In her latest forays into the American scene, Joan Didion covers ground from Washington to Los Angeles, from a TV producer's gargantuan "manor" to the racial battlefields of New York's criminal courts. At each stop she uncovers the mythic narratives that elude other observers: Didion tells us about the fantasies the media construct around crime victims and presidential candidates; she gives us new interpretations of the stories of Nancy Reagan and Patty Hearst; she charts America's rollercoaster ride through evanescent booms and hard times that won't go away. A bracing amalgam of skepticism and sympathy, After Henry is further proof of Joan Didion's infallible radar for the true spirit of our age.
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It'll blow a hole in your retina
- Darwin8u "I write for myself, for my own pleasure. And I want to be left alone to do it. - Salinger ^(;,;)^"
get this narrator a dictionary!
not sure...I'm normally an enthusiastic Joan Didion fan
Where to begin? She reads in a weird hushed tone as if reading a baby to sleep. Not well-suited to Didion's gritty style. If a reader is lucky enough to be hired to record a book, one would think s/he would look up all proper nouns and any words that are unfamiliar. Mispronounced words: Point Hueneme ("Port Wanamay"), centrifugal, seismological, realtor (really??? a two-syllable word is too difficult???), anecdote, ancillary, Eli Broad (rhymes with road, not odd), and on and on. Really no excuse.
Joan Didion should get more input as to who records her books. Maybe I would have enjoyed these essays more in print. I certainly love her other works.