This collection made me so homesick for a state that I don’t even like that much. Didion’s California feels at once foreign and so photographically accurate that even while reading this from Ohio, I can sense the familiar dry heat of the Santa Ana winds against my back.
tIf you decide read this, get ready to LAUGH and get ready to FEEL! And please do decide to read it...

Joan Didion can write about how the glue used in phone books in the 60's was developed and she'll find an interesting angle, an interesting way to make it relevant. She'll find a poignant element and flesh out the rest of the essay, coloring it with the time period and the people populated by it. Her voice is so urbane and refined that sometimes reaching her more caustic points and observations is like swallowing needles in honey. While I didn't enjoy this collection as much as others, I do feel that her piece about the Central Park jogger case of 1989 was outstanding. Her ability to assess, describe, and finely sum up a person with such an economy of words is enviable.

Didion's most California-centric and boring collection I've come across. There are still a few great essays in here.

As strong as WHITE ALBUM and stronger than BETHLEHEM: Didion finds profound truths in that morass of malaise, the American Late 80s.

I'm rounding the final corner on my year-long Didion deep-dive (I bought the Library of America collections "The 1960s & 70s" and "The 1980s & 90s" to save a few bucks and some shelf space, and this book is the penultimate book in the latter volume). Her skill as an essayist is unparalleled - she was equally talented at crafting long, winding sentences that draw you in and demand a reread as she was at short, evocative, declarative statements.

The reason I'm only giving this 4-stars is that sometimes the laser focus of her insight is actually a bit distancing, when, as a reader, you are not familiar enough with the topic under discussion. This collection, grouped into three sections - Washington, California, New York - veered a bit too far "Inside Baseball" for me, especially in a few of the pieces in the "California" section; I could appreciate what she was doing, but I can't say I understood all of the backstories and their relative importance. However, as a New Yorker, I was immensely grateful to read, for the first time, the extended, thoughtful piece on the Central Park Five, the 1989 rape case that captivated the city and exposed all manner of implicit and overt assumptions about race, policing, safety, and what makes New York New York.

As with all of Didion's essay collections though, it's worth a read whether or not you know much about the topics she covers - her talent with prose will more than make up for any putative lack of context that might hinder you.

Didion writes with a clarity and grace usually found only in pure mountain spring water. These essays are a delight.

Having read several books by Didion in the past year and really loving here first book of essays, I knew sticking out this difficult book would be worth it, but it was a challenge. I didn’t find much worth in the first 219 pages. I wasn’t all to interested in the world of name dropping, soiree’s and politics she found herself in in the late 80s. Her writing was so specific And lacked context for me to engage in the events she was writing on and ultimately I just didn’t care.

However, the final essay on the history of Los Angeles and specifically the LA Times was interesting and the final section of “New York Sentimental Journals” is very timely and fascinating ideas on systemic racism and a look at the Central Park five case which has been in the news again in recent years because of Mr Trump’s disgusting involvement.

Glad I didn’t start my Didion dive with this one...otherwise I probably wouldn’t have finished the book and may not have given her another chance too soon.

I can never get enough of Joan Didion. An observer of both sides and a collector of facts and history.

The first Didion collection of essays I've read where I felt some of the pieces were were just mediocre, but there's excellent ones as well, particularly 'Girl of the Gold West', about Patty Hearst, and 'Times Mirror Square', about how Harrison Gray Otis and his son-in-law Harry Chandler basically willed Los Angeles into existence (blended with the history of the Los Angeles Times newspaper). The 'Pacific Distances' essay was a little too disconnected, but portions of it were brilliant, particularly the parts about the TRIGA nuclear reactor at Berkeley and the laser project at Livermore Labs.

'Sentimental Journey' stood out as well. It has some questionable reasoning, but is fascinating for analyzing how the 1989 New York trial of a group of black youths for the rape and near-murder of a white jogger in Central Park revealed how the city's media and citizen constructed 'narratives' (even opposing ones along racial lines) -- narratives about the meaning of the event that flattened out the reality of the people involved and obscured the actual problems and conditions of the city. Her thorough and nuanced teasing out of these competing, idealizing narratives was amazing, but her suggestions that the city's worst ills were caused by or simply are high taxes and union/government corruption seemed underdeveloped.

I was also at a disadvantage because I read this in the omnibus collection We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live: Collected Nonfiction, which removes the essays 'Insider Baseball' and 'Shooters Inc', because they're re-printed in the later Political Fictions which is also part of the omnibus. I just read the excellent 'Insider Baseball', about Dukakis's 89 presidential campaign (and, yep, she again does fascinating analysis of how spurious narratives get built, this time by the insular world of campaign politics and the reporters who follow it) -- and its inclusion might have bumped my overall rating up to 4 stars.

RESTA CON ME, NON TE NE ANDARE


Antony Gormley: Exposure (2010).

Hanno scelto uno strano titolo per l’edizione italiana. Quello originale è un semplice After Henry, dopo Henry: perché Henry è morto, ed Henry è stato un grande amico di Joan Didion e di suo marito John Dunne.
Amico prima ancora che editor.
Questa raccolta di saggi giornalistici, dono di una persona preziosa, è dedicata a lui, a Henry Robbins (e anche a Bret Easton Ellis).


Il campus di Berkeley dell’Università di California, dove Didion si è laureata nel 1956.

