I thoroughly enjoyed Paul Solotaroff's memoir, The Body Shop, and found it hard to put down. Solotaroff was not afraid to explore painful memories concerning both his family, and the time he spent caught up in the world of coke, steroids and stripping - experienced simultaneously with the life of a dedicated and hardworking college student. Even during the moments that recall the nightmarish reality of what his body, mind and spirit endured, he does not overlook the excitement and appreciation of the rewards that his new physique brought to him -- as he went from a "98 pound weakling" to looking more like his idol, Charles Atlas. Humor is intertwined with the grittiness, and the book's tone is not at all one of self-pity or bitterness.Previous reviews characterized the author's writing style as pretentious and wordy; but I totally disagree. Solotaroff's wittiness, comfort and expertise with the English language made the book so much more enjoyable for me than simply a minimalist recollection of one's youth, devoid of the love of language and the unique personality of one who was able to lead such a double life. The memories unfold vividly and with a lot of sincerity; and at times with wackiness and surrealism. I really appreciate the opportunity to get such a close glimpse at the author's unique world!