SongDragon
08-03-2008, 09:27 PM
I cannot give you any spoilers because I have not yet made it past page fifty-two. if you think this is too early a time for rave reviews you're wrong. At least not where first impressions are concerned. I will, however, be mentioning page numbers. If you skip ahead to find out what I'm talking about that's your own fault. Really. So before I even write up about the picnic I have to tell you about this fabulous autobiography, "Society's Child" that is sort of a chick flick, sort of a novel, and sort a diary, with the truth seen by a singer-songwriter we all know and love: Janis Ian. And I do appologize if this 'review' seems strangely written, as it wasn't meant as a review, but more of an emotional commentary. I had to stop thinking of the character of this book as someone I had never met, because in my mind I never read autobiographies. Even worse it was 'non-fiction', a horror word in my vocabulary. Of course I was planning on finishing my book (a proper fictional story) first. Things don't always go the way you plan, though. Dad had ended up packing for me as I was out at breakfast and he wanted to make sure the hotel didn't charge us for an extra night, so that book was in my other bag and "Society's Child" was in reach. Begin.
Truthfully I am not an overly emotional reader. I cry easily, I laugh, I get hyper, but all of that is in person, where my emotions seem to go haywire anyway. All of you that went to the picnic, you found out what a spazz I could be. And some of you know how scared I can be, hiding out, wondering what I should say. As far as books and movies go, though, I rarely cry, and I normally laugh where it is expected of me socially. It doesn't mean my mind is turned off and I'm not feeling the emotions, but they don't come out the same, especially not when I talk about them. When I write about them it is completely different. So while I didn't cry or laugh heartily while reading "Society's Child" yet I was surprised to find myself going through the emotions close to tears or laughter. Several passages I read alloud for my family. Reading p. 25 we all laughed and clapped for the first full paragraph on that page: we were very familiar. This was great. It was entertaining. I could relate to some of it. We weren't so similar I was struck by lightning or anything, but as with any great author there was something there for everyone. I don't think I could say the same thing if I read Donald Trump's autobiography. Then again, we're all human, so why not?
Okay, that's all well and good. Then something truly struck me. As in I mean: ouch. As I said, I don't talk very well. I write wonderfully, so you've all heard of my woes through highschool and two years of college so far, including some of my past history. I don't want to give much away, but all I can say to Janis for p. 30-35. It can't have been easy to discuss. Even when someone from my family gently tries to discuss it I cannot. I do not mind if they read about me saying it, but I cannot speak about it, and it's one of the few things I can't even write about. In fact I blanked it out almost so completely it didn't exist. I never 'need' to talk about it. But thank you, and I love you, and thank you. Reading it I almost cried, but I did not want to explain why I was all of a sudden sobbing on Interstate 81 North, heading home. I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't even bring it up, but thank you.
Other than that I have to say I was chuckling, reading more and more sections alloud, with Caroline and Dad in the car, all of us newly laughing at the stories we had heard before. There is so much color there! I thought it would be a difficult read, but it is amazing. And I'm only on page fifty-three. I am going to recommend this book to everyone I know not as an autobiography, which might make them groan and roll their eyes at my 'obsession' with my hero, but as a good read. Thank you for sharing with us both the good and the bad. It makes it seem real and readable. It is not a simple run-down of events, places, and names. I had confessed to a few Rudies on the board that, even before I opened it, I thought it would be a hard read because I read science fiction and fantasy, friends my books call 'fluffy stuff' and 'school books' because they're the books that they force you to read and disect. I also read poetry, but that was only after an amazing teacher showed me how to read and understand it. Never in my wildest fantasies did I believe anyone could show me anything 'amazing' about autobiographies. I was wrong! I am proud and pleased and overjoyed to admit that I was wrong and thank Janis Ian (yet again) for this beautiful book. It's going to get smudged fingerprints on it, and have creases, and be bent, no matter how careful I try to be, but that's okay, it's the mark of a well-read book in my family. My heart aches with the pent-up emotions of a car ride even more, so I'll take leave of the board and leave you with a not-so-sober note: Sorry for any typos, sore spots, or missed spoilers! I was in a hurry to get it out of my system and onto paper. I probably even messed up saying it this time; I'm sorry for the rush.
~SongDragon
Truthfully I am not an overly emotional reader. I cry easily, I laugh, I get hyper, but all of that is in person, where my emotions seem to go haywire anyway. All of you that went to the picnic, you found out what a spazz I could be. And some of you know how scared I can be, hiding out, wondering what I should say. As far as books and movies go, though, I rarely cry, and I normally laugh where it is expected of me socially. It doesn't mean my mind is turned off and I'm not feeling the emotions, but they don't come out the same, especially not when I talk about them. When I write about them it is completely different. So while I didn't cry or laugh heartily while reading "Society's Child" yet I was surprised to find myself going through the emotions close to tears or laughter. Several passages I read alloud for my family. Reading p. 25 we all laughed and clapped for the first full paragraph on that page: we were very familiar. This was great. It was entertaining. I could relate to some of it. We weren't so similar I was struck by lightning or anything, but as with any great author there was something there for everyone. I don't think I could say the same thing if I read Donald Trump's autobiography. Then again, we're all human, so why not?
Okay, that's all well and good. Then something truly struck me. As in I mean: ouch. As I said, I don't talk very well. I write wonderfully, so you've all heard of my woes through highschool and two years of college so far, including some of my past history. I don't want to give much away, but all I can say to Janis for p. 30-35. It can't have been easy to discuss. Even when someone from my family gently tries to discuss it I cannot. I do not mind if they read about me saying it, but I cannot speak about it, and it's one of the few things I can't even write about. In fact I blanked it out almost so completely it didn't exist. I never 'need' to talk about it. But thank you, and I love you, and thank you. Reading it I almost cried, but I did not want to explain why I was all of a sudden sobbing on Interstate 81 North, heading home. I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't even bring it up, but thank you.
Other than that I have to say I was chuckling, reading more and more sections alloud, with Caroline and Dad in the car, all of us newly laughing at the stories we had heard before. There is so much color there! I thought it would be a difficult read, but it is amazing. And I'm only on page fifty-three. I am going to recommend this book to everyone I know not as an autobiography, which might make them groan and roll their eyes at my 'obsession' with my hero, but as a good read. Thank you for sharing with us both the good and the bad. It makes it seem real and readable. It is not a simple run-down of events, places, and names. I had confessed to a few Rudies on the board that, even before I opened it, I thought it would be a hard read because I read science fiction and fantasy, friends my books call 'fluffy stuff' and 'school books' because they're the books that they force you to read and disect. I also read poetry, but that was only after an amazing teacher showed me how to read and understand it. Never in my wildest fantasies did I believe anyone could show me anything 'amazing' about autobiographies. I was wrong! I am proud and pleased and overjoyed to admit that I was wrong and thank Janis Ian (yet again) for this beautiful book. It's going to get smudged fingerprints on it, and have creases, and be bent, no matter how careful I try to be, but that's okay, it's the mark of a well-read book in my family. My heart aches with the pent-up emotions of a car ride even more, so I'll take leave of the board and leave you with a not-so-sober note: Sorry for any typos, sore spots, or missed spoilers! I was in a hurry to get it out of my system and onto paper. I probably even messed up saying it this time; I'm sorry for the rush.
~SongDragon