Few autobiographies nowadays can be said to be “honest,” but this does not mean that they cannot be revealing-even devastatingly so-a point that is brought home in an especially poignant way by the posthumous memoirs of Pablo Neruda, the Chilean poet and Nobel laureate.
Ours is an age sorely pressed for alibis, and neither publishers nor public seem to tire of reading the “extenuating circumstances” which purportedly explain everything from personal indiscretions (Kay Summersby Morgan) to genocide (Albert Speer).
$11.95.Īn autobiography, as Cardinal Newman once confessed, is an exercise in self-justification.
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