BORN STANDING UP: A Comic's Life, by Steve Martin, Scribner, 207 pages, $25
Most of his fans probably think of him only as an iconic comedian/actor, but Steve Martin, who calls himself "fundamentally shy," is a remarkably multifaceted talent — and could have spent his entire career as a writer.
In college, he studied philosophy and found a favorite book — W. Somerset Maugham's "The Razor's Edge," which "swept him up in the book's glorification of learning."
He also became "enamored of the poetry of e.e. cummings" whose famous statement, "Like the burlesque comedian, I am abnormally fond of that precision that creates movement," remained firmly lodged in Martin's mind.
By the time he transferred to UCLA, Martin became overwhelmed by "advanced logic" and changed his major from philosophy to theater — with the uneasy realization that he would have to be a performer instead of a teacher.
In fact, Martin has made literary contributions of his own for many years to The New Yorker, and his recent best-selling novellas, "Shopgirl" and "The Pleasure of My Company," reveal a highly polished writer. He has also written acclaimed plays ("Picasso at the Lapin Agile" and "Wasp") and five screenplays.
In this entertaining, graceful memoir, he emulates that reputation, although he also writes on a comedy level likely to be appreciated by a wide audience. He begins with a lively description of his comedy/magic act, which he started doing at age 10. But he didn't want to be restricted to magic, so he showed a propensity for innovation very early.
Martin also shares some tender feelings about his relationship with his family growing up, the abusiveness of his father — and the necessity to re-connect with his mother and sister after performing away from home for many years.
Two of the highlights of his life were his role as writer and performer on TV's funny and politically controversial "Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour" on CBS in the late '60s — and his key comedic role on NBC's popular "Saturday Night Live."
He also talks of being smitten by a beautiful girl named Mitzie Trumbo, daughter of famed '50s blacklisted writer, Dalton Trumbo. He lost the girl, but he learned a great deal from the wise and talented father.
Mitzie was stolen away by film director John Frankenheimer, who was directing a film in Budapest with a script written by Trumbo. Slyly, Martin adds, "Incidentally, Frankenheimer died a few years ago, but it was not I who killed him."
Unfortunately, Martin writes virtually nothing of his seven-year marriage to British actress Victoria Tennant, whom he met on the set of "All of Me," and whom he married when he was 41. Reportedly, she left Martin after falling for the Australian actor, Andrew Clarke.
Martin escapes discussing Tennant by alleging that she deserves a biography of her own. Except for that omission, Martin's memoir is close to being perfect.
E-mail: dennis@desnews.com