A Fine Romance

A Fine Romance

by Candice Bergen

Narrated by Candice Bergen

Unabridged — 14 hours, 2 minutes

A Fine Romance

A Fine Romance

by Candice Bergen

Narrated by Candice Bergen

Unabridged — 14 hours, 2 minutes

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Overview

In this New York Times bestseller, acclaimed actress Candice Bergen “shows how to do a memoir right...The self-possessed, witty, and down-to-earth voice that made Bergen's first memoir a hit when it was published in 1984 has only been deepened by life's surprises” (The New York Times Book Review).

“Candice Bergen is unflinchingly honest” (The Washington Post), and in A Fine Romance she describes her first marriage at age thirty-four to famous French director Louis Malle; her overpowering love for her daughter, Chloe; the unleashing of her inner comic with Murphy Brown; her trauma over Malle's death; her joy at finding new love; and her pride at watching Chloe blossom.

In her decidedly nontraditional marriage to the insatiably curious Louis, Bergen takes readers on world travels to the sets where each made films. Pregnant with Chloe at age thirty-nine, this mature primigravida also recounts a journey through motherhood that includes plundering the Warner Bros. costume closets for Halloween getups and never leaving her ever-expanding menagerie out of the fun. She offers priceless, behind-the-scenes looks at Murphy Brown, from caterwauling with Aretha Franklin to the surreal experience of becoming headline news when Dan Quayle took exception to her character becoming a single mother. Bergen tackles familiar rites of passage with moving honesty: the rigors of caring for a spouse in his final illness, getting older, and falling in love again after she was tricked into a blind date.

By the time the last page is turned, “we're all likely to be wishing Bergen herself-funny, insightful, self-deprecating, flawed (and not especially concerned about that), and slugging her way through her older years with bemused determination-was living next door” (USA TODAY).

Editorial Reviews

The New York Times Book Review - Lisa Schwarzbaum

There is a way…to do a memoir right. Candice Bergen shows how in A Fine Romance. Readers of Knock Wood will not be surprised: The self-possessed, witty and down-to-earth voice that made Bergen's first memoir a hit when it was published in 1984 has only been deepened by life's surprises…Bergen tells all…with aplomb and a sense of humor. She is also plain-spoken…As a fictional newswoman, Murphy Brown was iconically brassy. As a memoirist, Candice Bergen is flesh-and-blood classy.

Publishers Weekly - Audio

06/29/2015
Actress Bergen performs a beautifully entertaining and down-to-earth reading of her memoir, which is as heartwarming and stirring as her performance. There is tenderness in her voice as she reads the first letter that her late husband, Louis Malle, wrote to her, and wonderment when she recounts traveling with him. She speaks with candor about widowhood, motherhood, remarriage, and aging in a society driven by appearance, all of which are conveyed effectively by Bergen’s signature gravelly voice. Most endearing of all is Bergen’s delightful sense of humor—dry and self-deprecating—sparing herself little dignity as she describes her fears during childbirth, her passion for food, and her “skewed sense of moral superiority to women who are intensely self-disciplined when it comes to food.” She sounds on the verge of laughter as she recounts the pranks on the set of the television show Murphy Brown. Bergen’s memoir is a charming blend of joy, sentimentality, and unabashed honesty that is augmented by Bergen’s skillful and heartfelt performance. A Simon & Schuster hardcover. (Apr.)

Publishers Weekly

02/16/2015
With her trademark wit, Bergen (Knock Wood) leads readers through the highs and lows of her professional and personal life in this entertaining and poignant memoir chock-full of Hollywood cameos. After a disastrous first date unexpectedly leads to love, Bergen marries French director Louis Malle in 1980 and the pair travel the world as their respective films take them from India to France. Always ambivalent about motherhood, Bergen decides to have a child at the relatively late age of 39. Their daughter, Chloe, is born in 1985—an event that changes the dynamic of Bergen’s relationship with Malle, as he’s unable to be wholly present for Chloe’s upbringing due to filming commitments. The desire for a steady schedule is one perk that draws Bergen to the groundbreaking CBS comedy series Murphy Brown. Her descriptions of the rewards and challenges that came with playing the titular tough-talking “Mike Wallace in a skirt,” her first foray into both TV and real comedy, are among the book’s strongest sections. Dealt a crushing blow when Malle was diagnosed with a rare and fatal neurological disease and died in 1995, Bergen recounts finding her footing again both in her career—she spent several seasons on the series Boston Legal—and in her love life, marrying New York real estate developer Marshall Rose in 2000. Never afraid to poke fun at herself or celebrity culture, Bergen is as fresh, funny, and biting as Murphy Brown was nearly 30 years ago. (Apr.)

