by Sarah Silverman
The challenge for any memoirist is to win readers over to his or her side, and in The Bedwetter comedian Sarah Silverman succeeds — most of the time. Silverman, who seems to be more famous (or infamous) for her periodic political dustups than for her showbiz career, comes across as intelligent, witty, self-deprecating … and sometimes as annoying as the six-year-old brat next door.
The book is most entertaining when Silverman depicts her childhood and coming-of-age in 1980s New Hampshire. When she’s not penning sarcasm and poop jokes, her more-reflective passages are often touching. On the other hand, near the end of the book Silverman laments, “At the time that this book is being written, I am single.” Having just read about some of her childish exploits with colleagues at Comedy Central, my reaction to this statement was: “And this is surprising to whom?”
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