Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake: A Memoir of a Woman's Life (origineel 2012; editie 2013)

I’m a 71-year-old male, so I wouldn’t say I’m among Quindlen’s intended audience when she wrote this book. That would most likely be female readers. I’m sure this book was very popular with book clubs since there is so much to discuss. So why did I listen to the audio book version (read by Quindlen herself)? I spent 40 years in a high school English classroom, and during the last years of my teaching I used Quindlen’s brilliant essay “A Quilt of a Country” in my ninth grade classes. The essay was one of Quindlen’s Newsweek columns and was written and published shortly after the attack on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the field in Pennsylvania. As a teacher of writing I’ve always enjoyed reading Quindlen, whether it’s fiction or nonfiction. And I enjoyed “Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake” just as much as her other writing even though I don’t think she was writing to me. In fact, I’m not so sure Quindlen understands men all that well. And I don’t say that with any rancor; it’s just my impression after finishing this book. Additionally, as many Amazon reviews point out, it’s hard to view Quindlen as an “everywoman” considering where she came from (convent school) and where she went (Barnard College, and apartment in Manhattan, and a “country home”). So she doesn’t particularly represent the rest of us, but what she has to say about life is valuable to just about any reader. And her comments on family and the raising of her own children are certainly worth the price of admission. So, overall, I enjoyed “Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake” even if Quindlen had a completely different reader in mind when she wrote the book of essays. ( )

A book ostensibly written for women who are growing older, but the look at life that Quindlen takes is applicable for all adults. The only negative note is that the examples she gives are those primarily of the 1%--the city house and the country house, for example, and how they support her life--while the lives of the working class and how they might find meaning are much less clear. Having written that last comment, though, I must remember that one should write about what you know, and Quindlen is indeed writing about what she knows. ( )

Wonderful. Anna Quindlen at sixty has a lot of wisdom to share, and she writes eloquently as always on aging, death, marriage, friendship, motherhood, etc. The Reading Group guide at the end of the e-book edition I read, which lets us sit in on a little chat between Quindlen and her good friend Meryl Streep (!), was a delicious little cherry-on-top voyeuristic capper to a really enjoyable read. ( )

First of all, despite what the cover claims, this isn't a memoir. It's a collection of short essays about the writer's life, but it isn't once cohesive work that could reasonably be called a memoir in my opinion. Second, I should say up front that this isn't a book I would have picked up to read for myself, but it was a gift, so I dived in. I can't, however, say that I actually enjoyed it.

Quindlen's essays here are clearly built for her long-time fans who already know her and love her. And while there's nothing wrong with the writing itself, nothing about this told me why or how she's developed such a longtime following. Most of these essays portrayed her as self-absorbed and fairly spoiled--not someone I want to spend a few hundred pages with. Maybe women who have nothing better to do than talk on the phone with a best friend for an hour every day and go shopping and redecorate their homes will relate to her, but a lot of pieces of this made me cringe in a "Women like this actually exist out there?" kind of way. Making it worse, none of the so-called wisdom here is anything new, though it's often portrayed as such, making it clear that the writer thinks herself pretty smart enough though it often felt like she was just communicating common sense, or lessons that have been communicated over and over again over the years via heftier pieces of literature and other memoirists.

This might have been better if the author hadn't thought herself so clever, but it really did feel like she just loved to hear herself talk/write, and thought everyone else would, as well.

As I mentioned, I know this writer has a loyal following and a great reputation.... but there's nothing here that would lead me to recommend this book. ( )

My dear Aunt Gina sent me a hardcover copy so I was inclined to read this, and then our book club chose it. We muddled through a discussion of marriage (p.22-23) and argued about whether she would call herself an alcoholic or not (p.60). Our favorite part, hands down, was p.89-90 where she discussed the stories/lies we tell ourselves. Since I am the sole practicing Catholic in the group, someone asked me what I thought of her discussion of church and faith. I thought she nailed it herself in saying that she just did not go deeper. "I'm stuck too close to the surface."
Hard to recommend this book to anyone other than those who already love her but then: there are many who do.

p.s. Three days later: it often takes awhile for a book to percolate. I realize there is a part of the text which we did not discuss and which is rising repeatedly to the surface these past couple of days: Anna Quindlan's discussion of our loss of power as we age. It's terrifying, this diminishment. We fantasize (tell our self story-lies) but it becomes increasingly clear as we age that we lose - everything. ( )