I now regret not having read this memoir sooner.

This is not a book about tattoos. Rather, Trachtenberg uses his seven tattoos as a simple yet effective framework for not only his autobiographical narrative, but also his literary studies, theological musings, and cultural explorations. His story is familiar: self-destruction exacerbated by drug abuse, a love-hate bond with his parents, an inability to commit to relationships. What distinguishes this memoir from the many (tiresome) confessional accounts flooding the market are a self-mocking wit, the willingness to assume responsibility for his mistakes, and--most of all--the grace and hilarity of his prose. (I challenge anyone not to laugh aloud while reading his discourse on Christ's stigmata or his tale of attempting Zen meditation under the influence of speed.)

The breadth of his recall of literature is impressive--from James Boswell to Philip K. Dick. In one chapter, he brilliantly weaves a reading of "Lord Jim" into both an account of his travels in Borneo and a reminiscence of his affair with a Native American woman. In another, he entwines a fictional noir script (a la James M. Cain) with his tale of a writer whose stories increasingly resemble the details of their own friendship.

Equally impressive is his knowledge of religious customs; he is able to lampoon just about every faith with equal verve. ("Hell isn't even mentioned in the Torah. The closest thing you find is Sheol, a dusty gray underworld that's as inclusive as the Hard Rock Cafe and, I'm sure, as dreary: Anyone can get in; everyone will.") Some might find his mockery of religion blasphemous, but his skewering seems far more fond than venomous.

Both "Kirkus Reviews" and a customer's post on this Web site mock this book as an "exercise in self-indulgence." But isn't that the very definition of any memoir? Other readers might wonder: who is this guy; why is his life so interesting that I should bother reading about it? But we don't enjoy reading about Clarissa Dalloway or Stephen Dedalus because they have fascinating or unusual lives. Instead, like good fiction, Trachtenberg's memoir succeeds because he takes the oft-old tale of decline and recovery and turns it into a clever, coherent, captivating narrative.


Naked.   January 18, 2000
 5 out of 7 found this review helpful

I bought this book because I had read about its premise in a magazine, I forget which. I thought ,"Hey, cool, a memoir centered around the acquisition of tattoos." Since I acquired my tattoos at very specific times in my life, I was curious about someone else's tattoo reasoning.

This book was so much more than I expected. I felt as if the author were lying naked for everyone to see--not only his tattoos, but his soul. His words were honest, sad, funny, and touching. After reading this book, I no longer felt alone in the world; I felt as if someone finally admitted to the same feelings I felt guilty about for so long.

This book really is one man's journey to find a self he can live with, a self that emerges triumphant, with 7 beautiful scars to boot.


Looking at our own self-pity through another's eyes.   April 21, 1999
 4 out of 5 found this review helpful

I took some time in reading the early chapters of 7 Tattoos because Trachtenberg doesn't hook you right away. Instead he teases you with a novel method of dividing his life. The book seems to be Trachtenberg's attempt at catharsis made public for all to view. One is enticed to read more about the seamy world in which he once lived and I must admit I was interested in the book at first due to my own tattoo and a fascination with life on the edge of control. Trachtenberg certainly lived it and you get a few exciting details. However the book is not about tattoos,drugs, sex, or even the wild life. Instead it is about the introspective suffering and doubt with which we all struggle. Indiviuality is an odd thing, we seek and desire it, yet even as we seek we attain it. 7 Tattoos is more about the desire that we all have to believe that our most painful emotions are out of the ordinary; he tries to convince us that his pain is the result of deep trauma when in actuality he suffers from the pain we all share, that of being alone no matter how many friends we have. He captures wonderfully the agony which we all put ourselves through in trying to rectify our own individuality with that of those around us. A very good read, if you give it time.


A Surprisingly Enjoyable Auto-bio   June 27, 2002
 4 out of 4 found this review helpful

7 tattoos is a true rarity in the world of literature: An enjoyable and fascinating autobiography about someone most of us have never heard of. Trachtenberg uses the 7 tattoos on his body, the universal symbol of dysfunction, as a road-map into his consciousness and experiences. What emerges is not a self-indulgent man without redeeming qualities as someone else asserted, but a portrait of humanity as a whole, its ugliness and selfishness explored to the fullest. To call Trachtenberg unlikable is to call humanity unlikable. What he does so successfully is shine the light on his own life, which in turn shines it on our own. And if for no other reason than that, this is one of the most brilliant self-exporations to come along in years.


Read the Book   September 9, 2000
 3 out of 3 found this review helpful

7 Tattoos is a good read for anyone who has spent sometime on the wild side and can relate to what Trachtenberg is saying, and what an amazing trip he has had becoming what we assume is a responsible adult. A little reminiscent of Jack Kerouac's 'On the Road', but not as ugly and Trachtenberg at least expressed a concience about most of his trangressions. I did an immediate re-read as I was intigued and wanted a deeper understanding. On the second pass I found myself wondering where he got the money to travel so much and was he sponging off his hard working second generation Holocost parents? The second pass also gave focus to the self indulgence present in his inner child ramblings, but what are memoirs for? It feels honest and alleviates one's own paranoia about self loathing and guilt - we all got some.