Said in a book review Sunday in The Washington Post:

Every memoirist is of course entitled to tell his or her story in whatever manner seems most appealing, but Twain chose one loaded with pitfalls. His was one of the most interesting and unpredictable minds this country has produced, but this discursive ramble through his life and mind proves nothing so much as that what interested him at any given moment is not necessarily of interest to anyone else. Reading the “Autobiography of Mark Twain” too often is like being trapped in a locked room with a garrulous old coot who loves the sound of his own voice and hasn’t the slightest inclination to turn it off.

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