And that’s life according to both religious fundamentalists and Paris Hilton.
And why the pious angle?
Well, have just finished reading Jon Krakauer’s, ‘Under the banner of heaven.’
And it was no mean feat — I had to fight off fellow New York Public Library lenders to get a copy even a year after it was published. This meant a six-week wait — partly for fellow readers to return it and partly because the shelving backlog in the Mid-Manhattan library is so bad that a returned book takes a crazy number of weeks to make it back to the shelves. (They need my mom!)
The wait was worth it, and the read more relevant to understanding some of the “logic” of current affairs than it would have been to me a year ago. Can’t wait to discuss it with pal, MA, who will be here mere days from now :0)
The book took me back to my undergrad days, reading new journalism faction like Capote’s ‘In Cold Blood’ (a personal favourite) and Norman Mailer’s ‘Executioner’s Song.’ Krakauer is the new journalist par excellence of our time.
And after reading about the impact of some believers getting back to their Mormon roots; I then turned to Paris’ fundamental belief about hers. Bottom line: never expose your roots, especially if, like her, you’re a bottle blonde.
One has to pause and consider that this person and her ‘novel’ make the Elle character from Legally Blonde look like Einstein by comparison. I can only hope that somewhere there lurks a protobrain and that the book is indeed a purposefully ironic and self-deprecating.
(In case you wondered — cause I have an idea this is as close as anyone is going to get to ‘Confessions of an Heiress: A Tongue-in-Chic Peek Behind the Pose‘, it takes a minimum of three hair stylist visits a week to keep one’s roots under wraps.)
Another ‘book’ that just caught my eye, but that Jay has foresworn me not to buy (although, who knows if the NYPL has it on their acquisition list!), is: The Tinkerbell Hilton Diaries : My Life Tailing Paris Hilton. Tinkerbell, for the uninitiated, is Paris’ chihuahua.
This book is apprently written by Tinkerbell, you know, the same way that Paris wrote the former. Hah!