The memoir “Living with a SEAL: 31 Days Training with the Toughest Man on the Planet” by Jesse Itzler was intriguing to me because it covers a very specific period in the author’s life: a month. Given that I’m working on a memoir and struggling with structure and what to include or leave out, this seemed like a siren song of simplicity that I was curious about.
Representation versus expanding horizons
The first notes I jotted down when I started writing this book review are:
- Author = white privilege personified
- SEAL = badassery personified
For the most part, neither of the two protagonists come across in a way I could identify with. On the one hand, I can appreciate that this means the memoir is broadening my horizons and my understanding of other lifestyles and personalities. However, it also meant I didn’t enjoy the book as much as I might have.
Are these two concepts opposites, or is there a way to check both boxes? I’d like to think that great writing takes any experience or perspective and makes it at least a little relatable – but maybe that’s just my wishful thinking.
The exception to me not being able to identify with the two main characters is the last few chapters. There, the storyline shifted to lessons learned and the bigger picture. Pointing to a life philosophy built around not caring what others think and daring to do things your way, I felt almost kinship to Itzler and SEAL.
“What we were really doing was just exercising my most important muscle – my brain. Specifically, my mental toughness muscle. I learned that by constantly doing things that are hard and making myself uncomfortable, I improve my ability to handle obstacles. I get comfortable being uncomfortable – and that’s real mental toughness.”
– Jesse ITZLER, “Living with a SEAL”
Looking beyond the narrative
The tone of this memoir is – I think – meant to be light and funny. While I appreciate that this book was built off blog posts Itzel wrote to record his experience and share it informally with family and friends, it felt a bit forced. A few moments made me smile or chuckle, because what SEAL makes Itzel do seems crazy, and Itzel’s reactions are raw in a slightly crass but funny way. But it felt like Itzel thinks he’s really funny, and if he is (very possible), I don’t think it comes across.
In terms of the structure, the focus is on a very specific time-frame with select flashbacks to give you a feel for Itzel’s history and personality (as well as his wife’s). That was masterful in its execution, as I think the temptation to give more context and personal anecdotes must have been very tempting.
Would I recommend this book?
It’s not fair to say I’m on the fence about recommending this book, so I’ll phrase that differently but equally honestly: I can imagine recommending this book, but in very specific circumstances. Unlike a book that left me speechless, in tears, or full of inspiration and that I’d talk to anyone and everyone about*, this is a memoir that might come up in conversation with a writer interested in memoirs, a friend who is into extreme races or physical challenges, or if the topic of how the 1% live comes up.
Have you read this book? Do you agree or disagree with the above? I’d love to hear from you!
*The greatest example of such writing is “The Throne of Glass” series by Sarah J. Mass, in case you were wondering