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A review by adunten
Born with Teeth by Kate Mulgrew
3.0
A word of caution: If you pick this up wanting to know all about Mulgrew's Star Trek: Voyager days, you might be disappointed, because not very much of it is about that world. Even during the fairly small, late section of the book that covers that part of her life, her account of what it was like to play Captain Janeway reads kind of like, “And we worked for 18 hours straight and then I went home and crashed into bed. And I got up at 3 am the next morning and did it all over again.” One thing it is not is a juicy backstage tell-all about the show, so if you're looking for that kind of book, you'll definitely be disappointed. Mulgrew barely has anything to say about her fellow cast members. As long as they worked together, they must have gotten on reasonably well, but it appears no significant personal friendships formed out of the show, if being mentioned in a bio is any gauge.
But if you want to know more about a feisty, tough, passionate woman who grabbed life by the horns and never let go, read on. Kate Mulgrew is one inimitable woman – “constitutionally as strong as a bull,” who drinks like a fish, smokes like a chimney, and goes through men like it's going out of style (okay, that's not fair by the numbers, but it sure reads that way). She and the people around her seriously seem to consume coffee, wine, and whiskey in roughly equal and astonishing amounts, and the amount of social lubricant imbibed on a regular basis strikes me as truly staggering. (It would definitely stagger me.) I tell myself of course she's only writing about the high points, but literally every meeting with any friend is at a bar, and every meal seems to involve bottle after bottle of wine, followed by nightcaps of Jameson. I'm not trying to suggest she's a lush or anything, but she seems to have a capacity for living the high life that would put me (and I hope most normal people) under the table.
One thing that comes through clearly is that Mulgrew is a woman who really loves men. She loves their bodies and their faces and their big, strong hands, and their rich, deep voices. When a man catches her eye, she writes about him in an openly appreciative way that you don't see that often from women. While it's not as hyper-sexualized as the way many, many men write about women (it's not really sexualized at all), there's no doubt she has an eye for man-flesh, and admires men the way you might admire a beautiful horse or a work of art or a well-made car.
And she's rarely without a man in her life. Her life story sometimes seems to be little more than a running account of which man's arms she fell into next. She's not known as one of the great beauties of stage and screen, but she seems able to captivate whichever fellow she wants, whenever she wants. She has a kind of self-assured charisma that attracts them like moths to a flame. At one point, during a tumultuous affair, she even had a mercurial Italian glitterato dying for love of her, flying from Italy to Chicago to win her back after a falling-out.
There are a number of surprising revelations about Mulgrew's personal life, but none more shocking than the fact that when she auditioned for the role of Captain Janeway, the role that catapulted her to super-stardom, she barely even knew what Star Trek was, had no particular interest in it other than that it was an acting opportunity, and royally tanked her audition because she was distracted by the latest man she'd fallen in love with. In fact,
The other thing that shocked me was not the fact of her accidental pregnancy as a young single woman of 22 in 1977, but the fact that moments after confirming the pregnancy, her doctor, seeing her react with shock rather than elation, was offering to schedule her for an abortion the following week. I don't often wax nostalgic for the 70s, but holy shit, we've come a long way since then... in the wrong direction.
Many years later, Mulgrew's account of filming Voyager while trying to be a socially acceptable mother to her two pre-adolescent sons strikes me very much as an indictment of what “socially acceptable mothering” means, and especially of working motherhood. These two little parasites resented the hell out of the very idea that she might have a life or an identity other than as their mom, and they punished her for it with bad behavior in spades. Which in my mind bears out the truth of the feelings I've always had about motherhood, as a murder of my independent me and becoming this new person who is nothing but "____'s mother."
Now, to be fair, there's a vast difference between wanting something for yourself, and the truly grueling shooting schedule she was working at that time. She really had no choice but to be an absentee parent at that point - unless she was prepared to quit the role of a lifetime. Which wasn't an option, not for someone like her. But it's worth mentioning that So obviously it's an option for some people - just not her.
During this episode, Mulgrew at one point vents her spleen on a world which simply doesn't put fathers through this, and in particular doesn't put male artists and performers through this. “Picasso wasn't conflicted!” But I was surprised at the absence of any apparent personal bitterness that the kids seemed angrier at her than their father, with whom they didn't even live. God, I'm so glad I'm not a parent. I wouldn't mind being a father so much, but being a mother... no fucking way. You could not pay me enough for this shit.
The story ends in a curiously unfinished way. Voyager ran from 1995 to 2001, and the book was published in 2015. The final scene, as best I can tell with the lack of temporal waypoints, is probably around 2001. So it's clear it was an intentional choice to omit any event after 2001. There is some closure, in the sense that But by choosing to end on that high note, she had to leave out any mention of the rest of her career, which notably includes her role as “Red” on Orange is the New Black. And a role I now truly wish I had seen, starring in a one-woman play called Tea at Five, a monologue reminiscence based on Katharine Hepburn's memoir. Who knows what else was left out?
Audio Notes: Mulgrew is a fantastic narrator (Exhibit A: [b:The Fireman|29875363|The Fireman|Joe Hill|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1478683499l/29875363._SY75_.jpg|40296144]), but for some reason, this is not a stellar example of how good she can really be. It's good, but it's not amazing. Maybe it's because she's mostly playing herself instead of an array of different characters, or maybe it's a sign that this was one of her earlier narrating gigs and she hadn't quite gotten the feel for it yet. I expect audio narrating is a bit different than acting because you can't emote with your body and you have to do literally everything with your voice.
