Kidnapped: A Life Unbound by Michael Reif is a pretty extraordinary account of a life lived far beyond the ordinary. I’d like to begin by thanking the author for providing us with an advance copy of this as-yet unpublished book. This is a memoir in the truest sense, raw and not sugarcoating anything, and it spans a wide range of experiences and places that will probably make you question why your life is so boring, from New Jersey to South America and far beyond. The book, which as far as I’m aware is all true, delves into topics such as drug culture, kidnapping, LSD-fuelled counterculture and the music and social upheaval of the 1960s and ’70s.
At its core, the memoir charts Reif’s life journey and adventures across decades of personal and cultural change in the late twentieth century. It opens dramatically with the revelation, “In 1989, I was kidnapped in Colombia by Pablo Escobar. It was traumatic, of course.” From there, the book rewinds, tracing the path that led to that moment. We follow Reif through his youth in America, his experiences with the counterculture, his travels across Europe, including studies in Copenhagen, and his gradual drift into increasingly dangerous territory with drugs. The kidnapping itself, while gripping and intense and probably the axis of the book, is ultimately only one aspect of a much broader life story. As Reif later reflects, “the kidnapping was… only a trivial part of these lingering, memorable years.”
The writing is consistently engaging and oft beautifully reflective and unfiltered. Reif brings us directly into his mindset: his motivations, his justifications and his often questionable decisions. You may not agree with his actions, especially his rampant drug use, but you will get to understand the author on a deep level, and more importantly, you will want to keep reading this layered memoir, which the author has apparently written, “for his progeny”.
What makes the memoir particularly interesting is its rich, anecdotal texture. Reif excels at placing the reader inside specific historical moments. His time working on the New Jersey Turnpike, or the flow of hippies heading to Woodstock and the tension with police, and his own place in history in all of this. Elsewhere, his LSD experiences and guiding others through trips are interesting to read, especially for someone completely inexperienced with drugs, sitting beneath a tree as “understandings and realizations… cascade through [his] acid-soaked brain”.
The most gripping sections of the book are undoubtedly those dealing with the drug smuggling and, obviously, the kidnapping. It is never easy to write about traumatic events, but Reif manages to capture the intensity of the event and the trauma it left behind very well. He places the reader directly inside these moments, from smuggling illegal substances to the sudden ambush in Medellín, where armed men blocked his car, opened fire, and forced him at gunpoint into a vehicle before blindfolding and holding him captive:
Several men spilled from the SUV… The attackers in front began shooting… I looked out my side, eye-level with the menacing barrel of well-worn military .45.
It is difficult to offer criticism for a memoir, especially one as thoughtfully put together as this one, likely not written for commercial reasons. For some people, debatably certain sections could have been cut or edited down. Some of the Copenhagen portions, for instance, are less gripping than the high-stakes chapters involving drugs or the kidnapping itself. At 424 pages, it’s a beefy book. The author is clearly a well-read person, and the highbrow words as well as some intense scenes may be too much for certain readers. However, even in the slower moments, the writing remains readable and engaging, and there’s always something interesting going on with Michael and his friends.
One of the memoir’s greatest strengths is its honesty. The author doesn’t attempt to sanitise his past or present himself as a hero, and he shows a strong capacity for introspection, framing his life as a series of incremental decisions rather than a grand, deliberate plan. Reif’s reflections on the historical era add further depth, making this an interesting read for anyone interested in the historical periods mentioned.
I don’t think you can give spoilers for a memoir, so I can say the epilogue brings the memoir into the present, reflecting on the long-term impact of the author’s experiences, particularly the kidnapping and its psychological aftermath. The author briefly reflects on his later career, his marriages and mentions signs of post-traumatic stress upon returning home. Nonetheless, the memoir concludes on an optimistic note:
I have finally grown up, as much as I ever will. I am contented, especially when hiking the hills or tipping a tequila with my wife and close friends. After all the years and all the miles, I endeavor to live in the moment and always with utmost gratitude.
Overall, this is not an easy book to recommend for a specific target audience, but it’s definitely a very worthwhile life story. It’s the memoir of someone who may not be widely known, yet in some sense that anonymity is part of what makes it compelling. It feels unfiltered and authentic in a way that celebrity memoirs may not. I think it would particularly appeal to readers interested in the counterculture of the 1960s and ’70s, drug culture and real-life crime and kidnapping stories.
Final verdict: For fans of Jon Krakauer or Paul Theroux, this is a raw, unflinching and frequently gripping memoir that charts a perilous journey to the brutal realities of the drug underworld. “A life unbound” indeed.
