Kinda hard to fairly rate this as an entity separate from the Kubrick film. I can definitely say from the pages the story hits a little more softly, although the age differentials between characters and victims is much more grim. Having watched this movie so many times as a teenager that the lines are blazed into my mind, I didn't have any problem decoding the lingo. Overall, fine. Nothing too remarkable for a 21st century audience.

3.5 stars really. This was a used book store find that I'd never seen in terms of Joyce criticism and it was engaging enough. A couple of very strong essays, a few ones that drifted. But for being a slim text, there was a lot to say.

Any time I pick up a Roddy Doyle book, odds are I'll like it. The reviews that essential say this isn't a "GOOD" collection are correct, however, a couple of the stories are very, very good. On the other hand, two early stories gave me the ick so hard I considered just skipping this altogether. Anyway, probably worth it for Doyle fans but it won't win over first timers.

This is really 3.5, even 3.75 stars. And I don't feel like a fair assessor at all but rather someone who reads a lot of memoirs and doesn't too deeply care about the Broadway stage. While Fierstein has a conversational and intimate voice, once he hits the Fiddler On The Roof stride I struggled to maintain interest. I also think the extremely linear, each-chapter-a-year presentation has a certain impact on the reader, as opposed to a more free flowing memoir that pays more thorough attention to, and elongates, the most interesting parts of one's life. I feel guilty, because this isn't bad in any way! I was just never a theater kid per se and I was most interested in Harvey's coming of age and young artist years.

"The Idiot That Therefore I Am," I mumbled as I popped two Aspirin

Weird. I had some very incomplete feelings after finishing, and only then did I peep at other reviews. Guess it's not just me. I hate to admit it, but I feel more and more like giving up my pursuit to hit the same DeLillo high as White Noise and Mao II. And actually, I quite enjoyed The Angel Esmeralda and found the short story format a good fit. My problem here is that I feel like I read a thing and yet did not. I feel like I drifted in and out of a protagonist's mildly depressed wonderings while my mind went elsewhere. I was and aways am compelled by couples-love-transforming-around-death storylines, and yet I barely remember what happened, and unfortunately didn't really care. The thing that got my attention, by far, was his indulgent use of fragmented sentences with no predicate. Sparingly, my guy. Some of your readers may be ELA teachers and go too far and it's like nails on a chalkboard. I am really truly not a grammar snob, but each move and stylistic choice should have intention.

"I remember that life in that room seemed to be occurring beneath the sea. Time flowed past indifferently above us; hours and days had no meaning."

"I scarcely know how to describe the room. It became, in a way, every room I had ever been in and every room I find myself in hereafter will remind me of Giovanni's room. I did not really stay there very long- we met before spring began and I left there during the summer- but it seems to me that I spent a lifetime there. Life in that room seemed to be occurring underwater, as I say, and it is certain that I underwent a sea change there."

I cannot conceive of how anyone could give Giovanni's Room less than five stars. Baldwin is able to convey such a very specific flavor of lovelorn, of the feelings of disgust that can coexist with love, of the preciousness of a perfect and brief period between two people that burns out too quickly. It hurt to read, it made me feel romantically nostalgic, and it filled me with appreciation for the written word. James Baldwin is peerlessness everlasting.

Reread in memorial. What a delight, what an astronomical time to be alive and witness David Lynch. One of those rare creators who without any sort of pretense, just is simply a walking embodiment of art. And so clearly universally loved by those who worked for him. I watched my first Lynch film in 7th grade (yikes), bought this book 23 years ago (yikes), and I'm sure I will cherish his work into eternity.

Oh. About the book. Yeah! It's decent and I do love the angle of treating each art project like a little well-researched portfolio. I caught things I didn't remember from my first read ages ago.