03 Jun 2011 05:20:23
Steve Friedman does just that in his new book, "Lost on Treasure Island: A Memoir of Longing, Love, and Lousy Choices in New York City." Raised in the Midwest, the memoir begins when he's already an adult and moving to Manhattan for an editing job at GQ. What follows is an often funny but always depressing chronicle of his efforts to find "Mrs. F." Nothing seems beneath him. He sleeps with the "high-heeled, silky-haired public relations junior powerhouses" who want their product mentioned in the magazine. He's a willing partner with adulterers, and he attends "meetings" (Alcoholics Anonymous, perhaps, though he never offers specifics) all around town to pick up women when they're vulnerable.
To be fair, Friedman does learn a thing or two along the way — like how to score free adventure trips, workouts and cruises all in the interest of filling magazine pages. He seems to have a productive relationship with his therapist, whom he manages never to sleep with and who runs a fortunetelling business on the side (he refers to her as "Psychic Rose").
But he never lets himself get too introspective. Moments of clarity or insight are mentioned or hinted at but soon give way to the next "lousy choice" in the book's title. Perhaps he thought it would make for a lousy read if he bared too much of his soul. What we get instead is a memoir filled with funny characters and anecdotes that leaves us wondering what the writer learned about life along the way.