Diane von Furstenberg

Candice’s book is candid, honest, interesting, and reading it, you love her more than ever.

St. Louis Post-Dispatch

Honest, self-deprecating and well-written.

Bette Midler

Candice Bergen's memoir is moving with the wisdom that only age can bring. The woman you thought had everything has been through more than most of us could bear. Revelatory, anguished, and utterly inspirational.

The Examiner

Bergen has a way of making readers think they are friends who understand her life and know her dreams and frustrations. The book is forthcoming and refreshingly human.

The Buffalo News (Editor's Choice)

"Candice Bergen’s follow-up to her Knock Wood is among the more commendable celebrity memoirs you’ll encounter. . . . Along with writing skill . . . you’ll be impressed with [her] candor and wisdom."

LA Times

"Three decades after writing her memoir Knock Wood, Candice Bergen has penned a follow-up, A Fine Romance . . . with candor, humor and poignancy."

The Washington Post

Bergen may not have had Murphy’s sharp elbows or unswerving career focus, but she reveals herself to be just as complicated and sophisticated as her television counterpart—and infinitely more introspective. . . . [A Fine Romance] succeeds in the way a good memoir should. It presents a human life in full—with great glories and heartaches and watercolored memories. Bergen tells her story with humor, confidence and candor. Perhaps she’s not so different from Murphy after all."

The New York Times Book Review

"Candice Bergen shows how to do a memoir right. . . . The self-possessed, witty, and down-to-earth voice that made Bergen's first memoir a hit when it was published in 1984 has only been deepened by life's surprises. . . . As a fictional newswoman, Murphy Brown was iconically brassy. As a memoirist, Candice Bergen is flesh-and-blood classy."

Associated Press

"A Fine Romance is full of heart. Even though Bergen is surrounded by celebrity friends at the turn of every page, it's evident she is about as down-to-earth as they come. There is an honesty in her writing that is both refreshing and encouraging.

Bookpage

Bergen’s rapier wit, warm personality and unflinching honesty make these stories of life and love all the more appealing.

USA Today

"You'll fall for Bergen's A Fine Romance. . . . Her writing and storytelling are superb throughout. . . . With this memoir, we're all likely to be wishing Bergen herself—funny, insightful, self-deprecating, flawed (and not especially concerned about that), and slugging her way through her older years with bemused determination—was living next door.

The Wall Street Journal

Bergen is . . . daring in her smart, self-mocking memoir A Fine Romance. . . . She’s awfully good company.

Barbara Walters

A Fine Romance is just that. Candice tells her own story with honesty and humor—a story of loves lost and found, of marriages, joys and heartaches. I am not sure Candice ever realized her own beauty or how well she writes. Well, she is, and she does.

Lesley Stahl

Candy's memoir is intimate and surprisingly candid. We learn, we laugh, we marvel because her voice is as honest, funny, and rapier-smart as Murphy’s. Add in self-reflection and self-deprecation and you have one heck of a great read.

Chicago Tribune

Bergen is a talented and graceful writer—something she first demonstrated in Knock Wood, which chronicled her Hollywood youth and coming of age as the daughter of famed comedian and ventriloquist Edgar Bergen. Her literary voice is enormously engaging, capable of infusing considerable wit and poignancy. . . . She has something real to say here, and one hopes that her journey will continue for many years to come—and that eventually she'll write about that too.

Carrie Fisher

Candy gives us a glimpse into the fascinating world of fame and shares with us the ordinary in the extraordinary.

The New York Times

"A surprisingly frank and even bawdy mélange of celebrity fairy tale, marriage confessional and accounting of the mundane."

