Oh boy. This book is a brain dump of immense proportions. While I liked a few parts, overall, this was not a favorite. I saw the humor, appreciated Waters' signature shock value, but was bothered throughout.
Don't get me wrong, I knew what I was getting into. I'm no stranger to this guy. I think I was about 12 the first time I saw Cry Baby. It wasn't the topics he covered, it was the structure that drove me nuts. This book was a mess of unconnected paragraphs, mismatched thoughts, and disjointed tangents that didn't always circle back. The mental strain of processing this book consistently put me to sleep as I tried to read it.
There's also a complete lack of wisdom. No nuggets of insight, no real 'aha moments.' He may call it tarnished, but it's not wisdom. It's more like speculation or daydreams. Sharing what your ideal home would look like or how you want your remains dealt with does not impart wisdom. Obsessing about your Reborn baby doll or what Warhol was like isn't helpful and it was only kind of interesting.
Being a Waters fan seems to be diametrically opposed to being a professional writer. I like some of his movies. After the first time I saw Cry Baby, I wanted to watch it over and over. Hairspray is a great musical if you watch the original with Ricki Lake. While never seeing Pink Flamingos, it was most definitely a hot topic of conversation in my freshman dorm. As a filmmaker, Water's offbeat vision is in my wheelhouse, but write an entire chapter with only run-on sentences, and you've lost me.
At one point in the book, Waters says, "I am a man, a damaged, self-involved man..." This is very obvious in how he writes, so that's a warning to you. If you love the unusual, shocking, and crass, this might be your cup of tea. Otherwise, even if you're a fan, stuff might sneak up on you, so watch out.
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