I continue to return to this book time and again because of the portraits of people that Joan Didion gives us. Even though this was written before I was born, I am able to picture each essay with clarity thanks to her amazing prose and ability to capture folks from every walk of life.

n  

... and I did not tell him what I want to tell you, about a place in Honolulu that is quieter still than the 'Arizona': the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific. They all seem to be twenty years old, the boys buried up there in the crater of an extinct volcano named Punchbowl, twenty and nineteen and eighteen and sometimes not that old... Samuel Foster Harmon died, at Iwo Jima, fifteen days short of his seventeenth birthday... There are 19,000 graves in the vast sunken crater above Honolulu... I saw no-one else there but the men who cut the grass and the men who dig new graves, for they are bringing in bodies now from Vietnam.

n
Didion's first collection of prose pieces from the 1960s and a bit of a mixed response from me - but what is undoubted is the power and sheer style of her writing.

I was a little wary knowing that Didion has a reputation, at least at this stage of her career (1960s), of being essentially conservative but these are not party-political pieces. Yes, there's an underlying attitude of the world coming apart (note the title as a quotation from WB Yeats' 'The Second Coming') with moral foundations shattered - but in the wake of WW2 and the camps, that's hardly an unusual attitude and not one confined to the right.

The collection is essentially split into three and it's the first, on California during the hippy/Flower Power era, which is the strongest for me: here Didion skewers people, movements and social attitudes with acuity and lethal elegance exposing the dark underbelly of the supposed Summer of Love with irresponsibility, drugs (even being fed to children) and a generalised effete disengagement countering my romantic vision of activism, feminism, Civil Rights, anti-war dynamism. To be fair, she focuses her eye where she chooses so there's a sort of inbuilt bias, inevitably - but there's analysis like this, too:

Whenever I hear about the woman's trip, which is often, I think a lot about nothin'-says-lovin'-like-something-from-the-oven and the Feminine Mystique and how it is possible for people to be the unconscious instruments of values they would strenuously reject on a conscious level

or,

They are less in rebellion against the society than ignorant of it, able only to feed back certain of its most publicised self doubts, Vietnam, Saran-Wrap, diet pills, the Bomb.

The second section on 'personal' pieces was my least favourite; the third a mixed bag of travel-related pieces one of which is the outstanding article on a visit to Hawaii where the memories of Pearl Harbour coalesce with the repatriation of bodies from Vietnam.

This is, of course, a very American collection and there were places where I simply didn't understand the references. But the star of the show for me is Didion's glorious writing: stylish, hard-hitting and perceptive with a creative panache that is rare in journalistic articles.

“We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. We forget the loves and the betrayals alike, forget what we whispered and what we screamed, forget who we were.”

Wow, this was so good! What a smart and thoughtful essay collection, consisting mostly of journalism pieces and personal experiences in 1960s California. Can’t wait to read more Didion! This was my first.

PS. Keaton’s narration was pretty meh. I got tired of it quickly.

Sjajno napisana zbirka reportaža i kratkih eseja koja me je podsetila da su reportaže danas, barem kod nas, gotovo izumrle kao žanr, a da se one pisane i objavljivane u vreme kad je "na parče" nastajala ova knjiga Džoun Didion više maltene i ne čitaju.
A po sebi? Još jedan dokaz (ako nam je bio i potreban) da su daroviti neurotičari često pisci sa sjajnim okom za detalj koji će dočarati celu atmosferu, e sad, da li taj detalj odgovara činjeničnom stanju, drugo je pitanje. Džoun Didion se od većine takvih darovitih neurotičara razlikuje po iskrenosti s kojom nam sama skreće pažnju na to ali i po ubedljivosti s kojom vlastitu anksioznost i epizode kliničke depresije poistovećuje sa simptima cele epohe. Piše žustrim, jasnim, pitkim stilom (sve su ovo tekstovi pisani za novine i čitanje bez previše koncentracije), uz mnogo lepršave duhovitosti, i tako tek negde na tri četvrtine datog članka počnemo da se preispitujemo, na primer, da li su panični napadi, plimni talasi anksioznosti od kojih ne sme da se uđe u neku određenu ulicu, trajna nesanica i svakodnevni napadi plakanja ZAISTA prirodna, uobičajena i u suštini normalna posledica toga što je neko došao u Njujork i nekoliko godina vodio profesionalno srazmerno uspešan samostalni život u tom gradu.
Važan aspekt ovih tekstova koji se malo nedovoljno pominje jeste to što se šezdesete prikazuju ne toliko neprijateljski koliko... spolja. Generacijski jaz je retko kad zjapio ovoliko široko. Džoun Didion ne samo da ne pripada hipi generaciji, ona nije ni dovoljno stara da pripada generaciji njihovih roditelja pa da ih razume s te tačke gledišta. Zapravo, rekla bih da je ona taman uzrasta i profila Selindžerove Esme i njegovih drugih devojčica-junakinja, sve do Freni*: vuče težak balast očekivanja srednje klase iz jednog doba koje je već izumrlo i čije je nasleđe pedesetih godina silne bistre, radoznale i školovane devojčice iz dobrih kuća pretvorilo u neurotične, pogubljene mlade žene koje su s promenljivim uspehom pokušavale da izmire različite životne zahteve koji su se pred njih postavljali (a od kojih su vrlo mali deo same birale i smišljale).

