Sorry, but this was just boring.
Not blaming Rickman though. These were his private diaries, and most likely weren’t written with the intention of being published.

I have always loved Alan Rickman's performances (and I have not even seen him in Harry Potter). So perhaps I was predisposed to love the diaries. But they left me pondering big questions for days, such as how do we measure a life, either someone else's or our own? Is it just series of mundane events punctuated by moments of excitement or grief? Or is there meaning in the mundane, the routine, the everyday (yes, it's obviously the latter).

The diaries have a certain cadence to them, and it took me a little while to fall into that cadence along with the narrator. They start when Alan is in his late 40s/early 50s and continue until his death at age 69 from pancreatic cancer in January 2016. I found myself enjoying what we would consider humdrum, such as his struggle dealing with paper clutter, trying to find a plumber on a Sunday, navigating the US healthcare system, shopping the sales at Harrods, buying a refrigerator, etc. (celebrities--they're just like us! They shop at Bed, Bath & Beyond!).

He makes very witty comments, especially about film/TV. "There is a program called Extreme Couponing that is the end of civilization." Jurassic Park: "What the hell is the plot?" The American President: "A movie about nothing." Sense & Sensibility: They cut out most of the scenes with the male characters' development to focus on just the women: "We should care who they are marrying." (He plays Col. Brandon)

But his diaries also contain some very passionate thoughts, most often when describing his craft. His biggest criticisms of plays or films is that the actors (or director) don't know what they are trying to convey. He searched for meaning and understanding in every performance and expected it of himself as well.

As the diary began the year 2015, I found myself becoming more anxious, as I knew this was the last year of Alan's life. Cancer is such a thief. He had 6 months between diagnosis and death. The book contains a beautiful afterword by his wife (and a forward by Emma Thompson), and if you listen to the audio version you get to hear an excerpt of an interview with Alan and enjoy hearing his silky voice, for at least a few minutes.

There were certainly some interesting and touching things content-wise, but the format did not do it for me- granted I had misaligned expectations as I didn’t realize how unedited it was but I almost stopped reading several times feeling like there was no way these were supposed to be published in such a raw state- even if Rickman did want to publish them in some form. The foreword and afterward did help reassure and contextualized a bit but ugh…. I still have mixed feelings on having read it at all.
That being said- the deeply painful and relatable struggles with perfectionism and “why do I keep doing this when I know I shouldn’t” will stick with me. And endlessly fascinated by how skeptical he was about agreeing to play Snape/how deeply relieved he was to read the final book.

Only 4 stars as this wasn't life changing. But reading someone's journals rarely is. I learned a lot about Rickman that I didn't know, including his activism and the political stances he supported. What a truly amazing person.

I love him so much, but this was literally his diaries published posthumously. While he can recount the daily minutiae of his live in a succinct and witty way, it was still too much detail and too less at the same time. I did find myself chuckling out loud at some of his descriptions, but mostly I found myself listening to it at 1.75 speed to get on with it.