The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas

I just finished the absolutely delightful, an extraordinary Alice B Toklas cookbook and was curious about their lives. So I pick this up. Rather stunned by their self-centered, self aggrandizing Stein. But I got over it. Amazing life, time and place. I kept looking at most of their friends, who also had interesting lives. I understand that Alice died destitute, which kind of breaks my heart.

This is a lively read. It's also an interesting artifact from an artist who, from her perch atop the turmoil of World War I Paris, managed to craft a work that was modern in style, yet classically human in expression. Here she stood on the cusp of 19th and 20th century literature: T. S. Eliot's The Wasteland this is not, nor is it Hemingway's musings on the Lost Generation or Fitzgerald's cold, vacuous and material world. It's not cubist or surrealist, either, despite the influences evident elsewhere in her work. Instead, this is Gertrude Stein unplugged: witty, hip, self-deprecating, self-aggrandizing, opinionated and sharp, and we love her for it. It's a book about hanging out with friends in Paris, and that's about it, thank you. It has a whimsical style reminiscent of Seinfeld, but with the real-life characters of Picasso, Hemingway, doughboys and lovers wandering through the set, it also carries literary weight and impact.In a sense, this is a book about nothing, but it's delivered with such intelligence and energy, one might swear Gertrude Stein is leading the reader through her teeming streets of early 20th century Paris on the way to catching a new art sensation. Stein has a remarkable feel for these streets, too: their intimate moods and pulses.The autobiography, actually not an autobiography at all (but we get the joke), is also a parody of her partner Alice B. Toklas, who bears the brunt of affectionate barbs when not showering the author with zingers and unflattering observations of her own. This technique of imitation is uncommon in American literature--it's more common in Russian and Spanish classics, for example--but Stein carries it off with requisite naturalness and wit.Despite her playfulness, Stein refrains from the avant-garde in this book. There's little "Steinese" experimentation or inventiveness here. The words flow from her pen and typewriter like conversation, unflappably so, and this choice of language is shrewd, as the work gives a you-were-there quality; like a photo album, this book is a testament to her visual and "painted" frame of reference. Those who want to see her more edgy experiments in syntax and diction should check out  Selected Writings of Gertrude Stein , an edition that includes this autobiography and an interesting, if oddly unflattering at times, essay by F. W. Dupee and helpful notes from editor Carl van Vechten.At times, The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas feels shallow, I must say. While far from cold and plenty humorous, the writing conveys the aura of a modern city on the go, where relationships are casual, the stakes are low and people move in and out of other peoples' lives with little impact. Some of this entails love "French style," while at other times a character might drop dead with no more than a mention. Even French soldiers, fighting one of the most savage wars in human history, emote their greatest dramas only when responding to mistakes in Stein's thoughtful, but occasionally absent-minded, letters. The overall effect is comedy, then, and while at times the author reminds us of the Battle of the Marne or the bitter setbacks of artists and couples, the turmoil around and within her characters never overwhelms the characters' insatiable urges to live and laugh. Against a backdrop of world war, the end result is diminished, if not unresolved. To wit, Stein writes of Toklas, "as Gertrude Stein's elder brother once said of me, if I were a general I would never lose a battle, I would only mislay it."Gertrude Stein was a warm and charitable person. More than eager to help France manage the war--even to the point of driving an ambulance for the A.F.F.W.--she had a Ford motor car shipped to Paris from the States, then shuttled wounded allies in her makeshift ambulance while constantly negotiating with military officers for fuel. She also hosted wayfarers and other visitors at her rue de Fleurus home, where she generously cooked dinner, served wine and critiqued artists' work in-between sleepless nights of work. All this is adorably depicted in the book.One such artist was Hemingway. Depicting him as a callow, earnest newspaper boy with grand ambition, Stein displayed mixed opinions about him and other writing contemporaries while remaining ebullient when such editors and writers, including F. Scott Fitzgerald, recognized her work. When pointing out the strengths and foibles of her fellow artists she also, along the way, made shrewd observations about art; these commentaries are well worth a look. Both the insider who cavorted with Picasso and the outsider whose work was a target of mockery, Stein maintained a self-image that mirrored the contradictory inspirations around her. Altogether forgetful, telling us through Alice "she has a bad memory for names," a genius-by-association, and a genius personified, she constantly picked herself up, pulled herself together, then embarked on new adventures.Gertrude Stein is all about adventure and challenge, and since she succeeds in both with a shrug and a laugh, she's also an eminent character. As she conveys through this literary conversation with herself and Alice B. Toklas, Stein might not know why, either; but the answer to why, for this writer, is subordinate to the question. In this work, as observation-upon-observation unfolds, enveloping "the real," "the truth" and "the whole" in both criss-crossing patterns and repetitive sounds, Gertrude Stein searches for deeper, more indefinable truths about her friends and acquaintances--not in terms of form, but in terms of the unconscious. She would vigorously contradict this point, but her work with Radcliff's psychologist William James is evident when she so probes the essences of her characters without killing her patients.A fine effort by an engaging writer.My Titles Shadow Fields Snooker Glen

An "autobiography" of Alice B. Toklas, by Gertrude Stein. This is my first Stein book, and I found it very well written. I enjoyed reading about the various famous (although they weren't famous at the time) people that were involved in the avant-garde movement in Paris in the early 1900's; Hemingway, Picasso, Matisse, Man Ray, Juan Gris, etc. I'm not sure there is any "point" to the book except to describe the incredible coalescing of greatness in one point in time and space. I think the book could have been half the length and still be interesting. It's only slightly shy of 200 pages, but even still, it seems a bit long. After a while I found myself not caring that Picasso was going off to Spain again with a different girlfriend, or that the Matisse's had permanently moved out of Paris. There is also a huge number of people that have become mere footnotes to history, if even a footnote. One truly prophetic statement: "[Gertrude Stein] thinks Fitzgerald will be read when many of his well known contemporaries are forgotten." How true.

