More Words: This is like reading a stranger's notes on life. Yes, there are a lot of personal pronouns, there are some wittisisms, there a few life epiphanies, and there are brief references to personal tradgedy. Only the interesting stuff (errr, the stories) are short and vague, ultimately it's still written by a stranger. A stranger I'm not that interested in; unless I can learn the sordid divorce details. It's terrible of me, but it's obvious she wants to dish. However I would settle for more stories featuring Mom on the farm. Anyhow, I'm glad for Elizabeth Gilbert. She is a lucky woman. Unfortunately I'm more of a home body and didn't make it through Italy... I wonder did she ever kiss Giovanni?
Questions:
Did I read a review of the book, or a follow up book in the New Yorker? Last Year? I seem to remember a reference to grandma cutting up a beautiful cloak to make clothes for her children. I liked that review.
Rate: 2
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