Susan, you brave writing soul - you always get straight to the bullshit behind media platitudes. This piece is so sharp, well-argued, and personally vulnerable - all the qualities you’ve convinced me are missing from Molly Jong-Fast’s memoir. I read an excerpt a few days ago, and it disturbed me, too, for many of the same reasons. I also thought it was very poorly written (that faux self-awareness and “should I say that?” you mention). The mostly positive reviews stagger me.
I thought she was writing about her mother in ways I never would, and I had a problematic artist mother myself. In fact, I’ve been doing some memoir writing about my mother, but my focus has been on her art and the dissonance within myself. Big ego, mental illness, nastiness - you can’t separate an artist from their work.
One of my biggest rules as a personal nonfiction writer and teacher of this form is that you should never expose other people more than you expose yourself. Molly JF may think she’s done that my talking about her own recovery, but based on what I’ve read, she hasn’t looked hard enough at herself to figure out why she wrote this. It saddens me enormously that nobody pushed her to go deeper and to exhibit kindness as well as daughterly hurt.
I often wondered, while reading it, where her editor was. Did she even have one? I mean that not just about the exposures but about the writing itself, which has good moments but many more awkward, juvenile moments. There are so many places that really needed a red pen—and I’m not just talking about the poop in the bed (that’s more an “ethical” concern than an aesthetic one—although I’ve been thinking about the ways they are intertwined, and how great writers can give us something wonderful even though we hate some of the things they say) but all the silly, self-indulgent asides and parenthetical remarks. She’s a good journalist (although not a particular penetrating one) but she’s not a writer.
Definitely — I would have edited this a lot, just at the line level. The problem may be that she's had little experience with personal essay writing or memoir, but her journalistic background should have been helpful, too. I'm a strong believer in first-person journalism, which connects a sharp observing eye on the world with acknowledging your own biases. But If you do nod to to your own uncertainty and biases, you need more then the self-referential asides of social media ("can I say that? don't be a hater!") Journalists often begin my classes assuming that's what it means to "get personal." It's the opposite: if you have an impulse to make such an aside, you either know it is true — you are being mean — or feel ashamed or uncomfortable. Examining your own discomfort and culpability and making meaning of your life is the point, not piling on a less-than-perfect mother who now has dementia.
I also wondered where her editor was, and I concluded that the person was hands-off at best, negligent at worst. I also think the book showed signs of more editorly neglect the farther in I read, which is a very bad sign, such unevenness. Publishing houses don't put the kinds of resources into authors that they used to, and unless a writer is very skilled and can marshal her own resources, it shows in a book's weaknesses. (Here I mean both the writing and the self-indulgence without a critical eye toward her reporting of her own experience.)
I agree, Sara. I suspect whoever was editing or reviewing her manuscript just accepted her premises without questioning them. That is lousy editing, but many books that receive little developmental editing are now published by big houses. Authors are expected to find their own peer editors and readers (as you can see by the burgeoning of acknowledgments sections). But you need to find peer readers who *will* question you and push back.
I feel like there's such a multilayered and productive dialogue about the "Mother Wound" to be had here, one that could lead to new models for connection.
I love this idea, Alisa — it would be a fine anthology, especially if it included different perspectives. This discussion also made me think of Nancy Friday's "My Mother's Garden," which I remember really spoke to me when I read it decades ago. Maybe I'll read that again :-)
Thank you. My mother and I are (were- she’s been gone awhile) both second wave feminists. I had unusual, brilliant, often oblivious, sometimes neglectful parents myself, and I wrestle with their legacy. I cannot imagine writing a memoir of this ilk. I read a couple of reviews, and cannot understand how this elucidates anything important for the public understanding of either mother or daughter. Write it out in long hand, get it all on the page, share it with your therapist. But don’t inflict this on the world.
I’ve never been of the opinion that just because you feel it or think that’s a good enough reason to write about it. I felt this way with many of the Op Eds about Biden, in the days before the debate, when there wasn’t even any cause for concern. More and more, writing—whether journalistic or literary—seems to be something that everyone feels they have a “right” to do. Well, yeah, they have a “right”—but that doesn’t mean it’s worthy—or (as in the Biden case) that it won’t cause damage. Or that it’s great writing—which this book isn’t, although it’s being reviewed as though it is. (If it actually was a great piece of writing, I might feel differently about it.) But my opinion, judging from the reviews of MJF’s book, is a minority view.
