Not As Messy As You'd Think: "In Praise of Messy Lives"

Book: In Praise of Messy Lives
Author: Katie Roiphe
Pages: 261
Copy: library copy
Read: mid-December
Spoilers: back to essays!

I requested this book from the library because I read a review that discussed how controversial Katie Roiphe is. I was excited--a woman essayist who starts fights! This is the woman for me! Naturally, her book was a complete disappointment.

Her writing style isn't that interesting. She may attack Joan Didion in a long essay, but her own style isn't so different. She uses some personal details, but never fleshes them out (she complains that Joan Didion's memoir is described as "'deeply and intensely personal,' and yet what is striking is how impersonal the book actually is." Roiphe's essays may be "deeply and intensely personal," but they're still strikingly impersonal). She has little in the way of style--I didn't linger over any of her sentences, the way I did with Joan Didion and even Anne Fadiman. Her writing style is academic and utilitarian. There is little color and no music in her sentences. This is the style of modern academic essays, but I expect more from personal essays--especially essays sold to the wider public.

Perhaps the most aggravating part of this collection of essays is the banality of Roiphe's insights. It is no compliment to myself when I say I could have made the same observations as Roiphe. She doesn't enlighten--she points out the obvious. There are few interesting criticisms and almost no intriguing social commentary. George Orwell could take a very basic and very boring part of culture and make astonishing claims about what those things said about society as a whole. Roiphe can't do that.

What intrigued me the most is the fact that Roiphe seems secretly conservative. She writes all about her unconventional family--she is raising two children on her own--and writes at great length about all the criticism she gets. But I never got the feeling that she actually accepts her situation. To me, it seems that she actually agrees with all the criticism. But there's also the sense that she loves to be a martyr. "Look at poor me, raising two fatherless children! Give me your pity and your criticism, because I deserve it!" In more capable hands, Roiphe's life story could have been striking. (I couldn't help but think that if Cheryl Strayed had written Roiphe's book, it would have been absolutely the most stunning book of the year. In Roiphe's hands, everything falls utterly flat.)

Only one essay from this collection has stayed with me. In "Making the Incest Scene," Roiphe writes about the way that incest has become the go-to "dark secret" of modern literature and how no one does it believably. While I think her criticism is spot on, I'm not sure incest is as pervasive as she imagines. Still, while I've thought about that essay once or twice since I read this collection, her analysis and observations in that essay are as superficial as all the other essays. The essay has no point but to point out incest. It goes no deeper.

I really can't figure out what is so controversial about Roiphe. Once or twice I caught myself frowning as I read her essays, but I never felt the need to rail against her. Her essay on Joan Didion bothered me a little, but I thought she made fair points. How does this woman start fights? Perhaps it is the way she writes about her family--I could see some "family values" readers becoming irate about that. Still, how she's earned a name as a "bad girl" eludes me. Orwell says more outrageous things, and he's been dead for almost 63 years. Roiphe is going to have to try a lot harder if she wants to make a lasting impression on American letters.

I don't hate this book, exactly, I'm just disappointed. Yet again another essayist has failed. Perhaps the essay form is just too out-of-date; it seems like no one knows how to do it right anymore. How can a collection this light and shallow cause any sort of controversy at all? Is it because a woman is expressing her opinions? I can only hope that isn't the only reason. Surely women are allowed to express their opinions without being labelled a "controversial writer." George Will writes his opinion all the time, and he's been called "the most powerful journalist in America."

This might be a good introduction to essays--I mean, Roiphe is readable, and shallowness of interpretation might help a person get use to reading cultural essays. Still, I'm not sure exactly who the target audience here is. Women? I hope not. Women deserve well-written essays too. I suppose I can only recommend this to people who want to stay abreast of pop literary culture. I really don't care what is written, it has to be written well. Roiphe needs to learn more about craftsmanship before she can become truly enduring.

--Benvolia

Lady Essayist: "Slouching Towards Bethlehem"

Book: Slouching Towards Bethlehem

Author: Joan Didion
Pages: 238
Copy: a friend’s
Read: June 30-July 4

Spoilers: this is non-fiction—can you really spoil non-fiction?

One evening, as my friends were otherwise celebrating, I had this book, open to the essay "On Self-Respect," thrust into my hands.  (The same friend had previously tried to explain Didion's point about putting a paper bag over one's head, but the exercise didn't really make sense until I actually read the essay.)  I was instantly enamored of Didion.  I read "On Self-Respect" twice before I was dragged back into the festivities.  Joan Didion has a fantastic writing style, rivaled only, I think, by George Orwell.  Her writing is crisp and direct, much like Orwell, and she has the most wonderful turns of phrase.  Some of her sentences read more like poetry than like journalistic prose.  (I think Orwell is slightly better because he can handle tangents so dexterously.  Didion doesn't venture into such territory often, and when she does she keeps it to a sentence or two.  Only Orwell could write 5-10 pages on some topic entirely unrelated to the main body of the essay and still make it important.)


I went into this book thinking I hadn't read any Didion before, but I realized when I read "Marrying Absurd" that I'd read at least one of her essays before.  Surprisingly, I can't for the life of me remember where I encountered this essay before, but I do remember reading it.  I will undoubtedly read more Didion, just as soon as I can get to the library.  Didion is one of those authors I can easily see myself reading every word of.  Her mastery of the essay-form is just too amazing to pass up.


While "On Self-Respect" is still my favorite of her essays, "On Keeping a Notebook" is also exceptional, as is her essay on the Central Valley, "Notes from a Native Daughter."  Some of her essays are uneven and many end surprisingly abruptly, but even her unexceptional essays contain beautiful sentences and perfect images.


Despite the fact this collection is uneven, I'd highly recommend reading it in order.  There's something about reading the pieces in near-chronological order that is simply amazing.  Her first essays are interesting and certainly contain the seeds of the genius that is to come—but they just aren't the same.  However, when they are read as early essays, their shortcomings aren't as visible.  While most collections of essays can be flipped through willy-nilly, this book rewards a straight-forward, linear read, at least the first time.


I also think that any aspiring woman writer, especially if she aspires to write essays, should buy this book and read it daily.  (I think any aspiring male writers should do the same, but female essayists are so few and far between that Didion will perhaps have a deeper impact on women.)  "On Self-Respect" should be read by every young person, especially those that are struggling with internal issues—shyness, loneliness, what have you.  Her points are true, even if they feel a little painful on the first reading.  By the second reading, her points will feel less like accusations and more like coded advice.


—Benvolia