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Now

Lauren Bacall. Alfred A. Knopf, $25 (214pp) ISBN 978-0-394-57412-7

It's been 15 years since Bacall wrote By Myself, a rich, if necessarily incomplete, autobiography that contained immensely touching accounts of the life of her husband, Humphrey Bogart, and of his painful death in 1957. In her new memoir, she makes it clear that she still judges people and life by Bogart's standards-high ones. Her narrative is fragmentary, almost breathless, but full of raw personality and almost clumsy directness. Two topics weave in and out of the staccato story: motherhood and acting. Bacall's accounts of her theatrical triumphs (Cactus Flower, Applause) and failures (Franklin Street, Good-bye Charlie) are more engaging than her reports of the deep concern she has for her three children (a son and daughter from her marriage with Bogart, and the youngest, the son of Jason Robards). She tends to share details only a mother needs to know. But her dedication to acting-and she means the stage, not the screen-is engrossing: ``Acting requires boldness,'' she tells us. ``Laying your life on the line eight times a week is not for the meek and mild.'' Bacall is certainly not meek. She is brave enough to present her life without excuses. Photos not seen by PW. 200,000 first printing; BOMC selection. (Oct.)