*I bem mu miša, bila sam tako ponosna na ovu analogiju s Esme sve dok nisam uzela da pročitam neki legendarno zlobni članak o Didion pa se pokazalo da on pominje Freni Glas već u prvom pasusu. Biće da slično misle ne samo veliki već i naprosto pakosni umovi.

I'm not sure how I managed to NOT read this over the last few decades, but I recently read an article listing the top best 15 audiobooks to listen to, and Slouching Toward Bethlehem was on the list. Diane Keaton does indeed do a wondrous job with the narration, though personally this would not be on my "top 15" list of audiobooks. (One of them, for sure, would be Michelle Obama's "Becoming.")

Despite being written 50 years ago, the essays are amazingly timeless, and hold up well today. My favorite was the title essay, about life in Haight-Ashbury in 1967, followed by the one on Howard Hughes, a man about whom I've long had a small obsession with learning about his weirdness and phobias. Had I been older than 12 in 1967, I'm sure I would have felt the call to head to San Francisco, and that would NOT have been a good place for me - nor was it for any young girls at that time - as Didion describes in rich detail.

This was a solid 3.5 stars for me - half the essays were 3 stars and the other half 4. I'm rounding down to 3 because - well, I'm not really sure. I guess because I LIKED all of the essays, per 3 stars, and REALLY LIKED, per 4 stars, a handful. It's definitely worth listening to, both for a trip back in time to 1960's America (mostly California), but also because they are so interesting and, of course, well-written.

After having read some of Joan Didion’s contemporary nonfiction, I decided to rewind and read some of her older works. This collection included some journalism, but also some of her own thoughts and opinions of the time and other matters. It was an interesting mix, but I thought it was definitely some good food for thought and had me shocked at some of the stories I read about.

Joan Didion certainly knows how to build a story or case without making it feel too sensationalised. Rather, her method is to make it seem like storytelling… It leaves us curious to know what happens next but also shockingly aware that this is someone’s reality at the same time. Being able to see how it works in a fictionalised context while being completely aware that it is nonfiction made me as a reader realise how easily reality can become distorted and subjective. Joan Didion gives us a picture to start with in her journalist stories, but we know there is something not quite right with the picture we have been given.

Which leads me on to marvel about how she knows the best way to set a scene. I felt engraved in lifestyles and places I’ve never been to in my own life. She gives us enough facts and uncanny details that makes us feel immersed without going too overboard. Maybe some high fantasy fiction writers need to take a page from her book.

Sometimes when approaching nonfiction you simply come to expect coded and complex language that will take you a long time to read. But her nonfiction is written in a straightforward and mostly simple way. She includes images that help you imagine the scene and clearly describes what you need to know.

I didn’t agree with all of her opinions or statements. But it was so interesting to read and think about her personal essays. I even discussed some of the statements and sentences with a friend as I was reading. So much food for thought. It made me think about myself, other people, whether I agreed or disagreed or something else entirely. She writes her personal essays in a way that allows us to know these are her opinions and views, but by no means the only or the answer to how things should have been done. I liked that it was so open and self-aware.

However, at times I felt she was a bit limited in how she judged or perceived the younger generation. I will try my best to explain what I mean. I felt like you can feel the age difference between the ones she is examining and herself. She understands them and sees the larger picture as to why what is happening is happening, but at the same time she doesn’t quite manage to get into their minds and see things entirely from their eyes. This was what I garnered from my reading experience. Although she tried her best to bridge the distance, she didn’t achieve it entirely while simultaneously, perhaps believing she did so. Which is why sometimes I felt unsure about some of the conclusions she reached. Nonetheless, it still made me think, which is ultimately a win. Because it helped me form my own opinions on the matter.

