The ending would have really been forced than, with him stepping into the role of hero, fulfilling Charlotte's teenage vision of him, and him saving himself by some recognition of some sort. I owe my life to what is known as a "Good Samaritan" someone who pulled me out of the flaming wreck so promptly that only my hair was burned, someone who laid me gently on the perimeter of the cornfield, called an ambulance, described my location with some precision and then, with a self-effacement that strikes me as perverse, not to mention un-American, chose to slink away anonymously rather than take credit for these sterling deeds.
Throughout, Egan's visions and revisions bound and rebound until the experience is the intellectual equivalent of a labrador flattening you on the sofa. But there is a lot here to mull over and enjoy, and if it lacks the pith and zest of Goon Squad, it certainly deserves its second chance on the bookshelves.
Why hope to snap a picture? Egan illuminates the difficulties of shaping an inner life in a culture obsessed with surfaces and asks whether "truth" can have any meaning in an era when reality itself has become a style.
I found myself at a strange crossroads. Of course, a different century was turning, and the technological differences between the two cultures are immense.
When the climax brings them all together, it feels at once implausible and wearily predictable, as so often with novels that have large casts. It just breaks my heart to see you hopelessly waiting in a spot he will never go past.
Young Charlotte, alienated from parents and friends, has come under the sway of two men: I'm only thinking of myself in this way because of my 8-hour shift yesterday that was an immersion into being in the presence of a real celebrity.
There was going to be no chance to meet him. An aside that goes along with the book.
They will not use the escalators, or the elevators. Try being a model whose lovely face is destroyed in a car crash. The shatterproof windshield did indeed hold fast upon its impact with my head, so although I broke virtually every bone in my face, I have almost no visible scars.
My face was numb, I saw with slurry double vision and had an odd sensation around my mouth as if my upper and lower teeth were out of whack. Her authentic-feeling details give a sense of unusual immediacy.
I could shelve books a few feet from where he was hanging out before going on stage. It kind of hurt my head to try to fathom why people act the way they do about celebrities. I hate to see people doing futile things, so if it's your dream of getting a blurry photo of someone like Johnny Depp as he walks past you while at our store don't wait around the escalators.
Written with powerful intelligence and grace,Look at Meclearly establishes Jennifer Egan as one of the most daring and gifted novelists of her generation. During her recovery in Rockford, she had met another Charlotte, the plain-looking teenage daughter of her former best friend.
Instead, it's the novel's vanishing point: It just breaks my heart to see you hopelessly waiting in a spot he will never go past. Maybe it's the residual hatred of 'rock-stars' that punk distilled in me, maybe it's something else.
I get the first, I don't feel the urge to meet celebrities myself, but I get the feeling. While an undergraduate, Egan dated Steve Jobswho installed a Macintosh computer in her bedroom. It was known that he wasn't going to sign anything. She began the book in the mids, long before the US succumbed to reality TV in the form of Survivor The Real Worldtheir equivalent of Big Brotherwas older but not so popularand when webcams were almost unheard of.
There is ample food for thought here, and Egan's musings on human identity and its inner scaffolding blossom into a compelling read, sure to leave readers thinking about these very real characters for some time to come.
Hans Fabermann, reconstructive surgeon extraordinaire. The accident happened at night during an August downpour on a deserted stretch of highway through corn and soybean fields, a few miles outside Rockford, Illinois, my hometown.Jennifer Egan’s novel, Manhattan Beach, has been awarded the Andrew Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Fiction.
Egan was born in Chicago and raised in San Francisco. She is also the author of The Invisible Circus, a novel which became a feature film starring Cameron Diaz inLook at Me. Look at Me has 9, ratings and 1, reviews. karen said: yay!
friends read books togeeeether! and now i can finally link our reviews!slcbrand.com /5(K). Sep 23, · LOOK AT ME. By Jennifer Egan. pp. New York: Nan A.
Talese/Doubleday. $ CHARLOTTE SWENSON is a Manhattan model on a downward slide; she is 35 but struggling to pass for 28 and reduced to. Egan took six years to write Look at Me, and it shows: this is a sprawling, ambitious novel that links together some of the most diverse characters you could imagine.
There is Moose, a middle-aged. Jennifer Egan plays with this world of images just from the beginning, in fact, the main character, Charlotte Swenson, is a quite well-known fashion model, whose life revolves around image and surface.
Find great deals for Look at Me by Jennifer Egan (, Hardcover). Shop with confidence on eBay!Download