Look, this blog isn’t all fun and games–time for some seriousness!

In 2007, Steve Martin published a sort of memoir, Born Standing Up that chronicles his life as a stage performer. From the magic shops of Disneyland to lonely on-the-road burnout to superstardom in the late 1970s, Martin exercises his hindsight, talking about relationships with family, friends, co-workers, lovers, and the various venues that he called home for so many years.

What I really appreciate about Born Standing Up is the blue collar approach that Martin takes to his art. The book certainly makes his gigantic success (selling out shows with upwards of 20,000 seats!) seem like a flash in the pan (to be followed by a good film career) that came only after hardwork and a little bit of luck. Prior to “making it”, Martin spends years on the road, honing his show, amassing over 4 hours of material (my friends who are comics would say that this is quite a bit!), refining timing and movement. This account (in the chapters “On the Road” and “Breakthrough”) were easily the most enjoyable for me.

I suppose it would be easy to lay back and just give Martin praise. He’s clearly a funny guy, a very clear writer, and a very successful person (at least professionally…which is what this book is about more than anything). At the same time, he was also extremely lucky. At the age of 21 he was writing for a hit TV show, The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, ostensibly because he had dated the right person (Mitzi Trumbo). While his on-stage act is gaining steam a decade or so later, he is catapulted to huge success by the popularity of Saturday Night Live. Martin acknowledges these events as quite important in his career, but I feel that this was definitely a case of “being in the right place at the right time.”

In terms of writing, Born Standing Up is more than capable. The final chapter begins to feel a bit too nostalgic and sappy, but I’ll forgive Martin this. I am sure it is difficult not to slip into that mode as he blasts through the final stage of his career (film) in order to find some resolution to the strained relationship with his family. Martin’s prose is easy to follow, written, like most of his other works, in a very straightforward style. He has a knack for illustrating his own gags and capturing the silliness of the various eras he is working in (especially when it comes time to talk about “flower power”).

While Born Standing Up is a memoir of his stage-performing career, I personally would like to read a full autobiography. I love Martin’s writing here, and would gladly have sat through a discussion of his current pursuits. While I do not feel that Shopgirl is some great novel, I do feel that Picasso at the Lapin Agile is one great play, and I would have loved to have read more about his work on that particular project.

In the end, I’ve got to give Born Standing Up four out of five stars simply because Martin is clear and evocative, and he happens to hold a place in my heart as the star of some of my favorite films: The Jerk, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, and Roxanne, to name a few.