Since my sister and I take care of our mother, who has dementia, then I would say that Jong-Fast's memoir could be deeply offensive to those of us dealing with our loved one's limitations. I can certainly understand why you were haunted by the book. There are so many degrees of old age and dementia, and yes, my mother was unable to wash herself and we did not discover all of her limitations until she smelled. Do we shame children when they don't know how to wash themselves well enough? Because a parent with dementia ends up being like a child who needs direction. We have help for our mom now, and I help her myself, caring for her just as I cared for my children and my grandchildren, when they needed direction. Thank you for writing this piece..I know what not to read this year!
AND It’s not as though MJF actually washed or physically tended her mother, either. She visited her daily (and briefly) and then (after the turd, she tells us) found a top-of-the-line, expensive care home for Erica and her husband. This isn’t a memoir of how it feels to tend a person who once was vital and now is declining. That’s an entirely different “genre”and—as you say—an entirely different experience, heartbreaking even when there are resentments from the past. I don’t see much heartbreak in this book, despite all the “I adore my mother” proclamations.
Oh Susan, this piece is extraordinary. On so many levels. Thank you. I am so grateful for you and your writing. It helps to keep me grounded in these ever-shifting realities that we continue to cope with and attempt to navigate. I've read most of Jong's books. Her writing was essential for the times. And for me. That her daughter has not read any of her works (including her poetry, I assume) is flabbergasting. My favorite of Jong's books (at least as I recall) was "How To Save Your Own Life." (For those who are not familiar, this was a novel, not a self-help book.) And although I can't recall much about the content/plot of the book (other than she left a husband), the emotion memory remains. Maybe it helped me to save my own life in some way. I'm going to pull it off the shelf and reread to find out. Thank you again for your essential and timely work. Your thoughts on ageism are spot on. As Bonnie already wrote on this thread, "This is of tremendous service."
I can’t tell you—although I just am!!—what a comment like this means to me. More and more, I feel as though I’m writing for people like you, many of whom are women of my generation (or in that general territory), who appreciate having me speak “for them” and against the grain of our current culture. This was a very, very hard piece for me to gather my fortitude to write, and I still don’t feel recovered from it!! But I had to write it, and I love you for being so generous and emotionally open in your response to it.
Thank you. Reading Erica's work compelled me to be a writer. I'm not sure how I feel about this memoir with all its messy contradictions, and you're right, Molly can't have it both ways. Pick one side of the road and stick to it. You've given us a lot to consider, as always.
Thanks, Linda. I really don’t mind the mess—although a better writer would have given us the mess differently. Messy is one thing. It’s the stuff of life. But cruelty without purpose which won’t even own itself isn’t just a “contradiction,” it’s bad faith.
Thank you for doing your caregiving so respectfully and empathetically. No matter how hurt you were by your mother, it’s just cruel to go into this level of detail about her difficulties. MJF may be unpleasantly surprised when she reaches old age.
The book sounds truly awful and positive reviews bullshit hype. I am appalled by what you’ve reported. The entire book seems plain mean. I mean, I don’t know if Erika ever got sober but the fact that Molly is sober and has been for 26 years, I kinda would expect a more sympathetic betrayal of her alcoholic mother who after all had the same illness her daughter does and it is an illness make no mistake
I do like memoirs and was interested in this new book. Even though I have not read any of Erica Jong's work I do remember her literary exposure here in Ireland in the 80s and 90s. I have seen it get favourable reviews but this critical article, written with such precision and care, provides a different perspective. Given that Jong is in poor health now the question that arises for me is 'what is the purpose of such a book in the grand scheme of things and who benefits?'
Good question. What IS the purpose? Sometimes I think writing books has become something that we no longer expect a purpose for. If you have the right connections and believe that “anyone can be a writer” then you get to write a book. And in the case of the well-known, make a bunch of money. And get even more well-known. Bookstores make me nauseous nowadays, I don’t like browsing in them anymore.