The New York Times

"A surprisingly frank and even bawdy mélange of celebrity fairy tale, marriage confessional and accounting of the mundane."

Chicago Tribune

Bergen is a talented and graceful writer—something she first demonstrated in Knock Wood, which chronicled her Hollywood youth and coming of age as the daughter of famed comedian and ventriloquist Edgar Bergen. Her literary voice is enormously engaging, capable of infusing considerable wit and poignancy. . . . She has something real to say here, and one hopes that her journey will continue for many years to come—and that eventually she'll write about that too.

USA Today

"You'll fall for Bergen's A Fine Romance. . . . Her writing and storytelling are superb throughout. . . . With this memoir, we're all likely to be wishing Bergen herself—funny, insightful, self-deprecating, flawed (and not especially concerned about that), and slugging her way through her older years with bemused determination—was living next door.

Associated Press Staff

"A Fine Romance is full of heart. Even though Bergen is surrounded by celebrity friends at the turn of every page, it's evident she is about as down-to-earth as they come. There is an honesty in her writing that is both refreshing and encouraging.

Washington Post

Bergen is unflinchingly honest—about herself, her relationships, the imperfections of people in her life. . . . Bergen tells her story with humor, confidence and candor.

Library Journal - Audio

05/15/2015
Bergen reads her own work in this delightfully honest, open, and humorous memoir, a follow-up to her Knock Wood. The author bares her soul, revealing the merging of her personal and professional lives. Writing about her nontraditional marriage to French film Louis Malle, motherhood at age 39, early widowhood, and remarriage, Bergen presents glimpses of her work including a behind-the-scenes look at her hit television series Murphy Brown and nursing Malle through his final illness. The author excels at both writing and narrating. Her skill with timing and inflection makes for a fascinating, compelling audio experience. VERDICT Of interest to fans of the author and Murphy Brown, as well as anyone who enjoys contemporary memoirs. ["This is witty and poignant, touching upon the many phases and challenges of daily existence": LJ 2/1/15 review of the S. & S. hc.]—Laurie Selwyn, formerly with Grayson Cty. Law Lib., Sherman, TX

Library Journal

02/01/2015
Humor and honesty strike a fine balance in this absorbing follow-up memoir by actress/writer Bergen (Knock Wood). The book is more an investigation of human experience—marriage, motherhood, family, friendship, work, aging, and death—than a celebrity behind-the-scenes memoir. Bergen shares details of her marriage to brilliant film director Louis Malle, from their first meeting through his untimely death, and winningly describes becoming a mother at a later age than some. There are cherished everyday moments and major events here, from trick-or-treating adventures to facing Malle's final illness. She provides multidimensional and idiosyncratic portraits of Malle, their daughter Chloe and, much later, of her second husband, Marshall Rose. Of course, there are details about her work in film, on stage, and in the hit television series Murphy Brown, a show that earned Bergen five Emmys and drew much-publicized comments by Dan Quayle during the presidential campaign of 1992. Yet, this account is not focused on fame. It is Bergen's perceptive, wry, and often surprising take on life that will strike a resonant chord with readers on a down-to-earth, human level. VERDICT Witty and poignant and touching upon the many phases and challenges of daily existence, this book will appeal to a wide audience, especially those who are familiar with Bergen's work. For circulating libraries and entertainment collections. [See Prepub Alert, 10/20/14.]—Carol J. Binkowski, Bloomfield, NJ

MARCH 2015 - AudioFile

The best reason to listen to Candice Bergen’s second memoir is to meet a bright and talented woman who has lived a remarkable life, mostly in the public eye. The well-written and affecting book covers the years of her marriage to French film director Louis Malle; their daughter’s birth; the balancing of their respective careers, including Bergen’s television hit, “Murphy Brown”; and Malle’s death. The actress offers a careful, somewhat stilted reading. It’s not bad exactly, but the metronomic pacing and flat tone are not as affecting as her writing, which is genuinely involving. Despite this, Bergen’s many fans will find much to enjoy. A.C.S. © AudioFile 2015, Portland, Maine

