I first heard of Robert Hughes some years ago when I was watching a PBS television series, American Visions. He struck me then as a brassy Aussie who knew his art stuff but was also quite bombastic at times in his tendency to get carried away. His memoir is oddly compelling and frustrating at the same time. Here is a review that I mostly agree with so I will try to not repeat the same stuff.
http://www.powells.com/review/2006_10_30.html
It opens with the horrendous car crash that nearly killed him several years ago. This was an opening story that really grabs you. Then it proceeds to his childhood, which was not too awful except for losing his father early and for the requisite catholic boarding school which seems to be an excellent way to turn most people who are exposed to that particular brand of education off of religion in general.
His personality is oversized and he has made his share of enemies as well as a ton of friends. The description of his first marriage is blunt and apparently was such a train-wreck that I felt sorry for his baby son who was stuck with parents who clearly should not have been parents at that point in their lives. To later find out that he and his adult son were estranged prior to the son’s suicide is very tragic. But Bob has no fear in exposing his less than endearing traits as well as his talents and strengths. I think that writing about one’s own life must be incredibly challenging and making it readable even more so.
My main complaint about the book is that it took so long to get to his arrival in America (this book is 395 pages) that it suddenly ends in the early 70s. So we don’t find out anything about him for the past 35 years of his life except for the car crash that was at the beginning of the book. He was an art critic for Time magazine for 30 years. Where are the rest of his stories?
This book left me wanting more.
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