You’ve left us with very much to think about, Susan. I’d heard Ms. Jong-Fast’s book variously described as “moving,” and compared with “Crying in H-Mart,” and assumed her mother was either no longer living, or that her personality was lost to advanced Alzheimer’s disease. Apparently Erica Jong is very much with us, although somewhat altered. Your piece reminded me poignantly of my own mother, who was able to end her very long life at home with the help of two caregivers, Polish-American sisters who plied our Ukrainian-born mom with the Eastern European cooking and ambience she relished. I’m sure that in very great old age, situations such as Ms Jong-Fast described may have occurred, but they would have been dealt with tactfully, and she always appeared beautifully turned out, as she loved to be.
Now I’m going to read your review of that book by Jake Tapper, may his name be erased (as my maternal ancestors would have said). It should be a treat.
There is a place for a review that well and truly lets a bad book have it. Usually I don’t enjoy these reviews, because they’re like taking a sledgehammer to a butterfly, but in this case your arguments were perfectly solid and more than deserved, and applied to a malevolent book that was doing real harm in rewriting history. Tapper and Thompson have had the backing of sympathetic media to shore up their positions. It has not helped.
These are the usual questions raised by biography, especially of still living people. Elizabeth Gaskell’s biography of Charlotte Brontë attracted exactly this sort of reproach, as did Angelica Bell’s account of her mother, Vanessa Bell https://www.nybooks.com/articles/1985/10/24/what-maisie-didnt-know/. Philip Roth’s account of his father’s death is the ultimate betrayal of a parent, in these terms. Myself, I I think Erica Jong had it right, or, as Norah Ephron’s mother said to her daughter, everything is copy.
I had an uneasy feeling when I read something in the Atlantic ( or somewhere ? - failing memory- early dementia? ) the other day about the young Jong-Fast - thanks Susan for doing the hard lifting with it so eloquently - I don't need to read it now.
I listened to Terry Gross’ interview with MJF yesterday, before reading this of course, or either of the referenced books, and there was an uneasiness inside of me (and I thought in Terry’s reactions at times)…while listening. I will read the books before claiming any true right to criticize, but in the information that MJF shared of her own volition, i felt a metaphorical pinching of the nostrils, furrowing of the brow….like walking into a room with a bad smell.
I haven’t heard that interview, and I have to admit I’m sort of reassured/gratified that you were made uneasy by it. And am intrigued by your sensing that Terry Gross might have felt that way too. My piece is so against the grain of current reactions to the book, it’s made me wonder whether I’m a relic (and I don’t mean just age, but sensibilities in this culture. Well, maybe I am, but at least I’ve discovered there are quite a few other relics, too!
I know what you mean. I felt myself searching for what I was “over dramatizing” bc maybe I was missing something. But my internal self, my “mother” self, must have thought subconsciously how horrible it would be if one of my 4 children held such flippant regard for my feelings or my dignity. It may just be us, but oh well. That is the beauty of subjective interpretation isn’t it? Thanks again for writing such a compelling critique. You are not alone. 😊
Oh, boy, will I have a lot to say and mull about this book, which is sitting unopened on my e-reader. Terrific piece, Susan. I remember Fear of Flying and the Erica Jong phenomenon. I expect Molly’s memoir will trouble me.
Oh, boy, do I look forward to hearing what you think of it!! (BTW, really glad to hear about the response to your sister’s recommendation of your stack. Your note on it was probably the first mention of sub numbers that didn’t annoy me. But wow, what a difference the rec of a well-known person can make on substack!)
Started reading last night. My hackles go up when she says she shouldn’t say what she is saying. Either say what you mean without apology or shut up. It’s unlikely I’ll shut up after reading this book.
Excellent, honest review. I reserved the book from my library, but now I'm not sure I even want to read it. I'm 76 and was never a particular fan of Erica Jong's, but this memoir just sounds cruel, exploitative, and distasteful.
I’m midway through Molly’s book, though not with the relish with which I typically read new ones (I devoured Alison Bechdel’s “Spent” in a single sitting). Yes, it’s the cruelty I notice. This is not the Molly I like on television, who made me ashamed of considering her just another nepo baby when she published a book while still in tender years, near the age I first devoured “Fear of Flying” with guilty thrills after a Calvinistic childhood.
Thank you, Susan, for putting several fingers on what disquieted me.
Susan, you brave writing soul - you always get straight to the bullshit behind media platitudes. This piece is so sharp, well-argued, and personally vulnerable - all the qualities you’ve convinced me are missing from Molly Jong-Fast’s memoir. I read an excerpt a few days ago, and it disturbed me, too, for many of the same reasons. I also thought it was very poorly written (that faux self-awareness and “should I say that?” you mention). The mostly positive reviews stagger me.
