Book Review: I feel bad about my neck, Nora Ephron

I have almost entirely given up buying fiction or even non-fiction so when Luci told me she had Nora Ephron's book I noodled her to death at her 4th of July gala to lend it to me.  And she did, and I finished it.

It is not a great book, but it is a must read book if you are a woman of a certain age.  Don't read it if you are under 50; don't read it if you are child-less; and certainly don't read it if you don't have an Ephron sensibility or a New York Woody Allen way of looking at the world as the world looks at you.

On page 105, Ephron says, and I quote, "I can't believe how real life never lets you down.  I can't understand why anyone would write fiction when what actually happens is so amazing."

One of two reasons it is annoying not owning a book is you can't (or won't) mark it up for quotations or passages that capture your attention.  Another reason is you have to avoid sleeping or eating with the book least you mess it up.

My poetry friend, Dottie, lent me a book last week and immediately after I read the two chapters I was interested in I wrapped it in cello to keep it clean until I return it.  She made a point of telling me not to read it with a messy attitude.   I didn't.

Wrinkled turkey neck (stock photo)
Back to the book with a ridiculous title, "I feel bad about my neck."

It is so good that while I didn't belly laugh, I chuckled often and nodded my head more times than usual in agreement, and thoroughly enjoyed it from page one to its conclusion.  Ephron writing, like Ephron movies are to be cherished for their down to earth quality, and simple, simple underlined, statements that resonate as brilliant long after you left the theatre or closed the book.

She takes the mundane and turns it into what her mother referred to "as copy."   She makes necks, strudel, death, wrinkles, buying shampoo or renting an apartment seem momentous and an adventure.

She'll be missed.

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