I hate when people try to compare this to the movies. Apart from the silent movie they have nothing to do with this story, except that the characters and the plot are almost the same. Same goes with the musical. Although enjoyable as its own, it has a completely different approach to the situation. The book just has more depth and is overall a great gothic twist of the basic Beauty and the Beast folklore. It's not scary for modern readers, yet it is a wonderful and twisted love story. Then again, love story might be the wrong word, perhaps unrequited love story suits the story better. I find Christine completely unlovable and though sympathetic, Erik is still a psychopathic killer with abandonment issues, therefore suiting to the role of a villain more than well. However, I dare you not to feel sorry for him.

Same category as Lord of the Rings. I liked reading about Elves and how everything started but overall it didn't interest me any more than the said trilogy.

If Valley of the Dolls (1966) is the glamorous and excessive cousin of Peyton Place (1956), The Best of Everything is the Seconal-sedated twin of Valley of the Dolls. The Jekyll of the Hyde. Booze is flowing, but in a sophisticated Mad Men fashion. In case your blind date is a twat, just order loads of drinks in succession.

Chick lit is still a problematic genre for me, but instead of having another Bridget Jones's Diary (2001) experience, The Best of Everything was pretty entertaining. I liked the smuttiness of Valley of the Dolls more, but The Best of Everything had a relaxing smoothness to it. It's the time period and everything that comes with it, like the experiences of working women in a world of men, that instantly makes the story more interesting and the plight of the characters more engaging.

The characters, unfortunately, are less interesting. There's a lot of naiveté going around, and the moment when you realize that one of the women is clinging to her former man like she was drowning, you also notice you don't care about the women at all. Like in Valley of the Dolls, they define themselves through men, but because of the more everyday and conventional tone of the novel it gets tiring after a while.

The stories are prolonged for way too long and the underlying message against single life is the cherry on a moldy sundae. Honestly, the plot twist at the end is just terrible, because it doesn't fit the rest of the book at all. It's like Jaffe was trying to stick something scandalous in there to hammer her point home, but it destroys all credibility and ends up in the daytime soap territory.

Jaffe was clearly trying to concoct a moral tale about the dangers of a big city, but I'm not surprised that many girls were instead inspired to move there. Life in New York City might be difficult, even dangerous, and subject you to sexual harassment at the office, but it's also an adventure (at least that's what I imagine the girls were thinking). The lack of personality in the married zombies and in those who aspired to become zombies was so horrifying, though, that it's difficult to imagine Jaffe thought things through regarding character development and her audience (would the 1950s readers have been tempted to aim towards marriage and nothing else because of Jaffe's characters?).

Still, The Best of Everything is a quick and light read. It doesn't even remotely try to melt your brain, and better yet, instead of relying on a simple happy ending, the ending is kind of ambiguous and makes it seem like some of the characters have an uncertain future. The world of a working girl was tough in the 50s, and the lack of sugar coating might appeal to modern audiences, too. It's not like sexism or sexual harassment have disappeared from the working places, but Jaffe's novel definitely makes you appreciate the improvement of working conditions.

A perfect escape, when I can only afford to take short breaks at a time from studying. Like Tales from the Crypt, one of my favourite tv shows and which is based on the 1950s EC Comics series, these stories are ridiculously campy but so much fun. I also love the art of vintage comics, although in this one the way colour has been used makes some frames a bit smudgy.

Unlike in the case of The Tenant, Roman Polanski's source material proved to be far inferior to the film here. Even my mother who hates horror and suspense remembers the film, and she got chills when she found out what I was reading. Oh well...

Rosemary is a bit bland and little girl-ish as a character (like Mia Farrow is in the film, but she just had enough charisma so that I wasn't bothered about it), who luckily before the ending starts to show some sort of taking control of the situation. On the other hand, the revelation concerning the baby is a big cliché and kind of ridiculous. Levin's writing style was awkward and sometimes reminded me of a movie script.

Maybe this was due to me having seen the movie, but the naivety and blindness of Rosemary started to annoy me because I already knew the Castevets' secret. The book wasn't particularly creepy even for psychological horror. Levin didn't manage to create any atmosphere, and the monotonically told daily chores mainly just made me yawn. The dream scene and the ending were a small improvement and a nice change to the flatness. It's also always nice and relaxing (yes, for me it's usually that) to read these classic horror novels, even if they don't get to the level of the famous films based on them.

3.5 stars. I wish I could have read this back in the day of of the publication. Being the 1950s, it must have been a real shock to read something that is absolutely as effective today. If someone hasn't yet heard about Norman Bates and his mommy issues, I'd be really surprised. There are certain iconic film moments that are etched into the popular culture memory, and that Janet Leigh's shower scene is one of them. The movie is better in my opinion, it really creeped me out when I finally got around seeing it a while back. Even if I hadn't seen it before reading the book, I wouldn't have been able to separate myself from the movie since the basic story was already so familiar.

That's why I couldn't enjoy myself as much with the book when I knew exactly what would happen, which actually applies to almost all situations where I read the book after seeing the movie. However, I would very much recommend this to those who don't care about the modern torture porn (in film or in literature). There really are some fine moments (such as the changing point of view, which works quite well), and if it happens that for some reason you are not familiar with the story you'll probably be seriously mindfucked. Good horror also gives you something to think about. In this case it's the definition of a villain. In what respects you are responsible for your actions, if... well, I'll leave the spoiler out just in case ;)

If a book is written from a child's point of view, I tend to skip it. That was the reason why I was putting this off, even though I was interested in the topic and liked the fact that it was set in the South in the 1930s. I also wanted to see why this is considered as one of the greatest American novels of all time. Well, I did see where people were coming from and why this is such a loved story, especially in the United States. It had this charming and nostalgic atmosphere, which made me want to go back in time when I was a carefree child. Had I read this during the summer, I would have had a glass of lemonade in my hand while sitting on the garden swing in a warm breeze of wind.

Lee knows how to evoke the sweet childhood alongside the serious undertone of the trial and racial issues. It soon becomes clear that the prejudice and mean-spiritedness towards certain groups of people is incomprehensible to children, which I personally think shows that it is completely unnecessary and ridiculous. In the story one of the teachers abhors Hitler's actions, but at the same time says that it was about time someone taught the Negroes a lesson because they didn't stay in their proper place anymore. What a load of crappy hypocrisy, Ms. Whatever-her-name-was. I would also say (based on the book and my own experiences) that racism is a completely learned behaviour. Children repeat what they hear at home, they don't even necessarily know the meaning of the words they're spitting out, let alone why it is wrong to say such things.

However, had I read this earlier in life it would have probably worked a lot better for me. I'd say that this would serve its purpose in schools' compulsory reading lists. Adolescents at a certain stage in their lives would take out a lot from this. I understand why people love this so much, but at the same time I can't consider it as nothing more than one of many canonical classics. Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath for example is in my opinion many ways far superior, whereas Lee falls short in both her writing and characterizations (mostly with the children).