I thought she was writing about her mother in ways I never would, and I had a problematic artist mother myself. In fact, I’ve been doing some memoir writing about my mother, but my focus has been on her art and the dissonance within myself. Big ego, mental illness, nastiness - you can’t separate an artist from their work.
One of my biggest rules as a personal nonfiction writer and teacher of this form is that you should never expose other people more than you expose yourself. Molly JF may think she’s done that my talking about her own recovery, but based on what I’ve read, she hasn’t looked hard enough at herself to figure out why she wrote this. It saddens me enormously that nobody pushed her to go deeper and to exhibit kindness as well as daughterly hurt.
I often wondered, while reading it, where her editor was. Did she even have one? I mean that not just about the exposures but about the writing itself, which has good moments but many more awkward, juvenile moments. There are so many places that really needed a red pen—and I’m not just talking about the poop in the bed (that’s more an “ethical” concern than an aesthetic one—although I’ve been thinking about the ways they are intertwined, and how great writers can give us something wonderful even though we hate some of the things they say) but all the silly, self-indulgent asides and parenthetical remarks. She’s a good journalist (although not a particular penetrating one) but she’s not a writer.
Definitely — I would have edited this a lot, just at the line level. The problem may be that she's had little experience with personal essay writing or memoir, but her journalistic background should have been helpful, too. I'm a strong believer in first-person journalism, which connects a sharp observing eye on the world with acknowledging your own biases. But If you do nod to to your own uncertainty and biases, you need more then the self-referential asides of social media ("can I say that? don't be a hater!") Journalists often begin my classes assuming that's what it means to "get personal." It's the opposite: if you have an impulse to make such an aside, you either know it is true — you are being mean — or feel ashamed or uncomfortable. Examining your own discomfort and culpability and making meaning of your life is the point, not piling on a less-than-perfect mother who now has dementia.
I also wondered where her editor was, and I concluded that the person was hands-off at best, negligent at worst. I also think the book showed signs of more editorly neglect the farther in I read, which is a very bad sign, such unevenness. Publishing houses don't put the kinds of resources into authors that they used to, and unless a writer is very skilled and can marshal her own resources, it shows in a book's weaknesses. (Here I mean both the writing and the self-indulgence without a critical eye toward her reporting of her own experience.)
I agree, Sara. I suspect whoever was editing or reviewing her manuscript just accepted her premises without questioning them. That is lousy editing, but many books that receive little developmental editing are now published by big houses. Authors are expected to find their own peer editors and readers (as you can see by the burgeoning of acknowledgments sections). But you need to find peer readers who *will* question you and push back.
I feel like there's such a multilayered and productive dialogue about the "Mother Wound" to be had here, one that could lead to new models for connection.
I love this idea, Alisa — it would be a fine anthology, especially if it included different perspectives. This discussion also made me think of Nancy Friday's "My Mother's Garden," which I remember really spoke to me when I read it decades ago. Maybe I'll read that again :-)
Thank you. My mother and I are (were- she’s been gone awhile) both second wave feminists. I had unusual, brilliant, often oblivious, sometimes neglectful parents myself, and I wrestle with their legacy. I cannot imagine writing a memoir of this ilk. I read a couple of reviews, and cannot understand how this elucidates anything important for the public understanding of either mother or daughter. Write it out in long hand, get it all on the page, share it with your therapist. But don’t inflict this on the world.
I’ve never been of the opinion that just because you feel it or think that’s a good enough reason to write about it. I felt this way with many of the Op Eds about Biden, in the days before the debate, when there wasn’t even any cause for concern. More and more, writing—whether journalistic or literary—seems to be something that everyone feels they have a “right” to do. Well, yeah, they have a “right”—but that doesn’t mean it’s worthy—or (as in the Biden case) that it won’t cause damage. Or that it’s great writing—which this book isn’t, although it’s being reviewed as though it is. (If it actually was a great piece of writing, I might feel differently about it.) But my opinion, judging from the reviews of MJF’s book, is a minority view.