The book arrived in pristine condition, wrapped in cellophane. The artwork is beautiful. Great edition. Great gift.

Book edition is lovely, with soft thick paper and beautiful paintings. Recommended for anyone interested in early XXth century cultural Paris scene. Gertrude Stein has a writing style that takes a bit of fettimg used to, but worth it nonetheless. I read it along with The Alice B. Toklas Cookbook for a fuller picture of these two women's memoirs.

I loved reading this book once I got used to the writing style. Having been introduced to them in high school, I knew that Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas were amazingly prescient art collectors. I had little idea that they were at the epicenter of the arts of their time. The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas, written by Gertrude Stein, was originally published in the 1930's, but this is a newly reissued edition which is enlivened by the delightful art of Maira Kalman.Reading this, was an amazing journey to the Paris of Picasso, Matisse, Braque, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, etc. And I loved the moment of realization of my 2 degrees of separation when Aaron Copeland visited Gertrude Stein. (Everyone visited Gertrude Stein, apparently.) Gertrude Stein was Picasso's close friend. I met Aaron Copeland and am therefore one or two degrees away from Picasso and Matisse. If only I'd known. Anyway, it was a fascinating read and one I may read again soon. There is so much to take in, it's like being introduced to a ballroom filled with every important figure of the first half of the 20th century - and trying to remember all their names and stories later.I was drawn to the book because I knew of and enjoy the work of Gertrude Stein and the art of Maira Kalman.Also, I know and love the art of that time, love Paris and am familiar with many of the characters who appear in the book's pages. So, for me, it was an obvious match. I very much enjoyed reading it.

I read this after reading Alice B Toklas' cookbook (a gossipy very meandering set of recipes indeed). Having read Richardson's 3 volumes on Picasso, Stein's anecdotes about Picasso are to much fluff without substance. The faux autobiography appears to be a transparent vehicle for self-adulation and "ain't Gerty grand" rather than an interesting account of living through a transformative period in History -- art history, literary history, and European history. A missed opportunity to provide a "you were there" view of a pivotal time and rapidly changing mores/aesthetics/literary standards.

A gossipy account, and perhaps the most readable of Stein’s work – 3 StarsThis slim volume may be considered a modern classic, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it…and I really didn’t. Whilst it’s not helped by the presentation (the font is tiny, and white space minimised to the nth degree), I found myself constantly annoyed by Stein’s self-aggrandisement.Written in just six weeks, only one page is devoted to Alice’s life prior to her arrival in Paris and her first meeting with Stein. From this point on, although the true nature of their personal relationship is carefully avoided, Alice is rarely out of Stein’s company. Accepting that everything here is from Stein’s perspective, and essentially about Stein, it’s unsurprising that this supposed autobiography of her long-term lover (I doubt Stein would have ever viewed Alice as an equal partner) elicits little emotion from Stein. Indeed, the level of detachment in Stein’s written treatment of Alice is shocking at times.Where the book scores in terms of interest is that it presents a fly-on-the-wall perspective, particularly of life in the artisan quarter of Paris. It’s gossipy and notable artists, writers, and personalities of the times are name-dropped as readily as apples from a tree in an autumn storm: Picasso, Hemmingway, Apollinaire, and Jane Heap are all to be found among the pages…but be prepared to read about Stein’s interactions with them, and not Alice’s. The bit that made me chuckle though was Stein’s scathing dismissal of a chance encounter with Natalie Barney…one could almost sense Stein sharpening her claws.Overall: Interesting, gossipy, but it’s still not an easy-read, and is most definitely all about Stein.

Bliss is it to open this book and peruse Kalman's illustrations! Whether or not I wrill re-read the Autobiography is an unknown; I'm more inclined to re-read What is Remembered. But I will return again and again to the illustrations, followed by the (very) short film 'My name is Alice B. Toklas' (Youtube) in which the illustrator, complete with nose, shadow of a moustache and Voice, brings Alice B. back to life, first in an apartment, then in the streets of an American city. Satie plays in the background. Alice lives, thanks to the inspired more-than-just-an-illustrator.

A fascinating book, all the more so as the character of Alice B. comes over as though she really did write it. Lots of names are mentioned, some still well known, others not but they seem to be used to give a personal picture of the cultural movements of that period and how different combinations of artists influenced each other, rather than existing in the vacuum of just being names from the past. Very enjoyable and gossipy, some anecdotes end with memorable quotes, some just fade away. The description of the war years adds a sombre note.

Well worth reading. Would totally recommend especially after reading The Paris Bookseller and in the 100 years of the publication of Ulysses by James Joyce.

ngl this would have slayed a little more if the grammar was better. realllyyyy irritated mefelt like an eve babitz on steroids and with a lot more name dropping