S’incontrarono per la prima volta nell’estate del 1966.
S’incontrarono a cena e restarono insieme fino alle tre del mattino, ridendo e bevendo, ubriacandosi di alcol e allegria.
Da allora, per tredici anni, fino a una mattina del luglio 1979, i coniugi Didion-Dunne e Henry Robbins si sentirono almeno una volta alla settimana, e, nonostante la distanza (loro in California, lui a New York) si raccontarono e condivisero tredici anni di vita.
Poi, in una mattina di luglio del 1979, Henry Robbins si accasciò sul pavimento della stazione della metropolitana della 14ma strada, e non si rialzò più. A 51 anni.


L’estremità a sud dell’isola di Manhattan, il financial district, Wall Street e il vuoto lasciato dalle Twin Towers.

Per come lo descrive Joan Didion, Henry Robbins era un editor che non aveva molto a che fare con titoli, frasi, modifiche: era quello che a lei scrittrice restituiva un’idea di sé, un’immagine di sé che le permetteva di restare sola e scrivere.

L’ultima volta che Joan Didion ed Henry Robbins si videro fu due mesi prima della morte di Henry, a Los Angeles: Henry passò a casa di Joan prima di andare a una festa di lavoro, e lei lo convinse a dare buca e restare a cena. Quella sera parlarono molto, ma, secondo Joan, quello che Henry voleva davvero trasmetterle era che poteva farcela anche senza di lui.
Ma lei non gli credette.


Downtown San Francisco visto da una finestra dello SFMOMA.

Resta con me, non te ne andare è il verso di una poesia di Delmore Schwartz, che poi continua così:
Trovare il giusto passo prima di invecchiare,
Camminare insieme sulla strada che scompare,
Come Chaplin e la sua sorella orfana.

È la quarta raccolta di reportage pubblicata in Italia (dopo “Verso Betlemme”, “The White Album” e “Miami”).
La scrittura sfumata, rarefatta, sfuggente, sfaccettata di Joan Didion trasforma in letteratura ogni appunto del suo taccuino, e compone un ritmo seducente, erotico.


La Statua della Libertà vista dal traghetto per Staten Island.

È diviso in tre parti: la prima è dedicata a Washington, e quindi a campagne elettorali presidenziali, alla politica che determina la Storia; l’ultima a New York, ed è un lungo saggio su un caso di stupro molto violento a Central Park (impossibile non pensare a “Lucky” di Alice Sebold) che diventa l’occasione per ragionare sulla violenza verso le donne, sui sogni e le bugie della Grande Mela, su come si crea l’illusione della sicurezza (e quella dell’insicurezza), su come nasce un parco, tra speculazioni immobiliari e domande di lavoro.
Quella centrale, e più corposa, è dedicata alla California: e per il tempo che ho passato in quella parte del mondo, e per come amo quel paese, è per forza di cose la mia sezione preferita di questa miscellanea.


Downtown Los Angeles.

Didion non regala certezze, e neppure opinioni facili: dona al lettore un’esperienza letteraria.

L’infanzia è il regno dove nessuno muore mai.

PS
Oltre il titolo, trovo sbagliata anche la copertina, semplicemente brutta.


Antony Gormley: Quantum Cloud VIII (1999).

Here's the thing about rating nonfiction, especially something like essays, that are essentially a person's opinions and the only thing you can really rate is whether you agree with them and their writing ability.

Joan Didion's ability to write is not to be questioned, although sometimes the way she phrased things left me confused and only proved that she was far more intelligent than I will ever be.

This is the third book of her essays I've read. The other two I enjoyed quite a lot, as they were primarily nostalgic and somewhat sentimental journeys into my own childhood. Events long religated to history that made me think, "Oh yeah, I remember that!"

This one, however, in my opinion, has not aged as well. Personally, while I agree with her politics, I could care less about an essay primarily about the 1988 Republican and Democratic Conventions. It was boring then and even more so now. It was also the first time I was of age to vote and I was really, really disappointed in my options. And bored.

This one is also primarily about California politics. Despite the saying, "As California goes, so goes the reset of the country" being pretty much true, I really, really don't care about California politics from 40 years ago. Ditto the end essay on New York's politics from 40 years ago. The crime and racial aspects are still timely and important. Politics and this country's seemingly low average intelligence remains absolutely depressing. From Ronald Reagan to Donald Trump, all we care about is reality tv and not political agendas that might actually benefit the mass majority of those of us working hard everyday, one paycheck from disaster and homelessness.

Joan Didion got the stances correct, and if she were still here, I'd love to hear her thoughts on the here and NOW. The only difference for me from the late 80s, early 90s, is that the world is a really scary place, always has been. I was just a lot more naive and sheltered then. It was a luxury this collection of essays proves none of us can afford.

Joan Didion is armed with a particular kind of x-ray vision — one that cuts through appearances, never fooled by the words being said or the explanation being given. It takes a certain breed of person, perhaps one that has been taught to distrust nearly everything and everyone, to bring the charismatic indifference and rigor she does to her political and cultural commentary.

After Henry is a worthwhile read, but much more focused on American politics and history than her other collections of non-fiction writing. There are certain gems in this book — the essays Insider Baseball, Shooters Inc., Sentimental Journeys — but at times difficult to get through if one is uninterested in the details of 80s politics. I would recommend Slouching Towards Bethlehem first, The White Album second, A Year of Magical Thinking third, and After Henry only for those who have at that point been thoroughly cast under the Didion spell.