Since my sister and I take care of our mother, who has dementia, then I would say that Jong-Fast's memoir could be deeply offensive to those of us dealing with our loved one's limitations. I can certainly understand why you were haunted by the book. There are so many degrees of old age and dementia, and yes, my mother was unable to wash herself and we did not discover all of her limitations until she smelled. Do we shame children when they don't know how to wash themselves well enough? Because a parent with dementia ends up being like a child who needs direction. We have help for our mom now, and I help her myself, caring for her just as I cared for my children and my grandchildren, when they needed direction. Thank you for writing this piece..I know what not to read this year!
AND It’s not as though MJF actually washed or physically tended her mother, either. She visited her daily (and briefly) and then (after the turd, she tells us) found a top-of-the-line, expensive care home for Erica and her husband. This isn’t a memoir of how it feels to tend a person who once was vital and now is declining. That’s an entirely different “genre”and—as you say—an entirely different experience, heartbreaking even when there are resentments from the past. I don’t see much heartbreak in this book, despite all the “I adore my mother” proclamations.
Oh Susan, this piece is extraordinary. On so many levels. Thank you. I am so grateful for you and your writing. It helps to keep me grounded in these ever-shifting realities that we continue to cope with and attempt to navigate. I've read most of Jong's books. Her writing was essential for the times. And for me. That her daughter has not read any of her works (including her poetry, I assume) is flabbergasting. My favorite of Jong's books (at least as I recall) was "How To Save Your Own Life." (For those who are not familiar, this was a novel, not a self-help book.) And although I can't recall much about the content/plot of the book (other than she left a husband), the emotion memory remains. Maybe it helped me to save my own life in some way. I'm going to pull it off the shelf and reread to find out. Thank you again for your essential and timely work. Your thoughts on ageism are spot on. As Bonnie already wrote on this thread, "This is of tremendous service."
I can’t tell you—although I just am!!—what a comment like this means to me. More and more, I feel as though I’m writing for people like you, many of whom are women of my generation (or in that general territory), who appreciate having me speak “for them” and against the grain of our current culture. This was a very, very hard piece for me to gather my fortitude to write, and I still don’t feel recovered from it!! But I had to write it, and I love you for being so generous and emotionally open in your response to it.
Thank you. Reading Erica's work compelled me to be a writer. I'm not sure how I feel about this memoir with all its messy contradictions, and you're right, Molly can't have it both ways. Pick one side of the road and stick to it. You've given us a lot to consider, as always.
Thanks, Linda. I really don’t mind the mess—although a better writer would have given us the mess differently. Messy is one thing. It’s the stuff of life. But cruelty without purpose which won’t even own itself isn’t just a “contradiction,” it’s bad faith.
Thank you for doing your caregiving so respectfully and empathetically. No matter how hurt you were by your mother, it’s just cruel to go into this level of detail about her difficulties. MJF may be unpleasantly surprised when she reaches old age.
The book sounds truly awful and positive reviews bullshit hype. I am appalled by what you’ve reported. The entire book seems plain mean. I mean, I don’t know if Erika ever got sober but the fact that Molly is sober and has been for 26 years, I kinda would expect a more sympathetic betrayal of her alcoholic mother who after all had the same illness her daughter does and it is an illness make no mistake
I do like memoirs and was interested in this new book. Even though I have not read any of Erica Jong's work I do remember her literary exposure here in Ireland in the 80s and 90s. I have seen it get favourable reviews but this critical article, written with such precision and care, provides a different perspective. Given that Jong is in poor health now the question that arises for me is 'what is the purpose of such a book in the grand scheme of things and who benefits?'
Good question. What IS the purpose? Sometimes I think writing books has become something that we no longer expect a purpose for. If you have the right connections and believe that “anyone can be a writer” then you get to write a book. And in the case of the well-known, make a bunch of money. And get even more well-known. Bookstores make me nauseous nowadays, I don’t like browsing in them anymore.
You’ve left us with very much to think about, Susan. I’d heard Ms. Jong-Fast’s book variously described as “moving,” and compared with “Crying in H-Mart,” and assumed her mother was either no longer living, or that her personality was lost to advanced Alzheimer’s disease. Apparently Erica Jong is very much with us, although somewhat altered. Your piece reminded me poignantly of my own mother, who was able to end her very long life at home with the help of two caregivers, Polish-American sisters who plied our Ukrainian-born mom with the Eastern European cooking and ambience she relished. I’m sure that in very great old age, situations such as Ms Jong-Fast described may have occurred, but they would have been dealt with tactfully, and she always appeared beautifully turned out, as she loved to be.
