But I'm in a bit of a mood after attempting a re-read of a book that I had remembered liking, and that this time around, rubbed me the wrong way. I had read Julie Powell's book, Julie and Julia, when it first came out (I remember grabbing it from the new nonfiction shelves at the library). I remember laughing at parts, and just enjoying the book overall. While it didn't inspire me to attempt making recipes from Julia Child, it did make me appreciate what I did like to cook, especially since at the time I read it, my kitchen was still in its pre-renovation state (I had poo-brown appliances from 1961, okay? That's another story all by itself.....).
|Meryl Streep is awesome.|
And..... something happened in between the first time reading and this recent re-read: the book sucked. Perhaps it was my original state of mind years ago, and my state of mind this week. Perhaps it because I had the movie firmly in mind, and the storyline in the film. Whatever the reason, this time around, I fervently disliked the book. It wasn't funny, and I found the author just grated on me (not unlike what happens when I use my micrograter on a lemon and accidental scrape a bit of finger, instead). I found her tone to be off-putting, and her stories of her friends to be annoying. I even tried stopping and re-starting a bit further into the book, thinking that maybe I just wasn't at a good part yet. No, that didn't work, either. I wound up being irritated and just putting the book down. It didn't help that there was a teaser chapter from Powell's second book, Cleaving, included in the edition I checked out from the library. In fact, that made me chafe, too -- I had read a few chapters of that book when it was published, and just plain didn't like it.
Needless to say, this experience put me off the book, although I still enjoy the film. What I'm wondering is: what happened? Did Meryl Streep and Amy Adams ruin the book for me? Did I somehow miss the author's annoying tone the first time around? Did getting rid of my poo-brown appliances and renovating my kitchen somehow make me identify less with this book? Not sure. I was happy to put this book down and pick up something else, which I'm completely enjoying (a new book .... expect a review soon).
Has this happened to anyone else?