Kirkus Reviews

2014-12-17
Award-winning actress Bergen continues the story begun in the best-selling memoir, Knock Wood (1984). This second installment of the author's autobiography focuses on the three great loves of her life: her two husbands and her daughter. When she met her first husband, French director Louis Malle (1932-1995), "[s]parks decidedly did not fly." Less than a year after their first awkward introduction, however, the two were married. The showbiz woman who "dealt strictly in commerce" was soon immersed in a world of elegance and high art alongside a dynamic man she affectionately calls a "cultural commando." During the early years of her marriage, Bergen struggled with ambivalence over whether or not to have a family. At age 39, she gave birth to a daughter, Chloe, who would in time become even closer to Bergen than the globe-trotting Malle. Her stalled acting career took off shortly afterward when she was chosen to play the lead in the iconic TV series Murphy Brown. By the early 1990s, the show would inspire a "family values" controversy for its fearless portrayal of a hard-driving career woman who becomes an unwed mother. Bergen admits that the success strained relations with her husband. At the same time, it also helped her to carve out her professional identity as a comedian while giving her the "weight" and "self-definition" she needed to define the boundaries of home and family. Her golden life ground to a temporary halt when Malle was diagnosed with a rare and fatal brain disease. Within three years of his death, however, Bergen met her next husband, billionaire New York real estate developer Marshall Rose. More settled than the peripatetic Malle, Rose not only offered the actress entree among the New York City social elite, he also brought her the next great challenge of her life: learning how to appreciate a life genuinely lived in tandem.A glamorously bittersweet showbiz memoir.

Product Details

BN ID: 2940170740598
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Publication date: 04/07/2015
Edition description: Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

A Fine Romance


It was midway through October 1985, as I waddled in a huge plaid tent dress through the ground floor of Bergdorf’s. I’d put on almost fifty pounds since becoming pregnant. A woman kept peering at me, looking away, looking back. Finally she approached. “You know, you have Candice Bergen’s face.”

“But not her body,” I said.

Old friends saw me lurching along the street and burst out laughing. I scowled back. Would this baby be born in a hospital or at SeaWorld?

The due date was the second half of October. I’d been hoping she’d arrive on Halloween, which was the day after my husband Louis Malle’s birthday. As the date grew closer, then passed, I went in for a checkup. Whoever was in there, she was hyperactive, that much was sure. She somersaulted and flipped around. Then she landed wrong. Her feet were tangled in the umbilical cord and she was upside down and feet first. There was a high risk of her cutting off the supply of oxygen and nutrients. A risk of brain damage.

My obstetrician, the ironically named Dr. Cherry, was an affable, easygoing guy, but he grew concerned after the recent sonogram. “We need to think about scheduling a Cesarean,” he told me. Meanwhile, I was to go home and stay in bed with my feet up. No activity. That would be interesting, as Louis and I lived in a two-story loft and were having people for dinner that night.

That was the beginning of the real bonding. Until that point, I’d kept a bit of distance, thinking of the baby as a kind of invader in my comfortable routines. I’d dragged my feet about preparing her room. No longer. It was ready, wallpapered in tiny pink rosebuds. I’d bought a white rocker and a white crib with pink ticking on the mattress and bumpers and found a pink Kit-Cat clock whose eyes and tail moved rhythmically back and forth.

Now the Alien was in jeopardy. I could not lose her.

Louis and I had been invited to a state dinner at the White House in honor of Prince Charles and Princess Diana. It was the big wingding of the fall, and the royal couple was causing quite the stir. It was possible we could make it if the baby was prompt. The dinner was November 6. I figured we could take the train with the newborn and a baby nurse and stay in DC for a night. I would look like a blimp, but we could attend.

As the date inched closer and there was no sign of a baby, I called Nancy Reagan, who has been a family friend all my life, and apologized for the delayed response. “Mrs. Reagan, she’s not moving,” I told her. She couldn’t have been sweeter. “Well, they’d love you to be there, Candy. Let us know when you can. Of course we understand.”

What I didn’t understand was where this baby was. What was keeping her?

