The one key advantage to Tony Curtis's breezy memoir "The Making of Some Like It Hot" is that you can read in about as much time as it takes to watch the movie. Curtis and his ghostwriter, Mark A. Vieira, aren't particularly introspective and are given to using sub-Hemingway declamatory phrasings such as: "I've got a rich memory bank. It's bursting with treasures. Almost anything can open it up. A sound, a song, a scent, and memories come pouring out." (29) Maybe, but if so, Curtis's memories are only occasionally revealing. The book's focus rests on squarely on Marilyn Monroe: the two of them had a brief relationship, in 1950, before they both became famous, and, on the set of "Some Like It Hot," they briefly resumed it. Yet, Curtis's account only re-affirms what we have known about Monroe for decades - her erratic behavior, her lack of professionalism, and her emotional vulnerability. The book's biggest revelation is Curtis' claim to having fathered the child that Monroe miscarried in December 1958, while her marriage to Arthur Miller was unraveling.