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A review by kylegarvey
Sleepwalk with Me: and Other Painfully True Stories by Mike Birbiglia
4.0
At a slim 188 pages, Sleepwalk With Me seems at first pretty usual and shallow. The ol' standup's memoir, short and jokey and no-nonsense. But Birbiglia's always been enormously thoughtful and interesting and self-aware -- in comedy routines, ThisAmericanLife monologues, and in the latest promotion for his movie -- so I thought I'd better give his book a shot. As a whole, it's wise, deft, and profoundly worthwhile.
Honestly, for most of its length, Sleepwalk With Me seems to be just yoked-together comedy bits (short staccato sentences, punchy paragraphs, hit-or-miss) about growing up in a Boston suburb in the '70s, funny anecdotes with family and friends, and rocky self-discovery. But there's so much control and pacing and awareness along with those that they're much more special. And the last chapter (the titular essay, and all by itself the premise for the movie) definitely delivers on the potential of what came before.
There are several expertly-reprised notes of grace in Birbiglia's book that stuck out to me:
*He recalls his mother's Catholic minced oath: instead of "Like hell!", she'd warn him with "Like fun!"
*From an embarrassing childhood misdeed (you may be able to guess what), Birbiglia earned the nickname "Tinkles."
*He imagines, while visiting an Alaskan wildlife retreat with his sister, that the bears lumber up to them with just a few peaceful words: "I'm a bear, etc."
Each of these punchlines out once and then comes back again, sometimes again a third or fourth time, but always in an interesting and thoughtful way.
And the book's closer, like its opener, notes an opposite-day-satirical but still sweet reprise from his dad, a persistent "Don't tell anyone." It's hard to end an überconfessional memoir with an idea better than that one.
Honestly, for most of its length, Sleepwalk With Me seems to be just yoked-together comedy bits (short staccato sentences, punchy paragraphs, hit-or-miss) about growing up in a Boston suburb in the '70s, funny anecdotes with family and friends, and rocky self-discovery. But there's so much control and pacing and awareness along with those that they're much more special. And the last chapter (the titular essay, and all by itself the premise for the movie) definitely delivers on the potential of what came before.
There are several expertly-reprised notes of grace in Birbiglia's book that stuck out to me:
*He recalls his mother's Catholic minced oath: instead of "Like hell!", she'd warn him with "Like fun!"
*From an embarrassing childhood misdeed (you may be able to guess what), Birbiglia earned the nickname "Tinkles."
*He imagines, while visiting an Alaskan wildlife retreat with his sister, that the bears lumber up to them with just a few peaceful words: "I'm a bear, etc."
Each of these punchlines out once and then comes back again, sometimes again a third or fourth time, but always in an interesting and thoughtful way.
And the book's closer, like its opener, notes an opposite-day-satirical but still sweet reprise from his dad, a persistent "Don't tell anyone." It's hard to end an überconfessional memoir with an idea better than that one.