Overview
A fascinating, quirky, and above all personal look at herself and her life by the renowned model/actress, who illuminates her life and her world in a brilliant mosaic of short takes accompanied by scores of pictures ranging from those she keeps on her bedside table to family snapshots and her many Richard Avedon Vogue covers. She writes of her mother, Ingrid Bergman: "Second to acting, Mother loved cleaning, which is not to say she loved even that above me. I'm sure she loved me more than cleaning, but what made her happiest was combining the two." She writes of her father, Roberto Rossellini: "My father was a Jewish mother.... When we were children (there were seven of us), one of our favorite games was throwing ourselves onto Daddy's body. Lying on his side, he pretended to be the sow and we were the piglets." She writes about her famous nude scene in David Lynch's Blue Velvet and of posing for Avedon, Bruce Weber, and Steven Meisel. About being fired as the face of Lancome because she dared to turn forty. About the two years of scoliosis that blighted her adolescence. About acting as opposed to modeling. About being a daughter, a sister, and a mother. About her children: Elettra, who, when asked by her kindergarten teacher what she would do if she got lost in an airport, answered, "I'd look for my mamma's poster and wait underneath it for help"; and Roberto, her adopted son. About her unforgettable encounters with Anna Magnani (her father's onetime mistress) and Katharine Hepburn, as well as the peculiar behavior of her many pets. About her wardrobe. About lying. She talks - candidly yet discreetly - about the men in her life: her ex-husband Martin Scorsese, David Lynch, Gary Oldman. And she conducts intimate and extended dialogues with her beloved dead ones.Synopsis
She writes of her mother, Ingrid Bergman: "Second to acting, Mother loved cleaning, which is not to say she loved even that above me. I'm sure she loved me more than cleaning, but what made her happiest was combining the two."She writes of her father, Roberto Rossellini: "My father was a Jewish mother ... When we were children (there were seven of us) one of our favorite games was throwing ourselves into Daddy's body. Lying on his side, he pretended to be the sow and we were the piglets."
She writes about her famous nude scene in David Lynch's Blue Velvet, and of posing for such world-renowned photographers as Richard Avedon, Bruce Weber, and Steven Meisel. About being fired as the face of Lancome because she dared to become forty, and about the two years of scoliosis that blighted her adolescence. She talks -- candidly but discreetly -- about the men in her life: her ex-husband Martin Scorsese, David Lynch, and Gary Oldman. And she conducts intimate and extended dialogues with her beloved dead parents.
This book is utterly original, human, and provocative. Like the author herself.
Editorials
Charles Taylor
As celebrity bios go, Isabella Rossellini's Some of Me at least has the virtue of quirkiness. As the title implies, Rossellini is only offering part of her story. In this case, though, it's more than a case of simply holding a few things back. Rossellini warns us up front that what's here may or may not be verity: "Don't expect confessions, revelations, not even the truth," she writes. "It's a habit of mine to embellish and color events until I lose sight of what really happened. Even when I was a child my grandmother always had to ask me ... 'Truth or fantasy?' If you want to eliminate my grandmother's kindness and put it more bluntly, I lie. I always did."
Some of Me proceeds anecdotally (how could it not, since Rossellini seems too young to have written a memoir), and for a while, her stories are enough to keep the book engaging. Put it this way: Rossellini's light and charming manner would make a perfect late-night talk show interview. If she reveals anything about herself, it's that she leans more to the Mediterranean than the Scandinavian side of her lineage. She's amusingly truculent toward the people who ask her what it was like to grow up as the child of Ingrid Bergman and Roberto Rossellini. Since she never knew anything else, she asks, how could she say? And though she's blunt, palpably (and justifiably) angry when she writes of how Lancôme dropped her because they thought she was becoming too old to be their model, there's no malice when she writes about the men in her life, like David Lynch and ex-husband Martin Scorsese.
But although Rossellini claims to have inherited her mother's passion for cleaning and order, the narrative has a scattershot quality. Rossellini's own idiosyncrasies aren't enough to sustain the book and the imaginary conversations she constructs between herself, her father and her mother get to be a bit much. Sometimes, it's better for stars to remain a mystery. -- Salon