Finished two books today:
Running With Scissors by Augusten Burroughs
Touted as David-Sedaris like, this autobiography was disappointing. The situations and characters were interesting, but the author’s approach lacked the teasing affection that pervades Sedaris’ handling of his characters, as well as the cohesion of emotion and understanding of a powerful autobiography. Burroughs withheld from taking the risks needed to fully explore his memories by way of absolute emotional confrontation and disclosure.
Shopgirl by Steve Martin
Steve Martin is a comic genius not just for his clever command of words, but for his mercurial intellect, powers of observation and his gentle, modest mode of communication. This book, about the relationship between a delicate artist working at a department store glove counter and a wealthy eternal-bachelor twice her age, delivered more truth about people, relationships, love, life and being in 130 pages than I’ve gotten from half a decade floundering in my 20s. The way we miscommunicate, the way we mistake our needs, the fact that we don’t always know what we want when we believe that we do…Martin has a way of nailing the essence of the mysteries of mating with his dead-on, incisive prose. I read this in a few days and was riveted by each and every sentence, laughing outloud countless times. The insight and observation are brilliant. I can’t do this book justice. Just read it.