such things as her weight and her boyfriends (or lack thereof) very off-putting. It was like reading an endless "Cathy" comic strip.

I bought this book because I thought it would be a good one to begin my winter hybernation with. Instead, it was a fast ride to nowhere. After a while I wanted to stop the author and say, "slow down, take a moment to feel your life deeply," for the author is always moving. Husbands, lovers, pets and friends come and go throughout these essays. Her closest friend lives thousands of miles away in Boston, so there is little intimacy there. The marriage that fell apart is mentioned once, never again. In the Bhutan essay, when she experienced a moment of intimacy with her guide she discarded it with the admonishment to move forward; always move forward. All this running around, or running away, wore me out and left me empty. It made me sad that, at the end, the only serious, long-term connection was with her dogs.

I waited until I sat down outside a little cabin in the Australian bush, just to read this book. I knew it would be good and I knew it would inspire me to drift. Pam Houston is refreshingly honest with her writing, you can taste, see and feel the world she lives in. As a reader of her stories you climb, hike and run rivers, you travel from forested mountain tops to the wild waters of the Colarado and the red rock haze of Southern Utah. This is a book for the adventurous and anyone that wants to travel in their mind. If you have ever questioned the word "Home" this book is for you and if you have ever lived in the mountains you may just want to go back. Terrific!

I bought this book because I thought it would be a good one to begin my winter hybernation with. Instead, it was a fast ride to nowhere. After a while I wanted to stop the author and say, "slow down, take a moment to feel your life deeply," for the author is always moving. Husbands, lovers, pets and friends come and go throughout these essays. Her closest friend lives thousands of miles away in Boston, so there is little intimacy there. The marriage that fell apart is mentioned once, never again. In the Bhutan essay, when she experienced a moment of intimacy with her guide she discarded it with the admonishment to move forward; always move forward. All this running around, or running away, wore me out and left me empty. It made me sad that, at the end, the only serious, long-term connection was with her dogs.

Don't let the title fool you, this writer's tale is so insecure and sheltered ME is the biggest topic in her life. This traveller makes what might have been a sweeping and dynamic adventure nothing but a narcissistic meditation. Her view of women is pretty backwards for a female under ninety-five years old.