Some of Me
is full of magic realism, moral elegance, and monstres sacrés
. Though Isabella Rossellini deliberately chooses to reveal only bits of herself in her anecdotal new memoir, what amazing aspects they are. The photos tell part of the story: alongside Vogue
covers and sumptuous magazine spreads, there are odder images--Ingrid Bergman in a balaclava; Rossellini sprawled on a chair with her potbellied pig and dog sprawled on her, all three looking equally pensive.
But, oh, the prose! More provocative than ten tell-alls stacked together, Some of Me is an analyst's treasure trove and a reader's delight. There is something for everyone. Those interested in Rossellini's rise and fall as the Lancôme model will find indignant if good-humored fodder--she warns some to skip ahead "if you can't stand boring." But even those of us who wish we didn't know all those supermodels' names will find this section intriguing. Rossellini also provides some intriguing insights into her often bizarre film roles. There are, though, more bravura sections in this memoir. Who knew that Rossellini still communes with her dead parents? The author prints some of their debates verbatim, though she has already warned: "It's a habit of mine to embellish and color events until I lose sight of what really happened." Rossellini also takes on more upsetting memories such as the painful treatment she underwent for scoliosis and the thoughtless questions people ask about her adopted child. At one point, she remarks, "True elegance is for me the manifestation of an independent mind." Some of Me is a truly elegant manifestation.
From Library Journal
Rossellini is a personality in every sense. As the daughter of Ingrid Bergman and Roberto Rossellini, she was famous by default even before she forged her own career by design, most noticeably as Lancome's cover girl. In this lisless work, she ruminates on such diverse, rather banal subjects as aging, pets, her mother's hand-me-down fur coat, and the sex lives of garden insects. Her recollections of her family and of influential people around her are occasionally moving, and the sensitivity with which she created her roles in the films Blue Velvet and Wild at Heart makes for an interesting aside. Rossellini's insight into the fashion industry is trenchant: advertising campaigns are shown to be the ultimate postmodern compliment to legendary women. Belied throughout is the author's truly cosmopolitan upbringing in Paris, Rome, and New York. More of a musing than a memoir, this slim volume is candid and intimate but not terribly profound. Of interest to those fascinated by the cult of personality.-?Jayne Plymale, Univ. of Georgia Libs., Athens
Copyright 1997 Reed Business Information, Inc.