Now I’m going to read your review of that book by Jake Tapper, may his name be erased (as my maternal ancestors would have said). It should be a treat.
I suspect that many people, hearing about the book or reading reviews, imagine that Erica Jong is dead. Which says a lot in itself.
I hope you like the Tapper review. I sure hope to be reviewing something some day soon that I can give some love. Sure wasn’t that book!!
There is a place for a review that well and truly lets a bad book have it. Usually I don’t enjoy these reviews, because they’re like taking a sledgehammer to a butterfly, but in this case your arguments were perfectly solid and more than deserved, and applied to a malevolent book that was doing real harm in rewriting history. Tapper and Thompson have had the backing of sympathetic media to shore up their positions. It has not helped.
These are the usual questions raised by biography, especially of still living people. Elizabeth Gaskell’s biography of Charlotte Brontë attracted exactly this sort of reproach, as did Angelica Bell’s account of her mother, Vanessa Bell https://www.nybooks.com/articles/1985/10/24/what-maisie-didnt-know/. Philip Roth’s account of his father’s death is the ultimate betrayal of a parent, in these terms. Myself, I I think Erica Jong had it right, or, as Norah Ephron’s mother said to her daughter, everything is copy.
I’ll take “Heartburn” over “How To Lose Your Mother” any day. It’s funnier, smarter, and doesn’t pretend to be “nice.”
Actually it was this one https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1995/06/05/a-house-of-ones-own
I had an uneasy feeling when I read something in the Atlantic ( or somewhere ? - failing memory- early dementia? ) the other day about the young Jong-Fast - thanks Susan for doing the hard lifting with it so eloquently - I don't need to read it now.
Thanks so much Melinda. This wasn’t an easy piece to write and I almost decided not to. But I had to.
I listened to Terry Gross’ interview with MJF yesterday, before reading this of course, or either of the referenced books, and there was an uneasiness inside of me (and I thought in Terry’s reactions at times)…while listening. I will read the books before claiming any true right to criticize, but in the information that MJF shared of her own volition, i felt a metaphorical pinching of the nostrils, furrowing of the brow….like walking into a room with a bad smell.
I haven’t heard that interview, and I have to admit I’m sort of reassured/gratified that you were made uneasy by it. And am intrigued by your sensing that Terry Gross might have felt that way too. My piece is so against the grain of current reactions to the book, it’s made me wonder whether I’m a relic (and I don’t mean just age, but sensibilities in this culture. Well, maybe I am, but at least I’ve discovered there are quite a few other relics, too!
I know what you mean. I felt myself searching for what I was “over dramatizing” bc maybe I was missing something. But my internal self, my “mother” self, must have thought subconsciously how horrible it would be if one of my 4 children held such flippant regard for my feelings or my dignity. It may just be us, but oh well. That is the beauty of subjective interpretation isn’t it? Thanks again for writing such a compelling critique. You are not alone. 😊
This is of tremendous service. Thanks!
You’re welcome!
Oh, boy, will I have a lot to say and mull about this book, which is sitting unopened on my e-reader. Terrific piece, Susan. I remember Fear of Flying and the Erica Jong phenomenon. I expect Molly’s memoir will trouble me.
Oh, boy, do I look forward to hearing what you think of it!! (BTW, really glad to hear about the response to your sister’s recommendation of your stack. Your note on it was probably the first mention of sub numbers that didn’t annoy me. But wow, what a difference the rec of a well-known person can make on substack!)
Started reading last night. My hackles go up when she says she shouldn’t say what she is saying. Either say what you mean without apology or shut up. It’s unlikely I’ll shut up after reading this book.
My thoughts exactly. And also why I had to say what I said in my piece without apology!
Excellent, honest review. I reserved the book from my library, but now I'm not sure I even want to read it. I'm 76 and was never a particular fan of Erica Jong's, but this memoir just sounds cruel, exploitative, and distasteful.
I’m midway through Molly’s book, though not with the relish with which I typically read new ones (I devoured Alison Bechdel’s “Spent” in a single sitting). Yes, it’s the cruelty I notice. This is not the Molly I like on television, who made me ashamed of considering her just another nepo baby when she published a book while still in tender years, near the age I first devoured “Fear of Flying” with guilty thrills after a Calvinistic childhood.
Thank you, Susan, for putting several fingers on what disquieted me.