What a history, honestly. One of the earliest memories I have is my mom and dad making a fuss over, probably a second televising of Roots; setting my brother and I down in a mandatory viewing, something I don’t think had ever occurred. What seemed annoying at the time for prepubescent boy what a formative experience, so my parents obviously knew what they were doing.

Tyson mentions that out of all her portrayals people approach her mentioning Roots the most often. I believe it. Tyson is ingrained in history to a faceted degree. Knowing this, I also had absolutely no idea she was married to Miles Davis.

This is an interesting memoir because, unlike most, it is not rooted in a specific theme, particular life trajectory, or anything at all. It’s mostly straight forward and chronological with the odd peppering of anecdotes. It is also very conversational and both of these lend the text as a whole ungrounded qualities that felt less interesting because of the narration, which often didn’t jibe with the authorial voice.

Tyson describes getting into a part so fervently that a “hump” appeared as if by magic, as her body inhabited the roll. And after the part was played, it similarly magically disappeared, and a body shaping mold thing was never needed, as many assumed was used, apparently. The interesting thing to me about this was the quality of that recollection is pretty matter-of-fact, and I was wondering to myself, How could it feel to lose yourself to a part so much so that your own body is coopted by that headspace?

There is also a pretty heavy amount of proselytizing, which I didn’t expect. Tyson had a firm belief in god and her place in the world via that lens. She also goes into bouts of speaking on prophetic dreams and a strong sixth sense that has her characterize her life as a sort of moving through Gods’ channel, yet with a degree of agency that seems like it’d be at odds with it.

But the largest characters in life are always contradictory, I find. When things line up too well, those are the stories that feel incongruent with a human experience, imo. Though, this memoir does feel like it has a finger on the scales, and you expect that, given the conversational tone.

Either way, this is a staggering amount of years to cover. 96? Almost inconceivable. Tyson lived through so many events and thought that her staying so long on this earth was rooted in her working right up until she died.

When you stop, you stop, essentially.

Well worth a read, though I would recommend it in print.