Title: My Razzle Dazzle
Author: Todd Peterson
Publisher: iUniverse
ISBN: 978-1491764114
Pages: 344
Genre: Fiction
Reviewed by: Simone Wolfe
Pacific Book Review
My Razzle Dazzle is the lightly fictionalized life story of its author, Todd Peterson. Peterson presents his life as a collection of clichés —the kid who runs away with the circus, the Midwestern boy who moves to the big city, the young gay man who finds himself in San Francisco—but his unrelenting sincerity adds meaning to these old stories. Peterson cuts between third-person narration of his life and first-person reflection from the present. The former is much more successful than the latter, which tends strongly toward the awkward and corny. The story of Todd, however, ends up being a Forrest Gump-like journey through the decades, told with equal parts sincerity and vulgarity.The book might be overly precious, especially since Peterson is prone to exclamation points and apparently unironic statements of awe, if it weren’t for the frequent, graphic sexual interludes (including a scene at the bathhouse where the main character takes fourteen partners in one night) and faithfully crass dialogue. Other than the bathhouse scene—which is unusual in its positivity and lack of regret, even in the face of HIV—the best and most original scene in the book is the drag queen tricycle race, which features sassy repartee and genuine transformation in the main character, from internalized femme/homophobia to acceptance of himself and those who are even more other than him.
Other than in this scene, though, Todd doesn’t seem to change much. One thing I found puzzling about this book was the total lack of angst and irony with which Peterson presents his life. Maybe he really is one of those rare souls who treats every experience with genuine awe, or I’m just used to the cynical tone of contemporary confessional literature. More likely though, I think, Peterson was unable to shake the self-consciousness that comes from writing about oneself; thus the use of third person and the hesitation to leave any negativity unresolved by the life lesson it engendered. While Peterson’s positivity is admirable, it compromised the feeling of truth I look for in any literature. What life is lived without some lingering bitterness and unresolved confusion? As a reader, I had to wonder what I was being sheltered from.
Sometimes I felt that Peterson lacked sympathy and understanding for his female characters, especially with offhand comments like “How on earth do straight men deal?” While I was left with the feeling that, like many gay men, Peterson himself may have a problem with women, this flaw actually lent much-needed complexity and darkness to Todd as a character. In the first-person parts, Peterson reveals that he is HIV-positive and has been struggling with his health for a long time. Perhaps this is why he made sure to commit only the best parts of himself to posterity. We can only infer the rest.
I think that everyone deserves to write a memoir, and as readers we should try to witness as many life stories as possible. But even if everyone did so, Peterson’s life story would be more interesting, relevant, and well-written than most. Although I wish he trusted the reader more—by being willing to show his dark side in Todd and forego the first-person explanations—he has still entrusted us with a very important story and message.