The final chapters focused on musings where the main focus was the setting. I found that to be a little boring except the last one which flipped back to her personal essay on New York and mental health. I think my favourites of hers are when she writes her personal essays or follows a news story, rather than just the setting and then goes from what has occurred in that space.

me: if this book was at the boston tea party it’d be on the ocean floor
joan didion: what
me: i’m saying you served

At thirty three or four, Didion of Slouching Towards Bethlehem is still a girl. I recognize the signs. (Some people capable of voicing their thoughts on subjects such as "Self-Respect" and "Morality" are born middle-aged; others, possibly due to their specific upbringing, remain questioning, uncertain, young.)

Her parents relocated multiple times during her childhood (her father was in the military), which left her feeling a perpetual outsider.

Her voice is that of a well-mannered young woman, quiet and perceptive, living next to other people, but never being of them. Even when - I guess - she might be feeling some distaste - be it for the murderers, child abusers, or the very rich and divorced from 'real life', it is subdued, neutral, to be inferred, shown-not-told:

one of [Greek shipping heiresses] taught me a significant lesson (a lesson I could have learned from F. Scott Fitzgerald, but perhaps we all must meet the very rich for ourselves) by asking, when I arrived to interview her in her orchid-filled sitting room on the second day of a paralyzing New York blizzard, whether it was snowing outside. (On Keeping a Notebook)

She is sensitive and perceptive in a way which makes me want to buy her a drink:

Barbara is on what is called the woman's trip to the exclusion of almost everything else. When she and Tom and Max and Sharon need money, Barbara will take a part-time job, modeling or teaching kindergarten, but she dislikes earning more than ten or twenty dollars a week. Most of the time she keeps house and bakes. "Doing something that shows your love that way," she says, "is just about the most beautiful thing I know." Whenever I hear about the woman's trip, which is often, I think a lot about nothin'-says-lovin'-like-something-from-the-oven and the Feminine Mystique and how it is possible for people to be the unconscious instruments of values they would strenuously reject on a conscious level, but I do not mention this to Barbara. (Slouching Towards Bethlehem)

She is a neurotic; she weeps in Chinese laundries and wakes at night; she escapes to Hawaii; she is Elizabeth Wurtzel's patron saint and older sister - but she is old enough to be self-aware:

It was once suggested to me that, as an antidote to crying, I put my head in a paper bag. As it happens, there is a sound physiological reason, something to do with oxygen, for doing exactly that, but the psychological effect alone is incalculable: it is difficult in the extreme to continue fancying oneself Cathy in "Wuthering Heights" with one's head in a Food Fair bag.

Didion's understanding of situations and people is an instrument of unusually wide range; she understands the big picture (I read her description of post-war Hawaii - "Letter from Paradise" - with bated breath), but she can also convey her perceptions of individuals in amusing, nearly picture-book-like neat phrases, which one may confuse for innocence:

Mr. Scott says that he will be glad to get Alcatraz off his hands, but the charge of a fortress island could not be something a man gives up without ambivalent thoughts. (Rock of Ages)

On the whole, I wanted to give the book four stars, but then it ended with a sublime (and girly, and whiney) "Goodbye to All That" - so underhanded! So manipulative! Such writing! - and decided to give it 4.5.

i bought myself some joan didion books for christmas and they were sitting under the tree when i heard of her passing. i’m disappointed i didn’t get to read some of her work while she was still here but joan’s legacy will live forever.

after finishing this book i find myself wondering how i can feel so close to a person i’ve never met?

rest in peace to a brilliant, inspiring woman.

Slouching Towards Bethlehem is a classic of what was once called the New Journalism. It was written during the first decade of my life, and now, entering my sixth decade, I finally have made its acquaintance.

I use the word "acquaintance" quite literally; Joan Didion's voice infuses the pages of her essays inescapably. Having read this collection, I feel that I have met its author. I don't like her. The woman whose voice overwhelmed me in this collection strikes me as sharp minded, sharp eyed, yet cold and prematurely curdled; a person I might respect, to whom I could be formally polite, but I doubt I would enjoy her company.

Yet I loved her work. Her writing is strong, her phrases surprising and perfectly chosen. Her power to project her personality, however much I disliked it, into excellent essays of cultural importance, melding the personal with the public, was an alchemy that I found bewitching. Though I don't particularly like her, I find that I am glad that I met her.

That a collection of journalism sixty years old can leave you breathless is only one of the qualities of this collection and of this author. The stories in this collection put into the shade almost every working journalist or writer you will read currently. This is the sort of writing which should be the bench mark for anyone attempting to write about almost anything.

