Diane's Reviews > Small Fry: A Memoir

This was an insightful and heartbreaking memoir. The author is the daughter of Steve Jobs, the co-founder of Apple and a notorious jerk.

I will admit that I almost stopped reading this book because it was so disturbing in parts. I was angry with how cruel Steve could be to Lisa and her mother, who was Steve's former girlfriend. For years, Steve denied that Lisa was his child, which was devastating for her. Even though he eventually acknowledged he was her biological parent, Lisa grew up feeling as if she were a mistake, something that Steve wished hadn't happened. Lisa's emotional journey is a compelling story, and I'm glad I finished the book.

By the end of the memoir, Lisa seems to have found some peace with her father, who died of cancer in 2011. Previously I had read Walter Isaacson's biography of Steve, and Lisa's book is a good complement to that impressive work. I would recommend both books to anyone interested in learning more about the genius/asshole Steve Jobs.

Favorite Quotes
"I see now that we were at cross-purposes. For him, I was a blot on a spectacular ascent, as our story did not fit with the narrative of greatness and virtue he might have wanted for himself. My existence ruined his streak. For me, it was the opposite: the closer I was to him, the less I would feel ashamed; he was part of the world, and he would accelerate me into the light."

[on living at Steve's house]
"It looks so good here ... When you looked into the windows of other houses, beautiful ones, the people inside the light, you imagined happiness for them. Now I was inside it. How can it look so good but feel bad? ... It must be me that was wrong, I thought. Not it."

[Steve commenting on Lisa's high school activities]

"The thing is, Lis," he said, in the slow voice that meant he was about to say something incisive and possibly devastating, "you have no marketable skills, not one."

"But I'm doing all these activities," I said, "and I get A's!" And yet even as I said it — the newspaper, the mock trial, the fact that I'd worked at a lab over the summer, and took Japanese — I wilted. I got his point. The confection of extracurricular activities, the flurry of self-importance — it was just a fever dream. No one hires someone for being on a debate team. I had not impressed him or fooled him. He knew all this stuff wasn't worth much, and he was worried for my future.

I assumed that activities led to other activities in a ladder ascending to adult responsibility. I wasn't supposed to be prepared for an adult job. Others seemed to think that too. At the same time, because he spoke with authority, and because I had been hoping to impress him, and because he was famous and successful and knew about the world, the remark was devastating ... We all made allowances for his eccentricities, the ways he attacked other people, because he was also brilliant, and sometimes kind and insightful. Now I felt he'd crush me if I let him. He would tell me how little I meant over and over until I believed it. What use was his genius to me?