Jeannie Out of the Bottle (Barbara Eden with Wendy Leigh)

My oldest sister is a Jeannie fanatic. When we were kids, she sat entranced at the TV when I Dream of Jeannie was on, and now she cherishes her I Dream of Jeannie DVD set almost as much as her jewelry collection.  So when she saw Barbara Eden’s autobiography, she couldn’t resist. She bought it, devoured it, effused over it, brought it to my home and left it there, insisting that I read it.  Maybe because I was just born when I Dream of Jeannie’s original run ended, I was less fond of the show.  But I accepted the book, and last week when my reading rotation demanded a non-fiction, I smiled when I opened the front cover and saw that my sister had inscribed her own name, followed by ...who always dreamed of being Jeannie.  August 2011.

I wasn’t as smitten by the book as my sister was.  Even though Eden secured the services of a writer (Wendy Leigh), the text is sophomoric and littered with redundancies (which my Facebook subscribers know I love to hate).  Either Leigh is a bargain basement writer, or she deliberately kept the text mainly Eden’s work, and just organized it a bit and fixed the worst grammatical faux pas.

I also think that Eden embellishes the anecdotes for entertainment value.  I’m certain the story of the purring lion is less than gospel truth, since lions are physiologically incapable of purring.*  Unfortunately, that yarn occurs early in the book, so I was a smidgen skeptical for the duration.

Barbara Eden, Larry Hagman, and lion on set

With those caveats, I admit that Jeannie Out of the Bottle is fun to read.  I love rise-to-fame stories, how celebrities work and chance their way to success.  Barbara Eden’s saga is distinctly heavy on work and short on chance.  She details her vocal, dance, and acting training, her hopeless auditions, her humiliating failures, and her surprising successes.  From her teens and throughout her career, she accepted (almost) any job, and with inspiring enthusiasm.  She regales us with gossip - some flattering, some frightful - but her tact is admirable.  Even her tittle-tattle is ladylike.

If Eden’s telling of her life story is indeed accurate, then her morals were quite traditional, especially among the Hollywood crowd.  She was faithful in each of her marriages and routinely declined advances from even the most alluring male stars.  She didn’t like to curse, wouldn’t pose nude, and maintained a loving relationship with her mother.  She never developed a starlet attitude, and she suffered gracefully through her personal tragedies - the stillbirth of a baby she desperately wanted, an abusive second marriage, and her only son’s drug addiction and eventual death by overdose - accepting responsibility for her role in each of these events.

Barbara Eden, 2011

 Jeannie Out of the Bottle comes with an index of names and shows, and of course, several glossy pages of gorgeous photographs.  The pictures attest to Barbara Eden’s physical beauty, but you’ll have to read the text to see the beauty of her spirit.

 *Cheetahs are the only big cats that purr.  You really, really should search “purring cheetah” on YouTube.  Really.

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Animal Farm (George Orwell)

Animal Farm is a charming fairy tale describing the dark, adult realities of political revolution and corruption, of the advantaged few gaining the trust of, and then ultimately tyrannizing the less-blessed masses.  George Orwell wrote the story in 1943-44 to criticize Stalinism, but modern readers can (and probably will) apply the themes to current political goings-on or even to some corporate tactics.  

When the Manor Farm animals revolt against their human owner and assume responsibility for all farm operations, they take on anthropomorphic societal roles:  the loyal, unquestioning workhorse; the thoughtless, slogan-bleating sheep; the vain, comfort-craving carriage horse; the elusive, self-serving cat; the apathetic old donkey; the tale-baring raven; the snarling dogs, etc.  And of course the pigs (Who else?) emerge as the leaders and masterminds of the new social system.

Animal Farm illustration by Ralph Steadman

The animals are mostly good-hearted and willing workers, but not especially bright, which makes them vulnerable to manipulation. They forget history, recite songs and slogans rather than exercise thought and reason, and implicitly trust their ruler despite glaring reasons for suspicion.

My Christian high school didn’t teach this book, as many other schools did at the time, and I’m guessing this jab at religion is why:  Early in the rebellion, some particularly doltish beasts believe the lazy raven’s story of a carefree afterlife on Sugarcandy Mountain somewhere above the clouds.  With effort, the more discerning creatures convince the believers that Sugarcandy Mountain does not in fact exist, encouraging them instead to work hard for the present, communal good.  But over time, the corrupt leadership indirectly abets the spread of the Sugarcandy Mountain faith.

George Orwell

 Animal Farm is an extremely approachable summary of political maneuvers such as isolationism, desensitization, revisionism, scapegoating, subterfuge, fraternizing, and intimidation.  It’s a palatable little package for lightweights like me who won’t tackle a textbook on Soviet history.  In my never-to-be-humble opinion, this story should be read to children, then taught to teenagers, and enjoyed again by adults.  Pity I waited this long to read it.

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Steve Jobs (Walter Isaacson)

After reading Steve Jobs, I feel as if I know the man so well that I’m just gonna call him Steve.  I think he’d like that.  And since Steve was all about telling people what they want, I’ll tell you, you want me to call him Steve.

But I’ll call the author Isaacson because, while I admire his work (which also includes biographies of Albert Einstein, Henry Kissinger, and Ben Franklin), I just don’t know him as well.  That’s okay though.  His literary objective is to familiarize us with his subjects, not himself.

Steve, in fact, specifically solicited Isaacson to write this biography.  The choice makes sense.  Isaacson handles the job according to Steve’s basic design philosophies - the product should be simple but elegant, easily understood by the consumer despite its technical nature, with acute attention to detail.

I won’t carry on about Steve.  That’s Isaacson’s job, and he does it thoroughly, from Steve’s conception and adoption, his indulged childhood, his elementary school inquisitiveness and insolence, the high school mischief, college-age social rebellion, religious searching, troubled relationships, and business adventures and misadventures.  

Apple Store on Fifth Avenue in New York City

Isaacson manages to diplomatically present a divisive character, someone about whom lots of people had extremely unflattering things to say.  There’s no denying the negative.  It’s clear that Steve was an obnoxious spitfire.  The ubiquitous first-person accounts of his outbursts, crying fits, and astonishing rudeness will keep you reading a text that might otherwise have all the charm of a technical journal.

However, there’s also no denying Steve’s formidable business success.  Here’s what made him special:  While most of us schlubs tend to be predominantly right brained or left brained, Steve was both.  He loved design.  He loved technology.  And this resulted in products that worked great and looked great.  Steve also loved control, and the book explains how he ultimately produced a simple, friendly user experience by tightly restricting access to the internal hardware and Apple’s software.  By prioritizing quality over profit, and by narrowing Apple’s focus to just a handful of devices at a time, he created superior products that people were - and are - willing to pay for.

Walter Isaacson

 This chubby book (630 pages on paper, or 2,571 pages on my iPhone) is stuffed with goodies: end notes, an extensive index, an annotated list of characters (which is helpful since Isaacson drops hundreds of names), and most importantly, pictures!  The content is approximately 80% business and 20% personal, which seems like a fair representation of his life.  While I wish Steve’s familial relationships had been given more page space, I do love my Apple products, so I got through the business stuff with a fair degree of interest.  But Steve’s tempestuous personality is what carries the story along, and after reading this, I hope-hope-hope that Apple can also carry along without him.

Check it out on Amazon!