Review: I Shudder and Other Reactions to Life, Death, and New Jersey

I Shudder and Other Reactions to Life, Death, and New Jersey by Paul Rudnick
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

8 May 2021

Rudnick is wickedly funny, but also kind. "Sisters," the opening piece, is a memoir of his mother and aunts. He sees their quirks but he so obviously loves them, and somehow manages to convey his love for them and for John the doctor, without restraint or cliche. This is a person who really believes it is the thought that counts, and knows exactly what the giver's thought is. It's a rare quality this affectionate insight, so you understand the absurdity of meetings with Disney execs on the script of Sister Act, or Allen Carr's entourage, or Martha Stewart's "barely disguised inpatient sneer," but also what it takes to create popular hits like The Little Mermaid and Grease, or dinner party with Snoop Dogg.

And honestly, my adoration is great in part because I want to be that fond while still clear-eyed.

***

The only piece I didn't adore was [some of] Enter Trembling about Scott Rudin. There's a riff on how horrible he is, played for laughs because Rudnick is funny, contrasted with what a generous and thoughtful guy Rudin could be. The past is problematical.


***

8 April, 2023

Finishing up my admittedly languid re-read with the essay "Good Enogh to Eat." It is my favorite in a personal way: sugar is my favorite food group, followed by salt. As a child I was taken to a creperie that had pairs of sugar cubes custom-packaged. Was anything else ever so adult and so elegant? Certainly not adulthood.

My normal breakfast for most of my life has been the chocolate poptart with creme filling: so convenient and efficient! My husband believes in a food hierarchy in which processed foods containing few ingredients except sugar are anathema and unacceptable in a household with impressionable children. Not a problem since they are so easily kept in a drawer and since breakfast is better after at least one cup of coffee.

Halloween is in some ways a disappointment: there aren't any special treats, just the usual ones partitioned out into individually wrapped bites. But Easter, with the chocolate bunnies, Peeps, robin eggs, and Cadbury creme eggs with that amusing golden sugary yolk: that is a sacred occasion. The soul is a construct I find it impossible to believe in, let alone sell. But no greater love exists than for someone to give me a basket filled with my favorite seasonal treats.

That artificial "grass" is weird though.


Library copy

View all my reviews