Book Review: ‘Cher: The Memoir,’ by Cher

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NonFiction

The first volume of her frank autobiography is a testament to resilience, chronicling a grim childhood and the brazen path to stardom, with and without Sonny.

A photo of a 20-year-old Cher shows her with black bangs and shoulder-length black hair. She is wearing a mint-green jacket with big lapels over a pink-striped blouse,
Cher, at 20, in 1966, the year after she and Sonny Bono released their hit song “I Got You Babe.”Credit...Dezo Hoffman/Shutterstock

Alexandra Jacobs

Nov. 19, 2024, 5:00 a.m. ET

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CHER: The Memoir, Part One, by Cher


Before Twitter morphed into the strange ghost town of X, with lurking users wondering whether to post or stomping off in high dudgeon for Bluesky and Threads, Cher was one of its finest sheriffs. Publications including The New York Times analyzed her grammar-defying style and compiled her stinging critiques of the then and future president Donald J. Trump.

In Volume 1 of her confident, confiding new autobiography, which covers the period from her birth on May 20, 1946 (“under the sign of Taurus on the cusp of Gemini, so it’s like there are three of us in here”), to the dawn of her serious movie career in the early ’80s, Cher explains that her distinctive syntax on the platform evolved from undiagnosed dyslexia. “Punctuation marks are like symbols to me that you throw in the air and they land where they land,” she writes.

Happily “Cher: The Memoir” is not the round of verbal 52 pickup this portends, but a detailed and characteristically profane recollection of its author’s eventful life: singing, dancing and acting her way out of a childhood so “Dickensian” there were rubber bands around the saddle-shoe soles and ants in the Rice Krispies.

Cher’s embodiment of that trendy wellness buzzword “resilience” started from the moment her mother, Jackie Jean Crouch (later Georgia Holt), bailed on an abortion appointment. “It was her body, her life and her choice to make,” Cher writes. “Thank God she got off that table, though, or I wouldn’t be here to write these pages.” Her famous contralto has been modulated, but not Autotuned past recognition.

Cherilyn, as she was called, though her birth certificate read Cheryl, is America’s melting pot personified, and her long place on the front (and sometimes back) burner of pop culture evokes both the country’s loftiest promises and its worst failures. A great-grandmother on her mother’s side had Cherokee heritage, raising her children in a log cabin in the Missouri backwoods, in poverty that dripped down generations. Cher’s biological father, who was Armenian, stole, gambled and would become a heroin addict.


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