Lisa Brennan-Jobs on growing up without, with, and in spite of her dad
Brigitte Lacombe
- “If I hadn’t gone back with a fine-toothed-comb, a lot of these assumptions I had would have just been the air I breathed into my future.”
- “There is something like theft in a memoir. If you want to write about yourself you have to write about other people who are unwitting and don’t want to be written about…”
The first computer I ever had was the first Apple Macintosh, back in the mid 80’s. I can still remember the sense of friendly reassurance from that smiling little icon that popped up on the screen when you turned it on—a cute, tiny computer smiling back at you. This device, it suggested, knew you. Understood you. Was someone you could trust.
Since then, we’ve come a long way, baby. The cold, black, addictive rectangle in my pocket—a gleaming window into all the hopes and terrors of the known world—is a far cry from the early, friendly promises of that smiling machine on which I could magically paint things at the touch of a button.
My guest today, in a very different way, grew up in the long shadow of that same cultural trajectory. Steve Jobs, the founder of Apple, was her dad. But like our relationship with the machines he helped unleash on the world, hers with him was deeply complicated. In her beautiful memoir Small Fry, Lisa Brennan-Jobs writes about his indifference, his attention, and her struggle to find herself in and outside of his shadow.
Surprise conversation starters in this episode: None, due to limited taping time.
