delicioustacos

God damn- you know what I really do not want to do? Is read this fucking book for my boss.  Yet another goddamn fucking 400 page book from (REDACTED AGENT) about rich women in New York, wives of bankers who live in the Upper East Side and in the Hamptons, jockeying for status over certain addresses and their ability to hire certain in-demand caterers for their weddings.  But oh no, a slightly more old money WASPy family has secured this caterer, or worse still, some noveau riche provincial, or Russian, with much more money than the Jewish but still Spence and Harvard type WASP-assimilated protagonists.  I cannot stand to read even one more word about this world.  Particularly another word written by a wealthy woman who comes form one or more generations of prosperous artists or novelists.  I cannot– this is some hideous punishment, you know, getting this call on Friday and knowing, knowing, that it was either (REDACTED WILLIAM MORRIS AGENT) or (REDACTED ICM AGENT)  calling with another book written by a woman in her 40’s who grew up somewhat but not cartoonishly wealthy on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, lampooning in what they think is microscopic detail the quirks of this demimonde, of like, bankers and stuff, and you know, delightfully skewering this world in a way that they think will be relatable to some person in St. Louis whose house was foreclosed on by some financial entity three times removed from the employers of the male side characters in the book, so you know, it’s of the moment. Continue reading →

Tags: literature