Tag Archives: Dorothy Parker

Book Buzz: Another Side of Paradise

June 1, 2018 8:41 am ,

Prepare to be immersed in the glitter and romance of 1930s Hollywood. Another Side of Paradise will sweep you off your feet as surely as F. Scott Fitzgerald did to Sheilah Graham, and like her, you will fall hopelessly, happily, in love.

Book Buzz: Another Side of Paradise

Another Side of Paradise

With panache as well as compassion, author Sally Koslow imagines the torrid, fractured love affair of famous author F. Scott Fitzgerald and legendary gossip columnist Sheilah Graham at a time when her star was rising and his was sputtering. Once lauded for his masterpiece The Great Gatsby written at the age of 23, Fitzgerald struggles to regain his inspiration and is resigned to writing screenplays in Hollywood to eke out a living. The novel takes place during the last three years of his life.

Graham recognized his genius and tries futilely to support and encourage him. Vacillating between spurts of creative productivity and drunken tirades, Fitzgerald despairs of finding the inspiration that had fueled his first success. Sadly, he never knew the fame that would come after his death, and the last years of his life were tortured with self-doubt and addiction to booze and pills.

A Jewish orphan from London who keeps her past a secret from almost everyone, Graham recreates herself as a glamor girl and hustling journalist determined to make it in Hollywood. She falls madly in love with Fitzgerald, a scandal at the time since he was still married to his wife Zelda who was institutionalized for mental illness.

As Fitzgerald’s alcoholism endangers both his life and Graham’s, they are nonetheless unable to stay apart, and take solace in the tender moments that underscore their deep love for each other.

Koslow’s writing is, in a word, masterful. The voice throughout Another Side of Paradise is pitch perfect, the dialogue unerringly true. Koslow delights the reader with so many gems, I had to linger to savor many of them. How fun for a reader to salivate over sentences like these:

The midday rain has stoped, but fog hovers like a secret over the city rendered in shades of charcoal as reserved as the populace.

My maiden baking effort is a fudge cake that lists at a rakish angle, with shaved coconut rained over the top to hide its patchy, crumb-flecked icing.

Sleep and I are still fighting the Hundred Years’ War, but the wee hours give me time to ruminate on my sins.

The name dropping, too, is immensely enjoyable. Graham snips about Louella Parsons and Hedda Hopper, her gossip writing rivals, and writes coyly that the studio is forcing young ingenue Judy Garland to lose a few pounds by subsisting on lettuce and soup. The couple’s friends include Dorothy Parker, John O’Hara, and Robert Benchley. Graham comments, “Oscar Levant bores me. Ogden Nash bores me. George S. Kauffman bores me. The truth is, none of them are half as interesting as they think they are. Even Dorothy bores me when she yammers on about her dogs.”

Reading Another Side of Paradise will not bore you. I give you my word.

 

I received a free copy of Another Side of Paradise from HarperCollins for an honest review,
which is the only kind of review I write.

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Book Buzz: West of Sunset

January 19, 2015 9:52 am ,

When I was in college, my family rented a house at the Jersey shore for the month of July. The house was stocked with the normal guest provisions: beach chairs, towels, suntan lotion. There was also an admirable collection of books lined up on the bookshelves in the living room.

Not your typical beach reads, however; they were mostly classics I hadn’t read, and I dug into them them as eagerly as did my toes in the sand.

I was particularly drawn to the works of F. Scott Fitzgerald, “Tender is the Night” and “The Great Gatsby.” My curiosity was piqued about Fitzgerald’s marriage to the daring, charismatic Zelda. Back home, I went to the library and found this biography that answered my questions about this golden couple and the unraveling of their marriage.

West of Sunset

This all came back to me as I read Stewart O’Nan’s new novel, “West of Sunset,” a fictional account of the final years of Fitzgerald’s life.

west of sunset

At age 37, Fitzgerald’s literary heyday was over. His stories were no loner being accepted at the best magazines. He was plagued by alcoholism. His wife was in a mental institution.

On the brink of personal and professional ruin, he moved to Hollywood and accepted a thankless job as a scriptwriter at MGM. He died at the age of 44.

The stunning heartbreak of F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald came back to me as I read this haunting novel. O’Nan skillfully recreates an era long gone, when celebrities led glamorous lives of parties and affairs, whose often troubled lives were obscured from the adoring public, when smokescreens easily masked harsh realities.

The sensory imagery is so precise in this book. I could hear the tinkle of ice cubes in a glass rimmed with red lipstick, the sultry laughter of a glamor girl on the arm of a handsome man, the splash in the swimming pool, the rings of cigarette smoke lingering in the air.

O’Nan weaves the glitterati into this story — sassy Dorothy Parker; Humphrey Bogart and his wife, Mayo Methot; Robert Benchley – as well as Hollywood columnist Sheilah Graham, with whom Fitzgerald has a torrid affair. The dialogue rings true with all.

Fitzgerald asks Bogie where he should take Sheilah on a date.

“You want to make yourself look good,” Bogie said, “take her to the Clover Club. It’s pricey, but the food’s swell and the band’s smooth …”

“West of Sunset” transported me to 1930s Hollywood as seamlessly as if I were watching an old black and white movie.

