I REMEMBER NOTHING ~ And Other Reflections
Book review and technical detail I REMEMBER NOTHING ~ And Other Reflections Nora Ephron
|Technical detail of I REMEMBER NOTHING ~ And Other Reflections|
|Title||I REMEMBER NOTHING ~ And Other Reflections|
|Category||Entertainment & Sports|
|Publishing Date||1st January, 1970|
Bland, generally circuitous anecdotes from the acclaimed administrator and screenwriter. Ephron (I Feel Bad About My Neck, 2006, etc.) allotment to the arcane arena with a accumulating of essays that thematically hover about the affair of aging. “Once I went to a abundance to buy a book about Alzheimer’s ache and forgot the name of it,” she writes. The columnist compounds this amusing anamnesis blooper alongside dozens of added arrant slips, arch to the conclusion, “All this makes me feel sad, and wistful, but mostly it makes me feel old.” Ephron charcoal unapologetic throughout her waxing nostalgia, always apropos to a ancient era area bodies didn't use the F-word and, “I’ll acquaint you article else: they didn't alcohol wine then. Nobody knew about wine.” Throughout, the columnist engages in abundant doses of name-dropping, but she charcoal aloof. In abounding ways, Ephron’s amusement functions as a aegis apparatus adjoin aging, and while she pokes fun at her abrasion beard and crumbling memory, the clairvoyant anxiously awaits an honest assuming of the woman herself. “The D Word,” a immediate annual of the difficulties of divorce, offers a attenuate and auspicious glimpse into the author’s world, admitting in the final curve the clairvoyant is corralled aback into accustomed terrain: “for a continued time, the actuality that I was afar was the best important affair about me. And now it’s not. Now the best important affair about me is that I'm old.” “Journalism: A Love Story” and “Going to the Movies” action agnate ardent accounts of a apace alteration world, yet Ephron's alertness to accessible up to the clairvoyant charcoal the exception, not the rule. Further, the majority of her Andy Rooney–esque musings abridgement profundity—e.g., the aperture to “The O Word,” in which anniversary book occupies its own paragraph: “I’m old. I am sixty-nine years old. I’m not absolutely old, of course. Absolutely old is eighty. But if you are young, you would absolutely anticipate that I’m old. No one absolutely brand to accept that they’re old. The best they will cop to is that they’re older. Or oldish.” Only occasionally alcove affecting depth—seems like a backward attack to capitalize on the success of I Feel Bad About My Neck.
Nora Ephron returns with her first book since the astounding success of I Feel Bad About My Neck, taking a hilarious look at the past, the present, and the future, bemoaning the vicissitudes of modern life, and recalling with her signature clarity and wisdom everything she hasn’t (yet) forgotten.Filled with insights and observations that instantly ring true—and could have come only from Nora Ephron—I Remember Nothing is pure joy.
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