I had heard this was good, nay: great, in fact. I had the audio book version of it as well, but waited to listen. I waited, because it was a posthumous release. What good is the audiobook of a comedy autobiography, if the author is not going to tell you their story directly. So, this sat on the shelf for a while, and occupied space in my phone, until I finally got around to listening to it.
It’s a long book, so I picked a long day to get into it. In December, during a full Saturday working with Habitat for Humanity in Tai O, an sleepy little fishing village in some of the farthest areas outside of Hong Kong, as we helped to renovate the old stilt-homes and get them ready with a new coat of paint, I popped in my headphones and gave Last Words a listen.
What struck me at first was the introduction, which had two people discussing the book – specifically the audio book: Tony Hendra, who had been helping Calrin to piece together his written pieces into a book, and Kelly Carlin-McCall, his daughter. As I slapped paint on the house, inadvertently splattering it on my arms and face, I discovered that Patrick Carlin, George’s older brother, would in fact be reading the story. This did not particularly draw in my attention, until the book began.
As the book is read, you would think Geroge read it himself. Patrick has the voice that we have come to associate with his brother, the mannerisms, volume, tone, all consistent with a performing George Carlin. It brings life back from the dead, and tells his story one more time.
Have a listen to Lewis C.K.’s memorial of George Carlin: then read the book
The story in aggregate is very telling. Contrast it to Lewis C.K.’s praise of his mentor, and Last Words shows how hard comedy was for George to survive. It also outlines the rise of modern day comedy. He talks not about trudging to open mic nights and waiting and waiting and hoping to get on: he talks about going to clubs and asking if he could go talk on stage! The manager said “the mic’s open Thursday and Wednesday. Do whatever you want.”
He goes through his struggle with drugs, owners, getting gigs, building a reputation, killing his reputation, going from the seven words you can’t say on television to the conductor on Shining Time Station, failed TV shows, working with Kevin Smith and growing old. It’s a great listen, from an amazing comedian, and someone who struggled with a lot through life, but managed to survive and thrive doing what he loved.
