Julie and Julia: take two
(Yes, I'm rewriting. The truth as I see it is that the book is too good to have its review extinguished by the nasty, ol' MS. And I apologize for yesterday's anger and profanity. I was TICKED. Now, back to the review.)
I really liked Julie Powell's
Julie and Julia—even if I didn't expect to do so. The thing is that after I'd seen previews and decided the movie
Julie and Julia was one I HAD to see, I was in Barnes and Noble and came across the book, which I bought. Then I saw the movie and decided the book was going to be terrible. Why? Mainly because it was based on a blog. Now, books based on blogs may be a wave of the future, but I wasn't ready. Of course, regardless of my state of my mental preparedness, the book kept steadily making its way across my shelf of un-reads. Then it made it to spot one, so I read it. And liked it. Again, why? Reasons follow.
Specifics:
1) I wasn't far into the book before I began liking the author. At this point she's explaining why when she was a child, she never searched for Christmas presents. "… I didn't want to find anything that would prove for once and for all that Santa didn't really exist. I pretty much knew that, but I didn't want to admit it, because what would Christmas be without Santa?" (page 36) I identified with that. Boy, did I identify. When I was around ten, my parents had to resort to trickery to make me stop believing in Santa. Even then, they did it wrong and I refused to stop believing.
2) Here the author is describing the result of her first attempt at eggs in aspic, which started with bone marrow so she could make her own gelatin.
I suspect the aspic was not quite so solid as it should have been, for it … puddled on our plates with almost indecent eagerness—like silk lingerie, if silk lingerie was repulsive. When the (cold, runny) poached eggs were cut, their innards inundated the aspic remains. The resulting scene of carnage was not, let us say, that which Gourmet covers are made of.
Also, it tasted slightly of hoof." (pages 142-143)
I do like people who don't take what they're doing all that seriously.
3) "December descended." I like that. It's alliterative. And December does descend. It's a busy month with tons of things to be done—by those, at least, who indulge in such things.
4) Julie Powell's day job all during the time she was cooking her way through
The Art of French Cooking was working for a government agency. She leaves it unidentified but the implication is that it was connected with the 9-11 memorial. One day she receives a call from a woman who turns out to run an S&M dungeon in lower Manhattan. The conversation is a) funny. The woman asks, "'Can I be honest with you?' … (Julie) was intrigued: Can I be honest with you? (italics hers) is not a question you get asked a lot when you work for a government agency." (page 186) At least it amused me.
5) The same conversation is also b) functional to the story. On the next page after the woman describes the desires of one client, Julie says, "She erupted in laughter, and I felt a pang of envy. It's not that I think clog dancing naked for financial analysts is really my bag. But I can't imagine loving my job. I never have." (page 187) And so she's set to "go for it" when the idea of working her way through the recipes in
The Art of French Cooking presents itself.
6) "Everyone knows there are foods that are sexy to eat. What they don't talk about so much is foods that are sexy to make." (page 251) Don't know if I can go along with that—and I've cooked many of Julia Child's recipes. Anyone out there, have you ever found a food that was "sexy to make"?
7) by the end of the book, I still liked Julie Powell, and that's saying something because I came across many things about her to dislike. The following illustrates why I kept going back to like her regardless of what I disliked. Here,Julie is talking about Julia's death. "… there is no tragedy in such a peaceful death, after such a long and rich and generous life. It's the death that all of us wish for—well, either that or finding out you have a terminal brain tumor and going out and assassinating some plutocratic m-fer who's systematically destroying America's democracy brick by brick, before you get shot down in a rain of glory. Or maybe that's just me." (page 353) Cool, huh?
I have to end with the expected question: so which is better, the book or the movie? IMHO, since the movie 1) softens Julie up a bit so she's more likeable and 2) has Meryl Streep in the cast, I'll vote for the movie. But the book's good, too.