The essay 'Slouching Toward Bethlehem' should be read by anyone trying to understand the 1960's and is possibly one of the best personal accounts of what those turbulent years meant in America. Her observation of people and events is masterful, almost everyone who read and praised the piece at the time misunderstood it as Joan Didion describes in the introduction to this edition. That is not surprising because it is so non-didactic, it is all reportage, no commentary although there is plenty of attempts to question what that turbulent summer of love in San Francisco said about America and particularly young Americans at the time. She picks out trends that clearly were important but are now almost forgotten because circumstances have changed.

One of the most interesting things Didion picks up when speaking with the young people she encountered was their lack of any real sense of home or roots. It is forgotten how mobile the post WWII families were. I was born in 1958, so too young to have been a 'flower child' or take part in the summer of love in 1967, yet by the time I left grade/primary school my family had moved four times, to three different states and I had attended three different schools and that was not unusual. The 100,000 children (many of them as young as 14 and most not out of high school) not only had no family living close to them, they had no long term friends or neighbours. Even many of the places they lived were barely a few years old, sub-divisions of suburbs without history. Nowhere else was affected like the USA was by the 1960's - you didn't have 100, let alone one hundred thousand children leave home and come and squat around the King's Road in London - but they did come in those numbers to San Francisco. For many Americans it was a sign, along with Vietnam, civil rights marches and later riots, that their country was falling apart. Thousands of articles and books were written at the time and later to try and explain what was happening - none of them are worth reading and none of them said anything because they all went with a view already formed. Didion is one of the few who went and talked and listened.

What she reported had resonance then and now. It is rare to find any reporter who managed to convey the speech of those times the 'groovy', 'turn-on' and 'old woman' without sounding ridiculous or patronising. Way too many films and tv shows were made in the late 60's with characters using those, and similar, words and it always sounded fake. When Didion reports its use it doesn't sound fake, ridiculous maybe, like all youth group jargon and although the hippie kids of 1967 may have been shallow, it was a shallowness based on idealism and Didion captures that. I can't help preferring the idealistic shallowness of 1967 to the materialistic shallowness of the 'Valley Girl', MTV and Pauli Shore generation.

Didion also captures a great deal that was later expunged from the story, women were referred to as 'my old woman' without embarrassment and objectified and treated in way that is only slightly less shocking then her report of young white radicals in black-face (I kid you not) abusing and bullying a young black man as not revolutionary enough and calling him an Uncle Tom - it must be read to be believed - like her account of hippies giving small amounts of various drugs to their five year old children. Didion is never blind, accepting, or patronising in her reportage - it is just full frank and honest.

Which is what you can say about so much of the rest of the writing in this collection - most of which in various ways are about California and Sacramento where she grew up. They are fascinating and still say things worth reading - how many sixty year old pieces about Howard Hughes are worth reading? None I would imagine, except Didion's. In 1964 she reported on Hollywood after the demise of the 'studio system':

"(The demise of the studios promised) 'fewer and better' pictures, and what have we? We have fewer pictures but not necessarily better pictures...It (is) impossible to work honestly in Hollywood...what is left of the studios thwart...them, the money men conspire against them...their prints (are taken) before they finishing cutting. They are bound by cliches...the intellectual climate (is wrong)...if only they were allowed freedom...were allowed to exercise their voice..."

Plus ca change, the same could, and has been written again, and again in the sixties years since. But right from the start Didion recognised it as self-serving elision to avoid unpleasant truths.

Once you start quoting Didion it is hard to stop but I cannot resist the following from her essay on self-respect where, talking about cliches like Waterloo being won on the playing fields of Eton or the British empire being built by men who always dressed for dinner, she says:

"To say that Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton is not to say that Napoleon might have been saved by a crash course in cricket; to give formal dinners in the rain forest would be pointless did not the candlelight flickering on the liana call forth deeper, stronger disciplines, values instilled long before. It is a kind of ritual, helping us to remember who and what we are. In order to remember it, one must have known it.

I could easily go on quoting, or simply mentioning, writings which speak loudly to me and which I want to force on others. Least I do a poor job and put you off reading Didion I will stop and simply say these are writings that will not disappoint.

n  

“One of the mixed blessings of being twenty and twenty-one and even twenty-three is the conviction that nothing like this, all evidence to the contrary notwithstanding, has ever happened to anyone before.”

n

Joan Didion was always on my vague to be read list, but after her passing I bumped her to my must read immediately. I'm so glad I finally picked up this collection - as I was very impressed by it.

Didion's writing is distinct, charming and engaging. Her use of language and the flow of the essays through her style really kept me engaged. I LOVE essays about place, so the ones about California really stood out to me. I think my favourite essay was "Goodbye to All That", which closes the collection. It's a beautiful piece about growing up and connecting to a place at different times in your life.

Definitely picking up her other works