Ullman's reflections belong to the body of literature by women about the delicate and complex business of being at once an artist, mother, lover, thinker, creator of magic, and wiper-up of spills. By saying so much in so few words and with so great a respect for the privacy of other people, Ullman reminds us that it is possible for writers to explore their own lives in print without betraying the trust of friends and lovers.
As an artist and a woman, Ullman is most deeply concerned with the process of shedding roles defined by others and becoming what she calls "one's best or truest self." In her view, the real woman is not one who plays roles thrust upon her by others.
Although talented, beautiful, successful and rich, she struggles to achieve an equalibrium between her responsibilities to herself and her obligations to others and is like most women who have refused to settle for one role in life. Her inner turmoil is tempered by a sense of humor and the realization that she is more privileged than most.
She returns to the subject of maternal guilt again and again and the concept is usually translated from the Norwegian as "bad conscience."
"Changing" is filled with compassion for the ways in which both men and women have been limited by traditional views of masculinity and femininity. Her view of relations between the sexes belongs to a feminist ethos that insists the liberation of women will also free men; it is totally at variance with the wing of the feminist movement that suggests women cannot be free until they are free of men.
In a candid, honest, totally devoid of adornment way, Miss Ullmann tells how it was when she started out, how she met Ingmar Bergman, how precious her child is to her and how she found a sense of self as a woman, an artist and a human being.
Disarming and beautiful, it is one of the best autobiographies read in a long time.