Harvey Fierstein was born, not made. Becoming a playwright and theatrical grandee took time. But as his scrumptious new memoir, "I Was Better Last Night," reveals, it was only a matter of time before this chubby Brooklyn boy with an itch for drag commandeered a stage.
Much of the book chronicles the period after "Torch Song Trilogy," Fierstein's groundbreaking gay play, transformed him into a Tony-winning writer and star. He delivers plenty of dish, some of which leaves a bitter aftertaste. But his writing is most alive in the early years, before he becomes a Broadway institution.
A natural storyteller with a yenta's love of mischief, Fierstein paints a vivid portrait of his youth in Bensonhurst, the neighborhood made famous by "The Honeymooners" and "Saturday Night Fever." Raised in a small, three-bedroom, semi-attached house in a Jewish enclave, he was ever-mindful of the rabbi who passed the family's "front door at least six times a day."
