Book Review: The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield (2002)

The paperback cover of The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield, 2002.

Steven Pressfield’s 2002 book The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles is an interesting little book. It’s all about how to defeat resistance and embrace your creativity—whatever form your creativity might take. Pressfield is a former Marine who has written a series of successful historical fiction books.  

The War of Art feels quite dated in some regards—the macho language and the cover blurb from Esquire calling it “a kick in the ass” makes it seem even older than 2002. I’ve read a bunch of 2-star reviews of this book on Goodreads, and many of them are critical of points that Pressfield makes in the book, or opinions Pressfield states. Those reviews are missing the point. With any kind of self-help or advice books like this one, it’s best to simply take what works for you and chuck the rest aside. It’s extremely unlikely that every page of the book will provide a eureka moment.  

Pressfield is big on the distinction between the “amateur” and the “professional.” The amateur is the dreamer who never finishes the task, the professional is the one who sits down and churns it out. I think it’s a bit harsh to make such a rigid classification between the two types. But Pressfield’s larger point is that there is a power in just saying “I am an artist,” or “I am a writer.” If you say it long enough, it starts to feel real to you. I’ve found that in my own life—I’ve started to describe myself as a writer more often when people ask me. And no one has ever challenged me about whether I’m an amateur or a professional.  

Art of any kind is a discipline: you HAVE to sit down at the easel, or piano, or pad of paper or computer to create anything. But there’s also this mix of magic in it—I think every artist has had those moments where it just flows, and you can’t really answer “why did I pick that color, that note, that word?” It just happened. Pressfield is good at understanding this mixture of discipline and magic that goes into the act of creation.  

Something I wish Pressfield had expanded more about was how he made a daily living during the seventeen years before his writing made him any money.  

Pressfield got excellent advice from one of his friends after a movie he wrote the screenplay for tanked at the box office. His friend told him “So you’re taking a few blows. That’s the price for being in the arena and not on the sidelines.” (p.72) It’s easier to say that when it’s your friend taking the blows and not yourself, of course, but I found this comforting—part of being an artist is taking the criticism that will inevitably come your way. The only way to not be critiqued is to exit the arena, and that doesn’t sound appealing.  

One of my favorite things that Pressfield writes in the book is this: “We must do our work for its own sake, not for fortune or attention or applause.” (p.161) I completely agree. Although I will gladly accept any fortune, attention, or applause about my work you throw my way. But he’s right—I do my writing because it pleases me. I hope my writing finds an audience and I hope that other people enjoy my writing as well. But I have limited control over that.  

The War of Art might help you if you’re trying to minimize resistance and take some concrete steps towards focusing on your art more. You’ll probably find something in it that speaks to you.

Book Review: Memories Are Made of This: Dean Martin Through His Daughter's Eyes, by Deana Martin, with Wendy Holden (2004)

The cover of Memories Are Made of This: Dean Martin Through His Daughter's Eyes, by Deana Martin, with Wendy Holden, 2004.

Dean Martin was handsome, charming, funny, and had a terrific way with a song. Martin’s act as a loveable drunk was an invention, but it fooled the public for many years. After his breakup with Jerry Lewis in 1956, Martin needed a new nightclub act. Now he could expand his talents, as he no longer had to be just the straight man to the manic Lewis. Of course, the magic of Martin and Lewis was that Dean was so much more than just the straight man. Dino borrowed some of comedian Joe E. Lewis’ drunk act and made it his own. The transition from comedy duo to solo star was so successful that by 1961, a Saturday Evening Post article largely focused on the discrepancy between the public “Dino” that audiences saw on TV and nightclubs, and the private Dean Martin, who was in reality an early riser so he could get out on the golf course. 

Martin’s daughter Deana gives readers an intimate view of the Dean Martin that few people saw in her 2004 memoir Memories Are Made of This: Dean Martin Through His Daughter's Eyes, written with Wendy Holden. The book is a fascinating look at the handsome, amiable man who succeeded at every medium he tried. Television, movies, records, live appearances, Dean Martin ruled them all.  

