I’ve never read one more entertaining (and more revealing) than Mary Rodgers’s Shy. Her voice careens between intimate, sardonic, confessional, comic. The book is pure pleasure — except when it’s jaw-droppingly shocking.

... delectable.

Rodgers was known for her sharp wit, and Green seems to have pulled very few of her verbal punches. The account of her relationship with Sondheim is so wincingly intimate in some details that you have to wonder if Green (or the publisher) thought it would be better to wait until Sondheim was no longer around to read it, a suspicion reinforced by the fact that “Shy” is being published eight years after Rodgers’s death and less than nine months after Sondheim’s.

The final text, in which Mary’s bold, brash voice contrasts with Mr. Green’s more measured comments, reads like a conversation between the two of them, albeit one in which Mary dominates, and rightly so.

The unconventional dual-voices format makes Shy something of a challenge to navigate. It’s difficult to go wrong with a story as compelling as Rodgers’: a smart, opinionated woman forging her way in a world constrained by rigid gender roles while bearing the psychological damage from a childhood in which she felt inferior to her younger sister, and in which her mother told her, 'We love you, but we don’t like you.' Rodgers’ narrative encompasses everything from sadness and tragedy to exultant moments of exhilarating joy. But Green’s and Rodgers’ simultaneous voices sometimes come across as competitive rather than complementary. At times, the reader may feel like they are seated between two brash, outspoken people, both talking loudly at the same time and trying to outdo the other in wit and sharpness.

Delightful...delicious.

... brazenly entertaining.

[Rodgers'] whole life is on dazzling display.

These kinds of famous names are strewn throughout this memoir, and that’s part of what makes it so fascinating, turning Rodgers into a privileged Broadway Zelig, who knew everyone (and their secrets) and isn’t afraid to spill them. Rodgers’ voice comes vividly alive here, even though she died in 2014. Apparently, it took coauthor and theater critic Green lots of time to cull years of his interviews with Rodgers and to annotate each page with copious, ­often-amusing notes, and the result is a candid, hilarious, and fascinating look at a life lived with honesty and only the occasional regret. Whether Rodgers is recounting her lifelong love for childhood friend Sondheim or describing her perpetually fraught dance with her parents, this will have readers applauding loudly..

Green’s extensive footnotes provide background and context, and gently rein in Rodger’s occasionally cloudy recollections or inaccuracies. Along with gossipy stories and acerbic zingers, Rodgers explores being a woman, a single mom and Jewish in a time when those traits signaled outsider and usually held a person back. She shares both successes and low points. She admits her own mistakes and points out the shortcomings of others along the way.

Rodgers moved in theater circles nearly her entire life (1931-2014). Her remembrances are lively, witty, honest, and 'dishy' regarding a host of boldfaced names, both those she loved and those she hated. New York Times chief theater critic Green's annotations fill out the history and offer helpful fact-checks.

... rollicking.