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July 12, 2006

I Couldn't Have Said It Better...

In yet another instance of "A Really Great Book I Just Read That Billed Itself As a Memoir But Is Probably Actually Fiction," I recently finished a book called Belle de Jour: The Diary of an Unlikely Call Girl. Just like with A Million Little Pieces, I thought it was a great book, written in an unusual style. I 'm glad I read it. And just like with Mr. Frey's book, I probably wouldn't have picked it up if I had realzed it was not actually a memoir, but more of a novel. In fact, Belle de Jour is quite possibly entirely fictitious, having actually, it is surmised, been written by a man. (The author is listed as anonymous.)

This stuff fascinates me. Both the fact that some novelists are calling their works memoirs in order to get published and the fact that I have now read two books that might not have otherwise piqued my interest because they're not the type of fiction I normally read. And yet, they are what I would call good books. Not only are they well-written and evocative, but they do (for me anyway) what good literature is supposed to do. They bring up issues I have to think about and tussle with.

And sometimes they just say something in a way I would love to be able to claim as my own:

...note to world leaders: in an age where the highest-selling female artist worldwide can drunkenly trip down the aisle in jeans and a garter only to have the transaction annulled twenty-four hours later, but committed life partners cannot call each other wife and wife, something is a little rotten in the state of Denmark. --from Belle de Jour by Anonymous

Exactly. Where are our priorities?

Posted by sally at July 12, 2006 10:04 AM

Comments

Posted by: desiree at July 12, 2006 01:21 PM

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