At almost two and a half weeks past the due date, Dr. Cherry told me he’d decided to extract the baby by cesarean in three days; he was afraid she might have “exhausted prepartal nutrients.” Apparently my amniotic fluid was drying up. She was running out of snacks.

The Kit-Cat clock was ticking. I was not in the market for abdominal surgery. I wanted to have this baby naturally. More or less. I did the few primitive things that were suggested to induce labor. Three of my closest girlfriends took me out to dinner and I ate the spiciest things on the menu, hoping to bring on contractions. Sweat streamed down my tiny head and pooled under my newly enlarged breasts. Nothing. I heaved my 180 pounds sixteen floors up to my apartment to see if that would get her moving. Zilch. Louis was giving me a wide berth; I was getting testy.

Louis and I went to Mount Sinai Hospital the next day, November 8, 1985. The surgery was scheduled for 3:00 p.m. We were shown to a pre-op room and I undressed and got into a gown. They gave me oxytocin as a last gasp to start contractions. No dice. The baby was dug in. Dr. Cherry came in with the anesthesiologist and introduced him. He had clammy hands and a mustache that screamed “Shave me!” This was not a guy who seemed cool under pressure. He recognized me and appeared nervous. This was the guy who was going to give me the dreaded epidural? Women had been warning me about this shot, which is given in the base of the spine and is generally successful at blocking pain, except when it results in paralysis. The anesthesiologist told me to curl into the fetal position, which I did, but I was babbling incessantly, compulsively. I am not a good patient. The anesthesiologist also seemed stressed. He mentioned a movie I was in. I was freezing and shivering and the needle looked like a harpoon. Finally, he managed to give me the epidural, and I was wheeled down the battleship gray hall into the operating room. Louis walked beside me in his gown.

The nurses erected a discreet sheet to screen any activity below the waist. Louis sat by my head. They started to swab me but I could feel it, and then I really panicked. The upside of the epidural was, I wasn’t paralyzed. The downside was, I wasn’t numb. Hey, guys, I’m not numb! I CAN FEEL EVERYTHING! This was a definite crick in the procedure. “Give her a shot of Valium and administer another spinal,” someone said. I resumed the fetal position. The anesthesiologist came at me with another harpoon. I wondered, Is this really the best guy you got here?!? Things got blurry; then I got a third epidural. Enough medication for a rhino, which in a sense I had become. I was groggy beyond belief, but I could still feel a prickling in my legs. I might have heard the word paresthesia. Was I going to feel it when the surgeon cut through my abdomen? Because I would not be okay with that. I was stoned and ranting and raging.

“Do you feel this?” Dr. Cherry asked as he jabbed a pin in my leg. And then . . . murmuring, movement, a team at work. Louis watched it as the director he was. The curtain set up. People beyond it performing together.

And suddenly a cry. A really loud cry. That would be my daughter crying. Bellowing. All nine pounds two ounces of her had been pried out of my ample abdomen, where she’d made a home—carpet, armchair, reading lamp, sound system—she was not happy about moving out. Now the trouble begins, I thought. Schools. Mean girls. Boyfriends. SATs. Now it hits the fan.

Mademoiselle Chloe Malle. I heard Louis singing softly to her in French: “À la claire fontaine . . .” She’d been wrapped like a burrito and he held her gently in his arms, crooning. She relaxed and quieted, scrutinizing him. I was sobbing. So much emotion. So many drugs.

She was placed in my arms now, cautiously, since I was so medicated that I was completely gaga. As if I would let anything happen. Again, the tears streamed down my cheeks. My baby girl. My baby girl. Who knew love was this huge? All-enveloping. All-encompassing. My baby girl.

My God, I can’t believe I almost didn’t do this. It was clearly the beginning of my life.

In the recovery room upstairs, Chloe was brought back to me, steamed and cleaned, fierce and irresistible.

Ali MacGraw and Anne Sterling, two of my closest friends, had been waiting in the hospital lobby. They came up to meet Chloe and give me a pat on the head. I was having trouble speaking clearly, what with my dozens of epidurals, plus I was still weeping. But I was aglow.

Chloe is here. Chloe is here. I was happier than I ever thought possible. Chloe is here.

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