The paradox of Martin's success was that his everyman appeal was built on analytical coldness. Unfortunately, that frost carries over into this memoir.I read the book in fan-boy mode and was thus happy for scraps, but I was always aware that what was provided was just scraps.
While Martin provides a fascinating analysis of his technical development in Born Standing Up, he provides precious little direct insight into his own persona. Why was he capable of so successfully exploiting his ability to stand outside a subject (i.e.: comedy) and look at it sideways? Why could he not now bring that same faculty to bear on his own character?
The last 30 or so pages also seemed in a mad rush to wrap everything up and get out.