McMurtry's meandering 'Memoir'

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A MEMOIR

By Larry McMurtry

Simon & Schuster, $24, 272 pages

REVIEWED BY CHRISTIAN TOTO

Author Larry McMurtry warns readers twice during his latest nonfiction book about the perils of writing a memoir about his life as a book man. It's hardly a sexy topic, we're told, and unless an author can connect book collecting with universal themes the effort will be fruitless.

So it's a mystery why the prolific author rarely makes those connections in "Books: A Memoir," his meandering new release.

It's hard to fathom how Mr. McMurtry ("Lonesome Dove," "The Last Picture Show") could take a potentially boring subject — book collecting and sales — and render it as dull as advertised. But the proof is on the page.

Sure, Mr. McMurtry includes some revealing passages about his book collecting days. He's too pure a storyteller to ever slump to soporific levels. But the memoir finds him near-desperate to keep our attention for any extended period.

"Books" starts with promise and flair. Mr. McMurtry grew up in a home virtually bereft of books. When a small stack finally fell in his lap, he devoured every last one. Each volume was a small treasure, something to be savored and read over and again.

The books themselves were a far cry from great literature. That didn't matter. They transported him to another place far from his home near Archer City, Texas. Books also provided his first link to American popular culture.