I really wanted to like this book. Got 1/3 of the way through and set it aside. The writing doesn't flow well at all and is repetitive. While there are some great thoughts and a bit of humor, it's just too bloated with subpar writing.

سيرة ذاتية مليئة بالثرثرة و تفاصيل التفاصيل كان يمكن ان تختصر الى 300 صفحة بدل 500 صفحة
تحدثت كثيرا عن النسوية و مناصرة المراة و الكثير الكثير من المغامرات الجنسية المحرمة التى عاشتها ايريكا
تشعر القارئ بالملل من التكرار.
اقيمها نجمتين فقط

I absolutely love Erica Jong’s voice and perspective. I read her work as if I am listening to the ongoing monologue of a dear and respected friend, but objectively her books are often disjointed and scattered in a way that is hard to follow or comprehend as a cohesive book. She focuses so much of this “memoir” around her sacrifices just to BE a writer, as well as her struggle to reveal herself without a great deal of actual relevations about anyone besides past lovers (and whether they had good or bad sex). Her life can’t have been just what was shared in this book. I would happily have indulged in more of her thoughts or reflections on anything she did, especially the motherhood bits which I enjoyed immensely.

A lengthy review will come on my blog. I loved this book. So many great points made.

لا تقرأ الكتاب قبل قراءة مؤلفات الكاتبة، لن تحبه سوى بذلك على الأغلب، إيريكا يونغ تملك في عتمة نفسها بصيصًا من الخير الإنساني الرفيع ولا تغتر بخلاعتها أحيانًا فهي من وراء ذلك إنسانًا إنساني بحق

Could not get into this book.

20 year old book, still kinda relevant. Lost interest around 50 pages in.

Could not complete. I read 50% then gave up - an extremely rare occurrence. I found the writing superficial and self indulgent.

سرد مفصل لمذكرات الكاتبه … للوهله الاولى توقعت ان الكتاب يحتوى على قيم وافكار ممكن الاستفاده منها،، بعد قراءة المذكرات بتفاصيلها الممله ،،، اكتشفت ان سواء قراتها من البدايه او عند المنتصف او اخر المذكرات ،، لا يهم سوف تصل الي المغزى

An essential companion piece to Fear of Flying, however the thick carpet of references can make it hard going at times.

Erica Jong soared to celebrity after her 1973 book "Fear of Flying" introduced readers to indulging in the fantasy of the “zipless fuck”, a sexual encounter with no strings attached. It sold over 20 million copies and introduced the term as a part of the feminist dialogue as the first waves of feminism peaked and were coming to a close in the early seventies.

In this mid-life memoir published in 1994, Jong now in her fifties, looks back at her life and reconsiders what she has experienced and learned in the last years. One of the big points she makes is that loves matters and that instant orgasms do not, forever sealing the fate of that anonymous, fantasy sexual encounter that captured everyone’s attention so many years ago.

Jong presents herself as a charter member of what she calls the “whiplash generation”. She describes what it was like to be raised to be Doris Day while she yearned to be someone like Gloria Steinem and later to raise her daughters in an age when the publicly acclaimed role models were such disparate figures as Princess Diana and Madonna. She says women like her have had their expectations about living their lives in a world without rigid social and sexual boundaries, raised and dashed so many times, they suffer from whiplash.

Over the years, Jong has continued to push against the expectations of others and in the process has learned some things about life, love and living. As a woman always interested in herself as well as others, she wants to share them with her readers, so she offers her opinions on everything from sex, marriage, feminism, motherhood, identity and loss, all through the prism of her own experience. What results is a fun, free-wheeling volume that avoids a chronological approach and instead presents a variety of topics, all of which contain an autobiographical component with musings about the topic written in her signature raw, “in your face” style.

Jong has appointed herself the spokeswoman of her generation who likens her own experience to that of other women; she believes that by discussing herself, she is also discussing the female condition. What she has not considered is her profile which in no way is representative of most women. She is white, well-off and healthy. She travels, writes, teaches, presents at conferences, enjoys an audience ready to listen to what she has to say and has supportive friends. In fact, she represents only a very small group of women. Given her comfortable profile, she is still very much an angry woman; why is not so clear. And why does she assume other women of her age feel like she does and are angry too?

Although her purpose is to write about her generation she has failed in that objective. Not all women, even the women of her time, are part of the whiplash generation, raised to be someone but always yearning to be someone else. She has little to say to the woman who do not come from her privileged circumstances, so this book will not appeal to them. On the other hand, it is important to say, they are probably not among those who would buy or read her books.

Amid the resentful rants, are some kinder, gentler moments when she describes her elderly lesbian aunt, her conversations with her daughter Molly, her supportive friends and her love of writing. These sections portray her as smart but vulnerable and are more appealing than when her writing assumes a more defiant and pretentious tone.

Still, despite its faults, Erica Jong’s books always provide an entertaining fun read with a little poetry (her own of course!) and there are some wise words thrown in here and there.

الى اي مدى نبدو متمسكين بالحياة بينما يبدو الكون كله رثا ويتداعى وقابلا للاندثار في اي وقت
اريكا يونغ ذات الاسلوب تماما