Julie and Julia was one of my favorite books.  I used to read it over and over again and I suppose the reason why was that I really identified with Julie's plight.  Just like her I was out of college, married young and aimlessly working at bureaucratic jobs with the somewhat egotistical gut feeling that I was born for something more.  Maybe I didn't find myself through french cooking but I identified with her struggle and her relationship with her husband.  When I turned 30 my friends cooked me the cake she makes in Julie and Julia.  I mean that's HOW MUCH I used to talk about the book.

So I was pretty psyched when she published a second book... but uh, it wasn't for me.  The second book was about her foray into butchery and her affair.  To be clear, I know that stuff happens in life.  Marriages aren't fairy-tale Taylor Swift songs and well.. stuff happens... but I just didn't get this book.  I didn't feel like it went anywhere and at the end it didn't feel like she had clear perspective on everything that happened in her life.   To be fair maybe this is because I did not identify at all with her marital problems.  If anything I found them disconcerting?

So, uh... I can't really recommend it which is a bummer because I think Julie Powell is a great writer and I wanted to cheer her on.  Seriously though, this book left me depressed and confused and not in a good way at all.

Posted on April 28, 2010 and filed under Nothing to Do with Anything.