I can't say I loved this--and I wanted and expected to. People whose judgement I respect adored it, and when I was a teen I devoured science books, and here are the memoirs of a Nobel-prize winning physicist who hobnobbed with Einstein and Planck and worked on the Manhattan Project! And the book is supposed to be funny and witty! Well, maybe the first clue as to why this wasn't for me was on the title page--this is described as being "as told to Ralph Leighton." It's not so much a memoir as a series a anecdotes told Leighton by Feynman over the course of the years. I found it rambling and filled with--well, not that interesting stories such as his ingenious way of cutting string beans--which once got his fingers cut. Then there's his tale of picking up girls "And You Just Ask Them?" where he talks of woman as "bitches" and "whores" for, as he sees it, them having an implicit enticement of sex in return for drinks, then calls one woman "worse than a whore" for not having sex with him for buying her a sandwich. And yeah, that anecdote was hard for me to swallow and move on from. It was more the rambling nature that was wearing me down by page 50 though--so I then turned to the index and saw if there might be anything of interest--I looked up anything on Einstein, for instance, who Feynman had met. I came across the chapter "Is Electricity Fire?" and did find myself amused by the way Feynman cut the intelligentsia on this panel he was on down to size. I then went back to where I had been reading and continued--until I hit the pick up chapter. It might not have been a deal breaker had I been having more fun. Feynman has his moments of slicing/dicing naive common sense and flashes of brilliance, but I felt this book desperately needed an editor who would have done some common sense slicing and dicing on this book. I'm afraid I just wasn't charmed as so many have been.