But if you want to know more about a feisty, tough, passionate woman who grabbed life by the horns and never let go, read on. Kate Mulgrew is one inimitable woman – “constitutionally as strong as a bull,” who drinks like a fish, smokes like a chimney, and goes through men like it's going out of style (okay, that's not fair by the numbers, but it sure reads that way). She and the people around her seriously seem to consume coffee, wine, and whiskey in roughly equal and astonishing amounts, and the amount of social lubricant imbibed on a regular basis strikes me as truly staggering. (It would definitely stagger me.) I tell myself of course she's only writing about the high points, but literally every meeting with any friend is at a bar, and every meal seems to involve bottle after bottle of wine, followed by nightcaps of Jameson. I'm not trying to suggest she's a lush or anything, but she seems to have a capacity for living the high life that would put me (and I hope most normal people) under the table.
One thing that comes through clearly is that Mulgrew is a woman who really loves men. She loves their bodies and their faces and their big, strong hands, and their rich, deep voices. When a man catches her eye, she writes about him in an openly appreciative way that you don't see that often from women. While it's not as hyper-sexualized as the way many, many men write about women (it's not really sexualized at all), there's no doubt she has an eye for man-flesh, and admires men the way you might admire a beautiful horse or a work of art or a well-made car.
And she's rarely without a man in her life. Her life story sometimes seems to be little more than a running account of which man's arms she fell into next. She's not known as one of the great beauties of stage and screen, but she seems able to captivate whichever fellow she wants, whenever she wants. She has a kind of self-assured charisma that attracts them like moths to a flame. At one point, during a tumultuous affair, she even had a mercurial Italian glitterato dying for love of her, flying from Italy to Chicago to win her back after a falling-out.
There are a number of surprising revelations about Mulgrew's personal life, but none more shocking than the fact that when she auditioned for the role of Captain Janeway, the role that catapulted her to super-stardom, she barely even knew what Star Trek was, had no particular interest in it other than that it was an acting opportunity, and royally tanked her audition because she was distracted by the latest man she'd fallen in love with. In fact,
Spoiler
she didn't get the part initially, and only got it many weeks later after the actress they originally cast decided the 18-hour days, jargon-heavy scripts, and constant media scrutiny didn't suit her and quit less than two days into shooting.The other thing that shocked me was not the fact of her accidental pregnancy as a young single woman of 22 in 1977, but the fact that moments after confirming the pregnancy, her doctor, seeing her react with shock rather than elation, was offering to schedule her for an abortion the following week. I don't often wax nostalgic for the 70s, but holy shit, we've come a long way since then... in the wrong direction.
Many years later, Mulgrew's account of filming Voyager while trying to be a socially acceptable mother to her two pre-adolescent sons strikes me very much as an indictment of what “socially acceptable mothering” means, and especially of working motherhood. These two little parasites resented the hell out of the very idea that she might have a life or an identity other than as their mom, and they punished her for it with bad behavior in spades. Which in my mind bears out the truth of the feelings I've always had about motherhood, as a murder of my independent me and becoming this new person who is nothing but "____'s mother."
Now, to be fair, there's a vast difference between wanting something for yourself, and the truly grueling shooting schedule she was working at that time. She really had no choice but to be an absentee parent at that point - unless she was prepared to quit the role of a lifetime. Which wasn't an option, not for someone like her. But it's worth mentioning that
Spoiler
the actress who initially got the role had one child at home, and she in fact did quit because she chose motherhood over the role. And I bet you won't recognize the name of that actress (Genevieve Bujold) now, because she really did give up the role of a lifetime.During this episode, Mulgrew at one point vents her spleen on a world which simply doesn't put fathers through this, and in particular doesn't put male artists and performers through this. “Picasso wasn't conflicted!” But I was surprised at the absence of any apparent personal bitterness that the kids seemed angrier at her than their father, with whom they didn't even live. God, I'm so glad I'm not a parent. I wouldn't mind being a father so much, but being a mother... no fucking way. You could not pay me enough for this shit.
The story ends in a curiously unfinished way. Voyager ran from 1995 to 2001, and the book was published in 2015. The final scene, as best I can tell with the lack of temporal waypoints, is probably around 2001. So it's clear it was an intentional choice to omit any event after 2001. There is some closure, in the sense that
Spoiler
Mulgrew has successfully reunited with her biological daughter, adopted way back in 1977, and successfully reunited with the man who (you have to look outside the book for this), would go on to become her second husband.Audio Notes: Mulgrew is a fantastic narrator (Exhibit A: [b:The Fireman|29875363|The Fireman|Joe Hill|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1478683499l/29875363._SY75_.jpg|40296144]), but for some reason, this is not a stellar example of how good she can really be. It's good, but it's not amazing. Maybe it's because she's mostly playing herself instead of an array of different characters, or maybe it's a sign that this was one of her earlier narrating gigs and she hadn't quite gotten the feel for it yet. I expect audio narrating is a bit different than acting because you can't emote with your body and you have to do literally everything with your voice.