Small Fry: A Memoir

Lisa Brennan-Jobs is a good writer: quick-witted, poignant, and observational. Her style reminds me of her aunt’s (Mona Simpson) novels. This is no surprise, since she mentions her in Small Fry as an inspiration. Also of note, is that her aunt has written a fictionalized account of the same period in Lisa’s life as is largely covered by Small Fry. I read that novel, A Regular Guy, when I was a teenager. In fact, I’ve been reading books about Steve Jobs for about two decades now. Like many readers, Steve Jobs is the reason I picked up Small Fry, but Lisa’s journey resonated with me almost as much as the moments about her father.When you become interested in a historical figure and start watching and reading about them, there’s a cast of characters—their family, their friends—that you’re introduced to along the way. My first exposure to Lisa came through the 1999 film Pirates of Silicon Valley, in which the story of her relationship with her father plays prominently. By the time I had read The Second Coming of Steve Jobs by Alan Deutschman the following year, to me she was an important sidenote—his initial denial of paternity of her following her birth, a significant blemish, for an otherwise heroic figure. The deeper you go in a canon (and there is a Steve Jobs canon—at least fifteen books), the more you become interested in those peripheral characters. And somewhere along the way I became interested in Lisa’s story.Lisa’s story is intertwined with that of her mother, Chrisann Brennan, Jobs’s high school girlfriend, first love, and financial dependent for a large portion of Lisa’s life. She wrote a memoir a few years ago, The Bite in the Apple. So, in actuality we have three books—A Regular Guy, The Bite in the Apple, and Little Fry—which overlap very significantly in the period and relationships that they capture. Each comes from a different perspective, and I think it was likely important to Lisa that she recapture her own narrative through this memoir. It’s not only a chance to correct the record, but also can provide some kind of closure.Ostensibly this is more than a memoir about her relationship with her father. It’s a memoir about growing up with that as a backdrop, but I frankly found the first half of the book pretty slow. That’s probably because there’s less of her father in the first half, and the parts with her father were the parts that interested me the most.Lisa has a tendency to write about events that occurred to her 30 years+ ago in great levels of detail. Levels of detail so great (exact words, imagery, and small happenings) that one has to conclude she either has a photographic memory, or is remembering things in the most dramatic way to suit her narrative. The Bite in the Apple also suffers from this flaw—overly exact ancient memories that cause the reader to question the veracity of their content. It is of course possible that both mother and daughter have incredible memories, but it’s also possible that there’s a little bit of dramatic license in their accounts.Small Fry is emotionally powerful. The story is dramatic enough that even readers more interested in Lisa’s emotional journey than Steve Jobs will get something out of it. Ultimately, as most memoirs by definition tend to be, it’s also one-sided. The low points with her father seem awful, and the high points seem agreeable and fascinating but dulled. Mona Simpson and Laurene Powell Jobs (Steve Jobs’s widow) have put out a statement questioning Lisa’s harsh treatment of her father. I think, in wanting to recapture her narrative, Lisa did have something of an agenda in writing this book, even if she’s not willing to admit it to herself in its pages. However, that doesn’t mean it’s not a good book, that doesn’t take you on a meaningful emotional journey, and further develop your understanding of Steve Jobs.

Some years ago, I read an essay/article by Lisa Brennan-Jobs about her stay in Italy. At the time, I was curious; but I also love romantic stories in a foreign/travel setting. So when I discovered that the memoir SMALL FRY was being published, I immediately wanted to read it, to know what the author's life had been like.SMALL FRY depicts a side of Steve Jobs that makes me a bit sad and, at times, disappointed. No doubt, he had issues that would have benefited from therapy. To explain away some of his behavior, I've reasoned that he may have seen himself as an agent of change: a Zen master of sorts.My life was directly affected by Steve Jobs. My mom, then an educator and college professor, bought two Apple II pc's. In addition, she borrowed a Mcintosh computer from her college, so that at one point, we had three Apple computers in our house. (Today, the Apple computer is anointed with an elite vibe that approaches cult status; but we do not own one.)In the early days of Apple, my mom had met Steve Jobs. She admired him, believed in the vision of a pc revolution. She convinced me to learn how to use our Apple pc, because she said that it was the future. My mom explained that this gadget would be useful to me, an educational tool I should not miss out on. Somewhat grudgingly, I learned how to use our pc's. Soon, I would use an Apple II pc to type up all my writings and my mom's papers/dissertation.In our home, we paid attention to what Steve Jobs did and said. Back then, we had no knowledge of his personal life and eccentricities.SMALL FRY reveals the personal side of Steve Jobs: he was complicated, flawed, not always likable, but always interesting. Ms. Brennan-Jobs tells her lifestory frankly, filled with the contradictions and vicissitudes of life with "a change agent." You get to see Steve Jobs in his most personal moments: from the circumstances of the author's birth to her father's last days. Although I finished the book a few days ago, I still wonder about the dishwasher incident. It's like a koan or a puzzle. What was he thinking?I am so glad to observe that Ms. Brennan-Jobs vanquished, escaped to university--almost despite her father (who paid her tuition, but otherwise gave little to no help or encouragement).Everyone who reads this book will come away with a sense of what kind of father Steve Jobs was. I won't state my own opinion here: You have to read the book. I will say, though, that Chrisann Brennan--the author's mother, who suffered and sacrificed so much--looks like a saint to me. (I may read her memoir someday.)Having considered converting to Buddhism myself, I realize now that Steve Jobs was probably practicing the Buddhist tenet of non-attachment to people, things and results. But I think perhaps he misapplied it, for too often he seemed either uncaring or cruel.From a Rolling Stone Magazine interview of Steve Jobs, the quote that surprises, impresses, and gives a peek into his life motivations is when he says: "The goal is not to be the richest man in the cemetery. At least, it's not my goal, anyway. . . . In the broadest context, the goal is to seek enlightenment--however you define it."For me, one takeaway from all this personal info is that we don't need to know what Steve Jobs ate for dinner, or why he named a computer "the Lisa", or that he wore tattered jeans most of the time, or the name of his guru, or what kind of car he drove. We don't need to know; but we want to know. This kind of detail I personally find fascinating. (I also recommend the bio by Walter Isaacson.)And the truth is that, if you like and use/used any one of the devices that Apple invented, you will have more than a passing interest in the personal anecdotes that form a segment of their inventor's life. Just be prepared for the truth to be occasionally unsettling.Lastly, I can yet recall that on October 5, seven years ago, I wistfully googled as much information about Steve Jobs as I could. I landed on a "memorial" website, in which thousands of people worldwide had posted their condolences and sense of loss. I, too, made a brief post. Inexplicably, I felt as if I had lost a friend.