Hopefully this will be my first review of many to come. I am a little tired tonight and scatter brained so bare with me!
How do I start my review? Well lets just start easy. In essence the book SUCKED. Period the end...oh wait not the end......ok now the end....wait, wait......now its the end....wait! I need to wax philosophical about how Julia's brains are rotting and how mine is a metaphor for heaven...now its the end. (If you are stupid and read the book you will totally get all that).
Plot: My original assumption about the plot was- lonely New Yorker needing to find something new in her life decides make all of the receipes in Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child, blogs about it, finds 15 mins of fame (I saw the original CBS interview), and has life changing experience. HA!!! I was so fucking wrong (the f-word is used quiet a lot in the book, while the author apparently likes to use big words like impecunious and avuncular she apparently was incapable of finding a synonym for "fuck"). The REAL plot was this: fat alcoholic fake New Yorker from Texas, complains about not getting "any", working for a government agency run by heartless Republicans, and cooking discusting food, with filler.
When Mrs Powell was not complaining about herself, her work, or her friends, she took the liberty to remind us all that she wasn't having any sex and making tactless and tasteless (HA! no pun intended) jabs at the Republican party. And just for spice she threw in some blurbs about her Julie/Julia project...thats just what they were blurbs...which leads me to my next point.
Writing style: You call that a writing style?! I call that draft one! No, no...brainstorm one! She wrote like a drunken five year old with ADHD. Whoever the editor was for her book should be fired! Austen, the Brontes, and Wolfe are all rolling in their graves at the "writing" in this book!
Characters: Shallow, scattered, faceless, and pretty much blend together. No dynamic, no contrast, no life. For real live people I expected more.
Setting: Typical New York...grey, overwhelming, filled with drones. Nothing outstanding. Even when the author tried to add a little flavor to the setting it just turned out unsavory and down right unsanitary, and in some cases inappropriate.
Overall: In general I am all for the free speeched thing, but it seemed Mrs Powell used her book to express her ill educated political opinions and whine about her pathetic life. Here is my personal opinion, you want to spout political either do it sounding like you know what the hell you are talking about or keep your fucking mouth shut. Other than that Mrs Powell your book is now toilet paper. If I had a bird I would line its cage with your book...that is how bad it is. Please do not grace us with another of your insipid blurbs about your pathetic life.
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