The stories and experiences in Spare often read as second-hand narrations rather than authentic recollections, and it’s hard not to sense the heavy hand of J. R. Moehringer behind the prose. Much of it feels detached as if the author is recounting someone else’s life rather than his own.
What comes through instead is the voice of a privileged man reflecting on a life of missteps, yet offering little genuine insight or growth. Many of his explanations for personal failings border on self-justification, and at times, even feel unintentionally comical.
The book appears to be less a memoir of reflection and more a public relations exercise an attempt to reshape a tarnished image and reclaim some measure of public sympathy. It’s difficult to overlook the sense that this is a final effort to remain relevant, to preserve a fading royal identity, and perhaps, to keep the spotlight burning just a little longer.