I love to read. I am one of those people who will get completely lost in a book for hours, even if it's something I have read before. Old books are like puffy comforters you can wrap yourself in. My favorite book would probably have to be "The Lord of the Rings." I realize that it is a trilogy but, I actually have it in one big book so there.
Anyway, about 5 years ago, I got involved in a bookclub. I mentioned it in an earlier post. This bookclub was about the serious books, the thinking books, ones that could possibly change your life. Some have done just that (Never Let Me Go). Some have been kinda, "eh" (Run Rabbit Run). I just finished the first book that tore me completely in two. It's called "What Remains" by Carole Radizwill. It is a memoir of her life but most of it comes from the time she was married to Anthony Radizwill, cousin to JFK, Jr. Carole also became good friends with Carolyn, John's wife. The book has wonderful qualities to it. The stories are wonderful, the time she describes as child is so vibrant to read. It's when we get into the part about knowing and marrying Anthony and moving into that whole social circle that drops me cold. Through this part of the book, her husband is battling cancer. Even with the love they have, and it does come through on the pages, she still comes off as a name dropper. She also scolds people she refers to as "tragedy whores" who were deeply upset with the deaths of John and Carolyn, were shown on TV etc, crying in front of their apartment. She sees it all as fake and thinks people that ask and talk about "Where were you when the plane went down?" as part of that category. She speaks in the story as if she has a lock on all the grief that was available, that no one else was allowed to be upset about their deaths. It made me angry that she made a big deal about knowing where she was when the Challenger blew up and made her want to be come a journalist but those who might have the same feelings about the Kennedys were somehow below her. After I made this realization, although I cried at the end of the book, I really came to dislike the author. I even looked up other things she wrote and interviews she did because I was really hoping that my initial reaction was wrong, but it wasn't. Every interview, every story about what she wrote, was exactly the same. All the same phrases used, all the same facial expressions. It was like a play.
The only reason I am writing about this today is because I could not get it out of my head so that I could write anything else. I felt like I had to get it out and my bookclub does not meet for another week. Unless I got this out, I would be writing boring posts for the rest of the week. I can't have that now can I?
If you do know this author and hate what I have said, feel free to tell me. It's just my opinion and I am totally willing to say it might be wrong seeing as I don't know her personally. It just really grabbed me the wrong way. I've read other memoirs about famous people that did not come across this way. If this was the only one I had read, I probably would not have felt this strongly.
BTW, I have "Goodreads" as a widget at the bottom of the page if you want to see what else I like to read. It's a great site if your a book freak.