Deana was born in 1948, the fourth and final child from Martin’s first marriage to Betty McDonald. While Dean quickly remarried, wedding Jeanne Biegger the following year, Betty never got over the breakup of their marriage and descended into alcoholism. When Betty left her children with her sister Anne, promising to be back in three hours, but then disappeared for three days, Anne took them to Dean and Jeanne’s house. This was the real beginning of Deana’s relationship with her father, who quickly obtained custody of his children from his first marriage.  

Deana grew up in a blended household with six siblings, a very sweet stepmother who she quickly started calling “mother,” and a father who was working constantly.  

Deana’s own personality seems to have been very in tune with her father’s and she realized quickly that she had to adapt to Dean’s schedule and interests if she wanted to spend time with him. High on the list of Dean Martin’s interests was golf. So, Deana gladly went with him to the driving range. Conversation was kept to a minimum. “Happy with his own company and entirely self-contained, he didn’t feel the need, as most of us do, to fill a gap in a conversation with chitchat.” (p.88) The hours Dean spent with Deana at the driving range meant a lot to her: “After years without a father, I was spending time alone with Dad at last, and that, to me, was the greatest prize of all.” (p.89)  

At the very beginning of the book, Deana tells us what her response is when people ask her the question “Was he a good father?” She writes “No. He wasn’t a good father, but he was a good man.” (p.3) It’s an interesting distinction to make, and I think by the end of the book it makes sense.  

For Dean Martin fans, one of the joys of reading Memories Are Made of This is knowing that Dean was just the nicest person. As Deana writes, “My father was, truly, the sweetest man in the world. He had a unique aura and was brilliant at making everyone around him feel good.” (p.79) That’s a true gift, and Martin’s warmth still comes across through the screens today. Whether he’s singing a song or acting in a comedy sketch, it’s impossible to watch Dean Martin and not smile.  

Deana reveals some interesting facts about her father. One of the tidbits I found most interesting was about Dean’s reading habits: “He claimed he’d read Black Beauty in school, and it made him cry, so he decided never to read another book again.” (p.151) On the one hand, as someone who loves books and the written word, I’m flabbergasted that Dean wasn’t a reader. Didn’t he even read Airport, by Arthur Hailey, when he was cast in the movie? But on the other hand, I find it quite hilarious and pragmatic that Dean only read one book. Books make you sad, why read another one? Deana writes that if anyone ever told Dean at a party that they had written a book, Dean would reply “Congratulations, I read one.” (p.151) Which is a very funny and snarky thing to say.  

Dean’s sadness over Black Beauty also connects to his love of horses. Dean rode the same horse, Tops, in many of his westerns. Dean was so sad when Tops died in 1972 that he left the set of the movie Showdown to bury the horse. Universal Pictures sued Dean for leaving the set, but he eventually returned. The writer Nick Tosches felt that Martin leaving the set of Showdown was so significant that he used it as a short prologue to open his 1992 biography Dino: Living High in the Dirty Business of Dreams. Although in the prologue Tosches doesn’t mention anything about Tops’ death, which seems to have been the catalyst for Martin walking off the set.  

Deana Martin doesn’t dish too much dirt about her father, but she does mention that he had relationships with singer Petula Clark and actress Inger Stevens. I’m not surprised about Dean’s relationship with Petula Clark, as she and Dean had amazing, electric chemistry. Inger Stevens co-starred with Dean in the 1968 western Five Card Stud, which also starred another laid-back icon of mid-century cool, Robert Mitchum. Deana reveals that she had a brief relationship with Mitchum while they filmed Young Billy Young. Deana never told her father about her relationship with Mitchum, which is understandable. (p.164)  

Deana’s special bond with her father was solidified when Dean’s mother Angela taught Deana how to make pasta fagioli, Dean’s favorite. One of the sweetest chapters of the book is when Deana starts making pasta fagioli for Dean after his mother’s death. It was a way for Deana to do something for her father, a man who had everything.  

Memories Are Made of This is a charming and touching look at Dean Martin, one of the great entertainers of his time.