The publisher has provided this excellent readers guide which includes an intro, a Q&A with the author, discussion questions, and an interactive map of Fitzgerald’s 1930s Hollywood.

Poignant and tragic, “West of Sunset” has given me a deeper appreciation of this brilliant writer who died not knowing of his legacy as one of the greatest writers of all time.

Now that is sad.

On a happier note, one of my lucky readers will receive a copy of West of Sunset by leaving a comment. USA addresses only, please. A random winner will be selected.

I received a copy of West of Sunset from Viking/Penguin for an honest review. No compensation was received.

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Book Buzz: The House at the End of Hope Street

March 25, 2014 5:17 pm ,

Imagine a house at the end of an unobtrusive street, a house that is visible only to those who need it. A house that breathes and laughs, on whose walls hang shelves of thousands of books and portraits of famous women, paintings that come to life when conversation seems appropriate.

Picture a naive young woman who can’t seem to find her way through life’s bramble bushes, only to stumble upon this house of enchantment and healing.

Such is the setting for the whimsical “The House at the End of Hope Street,” by Menna Van Praag, a story that will surely win you over … as long as you leave reason behind.

House at the End of Hope Street

As is typical of novels of this genre – magical realism —  there is sensuality and sensory overload, dizzying aromas and flourishes of pageantry, an absence of real time, and ghosts that are a real part of the living world.

The protagonist, Alba Ashby, a Ph.D. student at Cambridge University, is struggling with a crisis that she is ill equipped to handle, and finds herself wandering aimlessly on the streets of Cambridge. Unwittingly, she lands on the doorstep of 11 Hope Street, where an older woman, Peggy, invites her in.

So begins a tale of self-discovery for Alba and two other visitors, Greer and Carmen, who are welcomed to stay in this house of refuge for 99 nights but no longer, and are assured that the house would give them what they needed to move on.

The women, each one experiencing a difficulty of some sort, find solace in the quiet comfort the house offers. Best of all, this is a feminist’s dream house, where conversations are sparked among a bevy of star-studded personalities whose portraits adorn the walls. Florence Nightingale and George Eliot, for example, are there, as are Vivien Leigh and Vanessa Bell and Agatha Christie. Sylvia Plath and Dorothy Parker chatter on as they offer writing advice to an attentive Alba:

“Not bad,” Dorothy says. “You have potential.”

“She’s overly critical,” Sylvia says. “You have a natural flair, but you need to be bolder. Your writing is too tentative, you care too much for the reader –“

If you are a fan of the works of Alice Hoffman, Yann Martel, Gabriel Garcia Marquez (whose “One Hundred Years of Solitude” remains my favorite book ever), Isabel Allende or any other writer of magical realism, or if you enjoy losing yourself in a great read, or if you are a romantic … you will fall in love with this inventive and charmingly written tale.

I am thrilled to be able to offer a copy of this book to one of my readers. Please leave a comment below, and one of the commenters will be chosen randomly.

Disclosure: I was provided a copy of The House at the End of Hope Street for review. There was no other compensation.

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I Mostly Hate Glasses

December 23, 2013 10:32 am ,
glasses

I hold Dorothy Parker at least partially responsible for my issues with glasses.

You remember Ms. Parker, right? Writer, critic, a fixture of the 1920s literary society and member of the famed Algonquin Round Table. A woman ahead of her time: bawdy and brilliant, caustic and charismatic, the life of the party. I always thought she was the cat’s meow. The bee’s knees.

She was quoted frequently for her witticisms, like these:

“If all the girls who attended the Yale prom were laid end to end, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised.”

“This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force.”

“She runs the gamut of emotions from A to B.”

But then there was this.

“Men seldom make passes
At girls who wear glasses.”

Well. When I got wind of this bon mot as an adolescent, I was not amused. It only cemented the insecurity I already felt about my looks. For in addition to everything else I perceived as a flaw, I had poor vision.

And when you were an adolescent girl in the 60s, at least if you were me, you obsessed about your looks and pretty much hated them and wondered if a man (someday) would want to make a pass at you.

I took this bon mot to heart.

My first pair of glasses–a shade of bubble gum pink with pointy tips—appeared in my life when I was about 11. They practically screamed doofus.

As my vision grew worse, the lenses got thicker and the frames uglier, and I was so unhappy with the way I looked that I tossed the glasses in my purse and endured the pitfalls and yes, pratfalls, of  life in a blurry world.

I admit it. I was vain.

That was then. Now? Although I still don’t love glasses, I have to admit they have attained extreme coolness.

With famous actresses sporting them with panache—with evening dresses! On the red carpet!—glasses, and the women who wear them, are fashionable, trendy and attractive.

Now that I am a woman in midlife, I need a little help with my close range vision, even while wearing contacts. Readers, they’re called, those cute little inexpensive glasses that perch right on your nose and make reading a whole lot clearer. They’re fun and cool. The ones I’m wearing in these photos are from www.readers.com and I love wearing them. When?

With these fun frames, my relationship with glasses has improved tremendously. I think I look kind of adorable in them. My husband thinks so, too.

So there, Dorothy Parker.

Disclosure: I received three pairs of glasses plus compensation from www.readers.com. All opinions expressed in this post are my own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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