Audiobook Sample
Listen to the sample to experience the story.
Please wait while we verify your browser...
- Title: Becoming
- Author: Michelle Obama
- Narrator: Michelle Obama
- Length: 19:04:38
- Version: Abridged
- Release Date: 13/11/2018
- Publisher: Random House (Audio)
- Genre: Biography & Memoir, Memoir, Women
- ISBN13: 9.78E+12
Hey there, fellow wanderers and story seekers,
Picture this: I’m cruising down a dusty road in northern New Mexico, the kind of stretch where the horizon shimmers and the sky feels close enough to touch. The sun’s dipping low, painting the desert in hues of burnt orange and lavender, and I’ve got *Becoming* by Michelle Obama humming through my car speakers—her voice, warm as a hearth fire, filling the cab. It’s not just an audiobook experience; it’s a companion for the road, a storyteller perched in the passenger seat, unraveling her life like a map I didn’t know I needed.
I first stumbled into Michelle Obama’s world not through the White House or news clips, but here, in this intimate narration of *Becoming*, a memoir that’s as much about finding yourself as it is about the milestones that mark the way. Published by Random House Audio, this isn’t some abridged CliffsNotes version—it’s the full 19-hour sprawl, every moment delivered in Michelle’s own voice. And let me tell you, there’s something about hearing her tell it herself that turns the listening experience into a conversation across time and space.
It reminds me of a time when I was camped out in the Atacama Desert in Chile, the driest place on Earth, listening to *One Hundred Years of Solitude*. Gabriel García Márquez’s magical realism danced with the surreal landscape outside my window, and the narrator’s voice—rich, weathered, alive—felt like it was conjuring the story from the sand itself. Michelle Obama does something similar in *Becoming*. Her narration isn’t just a reading; it’s a performance rooted in the South Side of Chicago, layered with the cadence of a woman who’s lived every word she’s speaking. You can almost feel the humidity of those summers, hear the chatter of her childhood block, taste the tension of balancing ambition with roots.
The book unfolds like a journey—starting with her early days in a cramped apartment, where a piano shared space with a kitchen table, and winding through Ivy League halls, corporate boardrooms, and eventually, the White House. It’s a memoir of transformation, but not the glossy kind that skips the messy bits. Michelle doesn’t shy away from the triumphs or the stumbles—her struggles with infertility, the weight of public scrutiny, the quiet victories of raising grounded kids in a fishbowl. She’s honest about the cost of becoming, how it’s less a destination and more a series of choices, each one peeling back another layer of who she thought she was.
What strikes me most is how she frames her story through the lens of community. Growing up, I spent a summer with a family in Oaxaca, and every night, their abuela would gather us around to spin tales—stories of love, loss, and resilience. Her voice had this gravity, a way of pausing that made you lean in. Michelle’s narration carries that same quality. When she talks about her father’s quiet strength or her mother’s no-nonsense wisdom, you’re not just hearing a memoir—you’re sitting at the table with her family, feeling the weight of their love and expectations.
As a travel writer, I’m drawn to stories that root you in a place, and *Becoming* does that effortlessly. The South Side isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a character—gritty, vibrant, unapologetic. Her years as First Lady, too, come alive with sensory detail: the chaos of state dinners, the smell of the Rose Garden, the surreal hum of history in every room. But it’s her reflections on womanhood—on defying the boxes society tries to shove you into—that hit me hardest. I’ve seen it in the women I’ve met on the road, from market vendors in Marrakech to poets in Bogotá, all carving space for themselves in a world that doesn’t always make room. Michelle’s voice, steady and unflinching, carries that same defiance, wrapped in warmth and wit.
Now, let’s talk about the audiobook itself. Michelle Obama as narrator is a revelation. There’s no stilted delivery or forced emotion here—she’s a natural. Her pacing is perfect, knowing when to linger on a memory or charge through a moment of frustration. The audio quality is crisp, every inflection preserved, making it feel like she’s right there with you. At 19 hours, it’s a commitment, but it’s the kind of listening experience that rewards your patience. I’d pop it on during long drives or late nights editing by a campfire, and it never felt like a slog—more like a friend catching you up over a glass of wine.
That said, it’s not flawless. The memoir’s scope is vast, and at times, it sprawls a bit too wide. Some sections—like her deep dive into policy initiatives—might feel dry if you’re not into the weeds of governance. And while her voice is a strength, there’s a polish to it that can feel a touch rehearsed, especially in the more vulnerable moments. I found myself craving a rawer edge, the kind of crackle I’d hear in that Oaxacan abuela’s voice when she hit a painful truth. But these are minor quibbles in a work that’s so deeply felt.
How does *Becoming* stack up? It’s not quite the philosophical gut-punch of a Stoic text or the irreverent wake-up call of Mark Manson’s *The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck*. It’s closer to something like *The Happiness Hypothesis* by Jonathan Haidt—rooted in personal narrative but reaching for universal wisdom. Yet Michelle’s lens, as a Black woman navigating spaces not built for her, sets it apart. It’s a memoir for anyone who’s ever felt the pull of becoming more than what’s expected of them.
Who’s this for? If you love biography and memoir, especially stories of women breaking molds, this is your jam. It’s perfect for long commutes, quiet evenings, or—if you’re like me—road trips where the miles beg for a good tale. And if you can snag it as a free audiobook through a library app or promotion, even better—it’s a steal for the richness it delivers.
Listening to *Becoming* left me reflective, the way a good story always does. It took me back to those Oaxacan nights, to the Atacama’s endless dunes, to every place I’ve been where someone’s voice made the world feel smaller, more connected. Michelle Obama doesn’t just tell her story—she invites you into it, asking you to reckon with your own becoming. And out here on the open road, with her words echoing in my ears, that’s a journey worth taking.
Until the next story finds us, happy trails and happy listening,
Marcus Rivera
Marcus Rivera
