Read a Book Today: The Oscars made me think of Joan Didion
I originally planned on writing this column about how I frequently go down rabbitholes when watching YouTube videos and how you can find yourself that way in novels as well. You know, how a viewing of the deleted scene of “Green Green Dress” from “tick, tick … BOOM!” (2021) quickly turned into funny videos of “high school musical 3 being the best one” to “camp rock on crack” to “aquamarine is bae.” But maybe that would have been too much of an exposure of my chaotic YouTube watch history and really, the structure of the column changed a lot on Sunday night. So, as Joan Rivers said: “Can we talk?”
My terrible secret? I’m an Oscars watcher. Like, I make it a night. It means takeout and the awards show and the Los Angeles Times list of nominees. Maybe it’s just an L.A. thing in spite of the declining ratings. Am I right often? No. But, I did anticipate Ariana DeBose and the best picture winner (10/10 would recommend) and totally did not expect that slap. Has there ever been such a moment since 2017’s envelope-gate? Has Twitter been so active in ages? Has anyone seen Faye Dunaway? I need answers. (Sorry. Ever since this happened, my brain has been like the guys in the OK GO treadmill video just jumping around.)
I grew up on musicals and will say this with confidence: Oscars season made my heart sing with the number of movie musicals (“Dear Evan Hansen” adaptation? We don’t know her!). You may be wondering what musicals have to do with books and why I rambled about the Oscars. Well, it goes beyond the traditional three-act structure.
When I call a book cinematic, it’s a compliment. It’s a compliment that I use in my creative writing workshops on campus. It means that the story sucked me in, and I could see the character and look at the world that the author created through their eyes. It’s something that I look for in a story, because when I crack open a spine, like many, I want to forget about the surrounding world for a second. A book is noise-canceling headphones for the soul.
Speaking of that cinematic quality, have I told you all about how much I love Joan Didion? Maybe I have, I don’t know, time is still fake to me. But, anyway, like most other self-respecting California girls (No, not Katy Perry), I adore Joan Didion. Previously, I’d read most of her more popular stuff, but recently, I picked up her book, “Where I Was From.” The cinematic part of it? Walking around campus listening to the audiobook with the California sun on my shoulders, feeling like the main character through and through. Obviously, the ideal listening experience.
“Where I Was From” melds memoir, history and journalism into 226 pages as Didion reckons with the California dream and how the state is full of contradictions. She talks about the parts of California beyond the two big cities that are said to represent the state and instead looks at the farmland, the city of Lakewood in Southern California and the Sierra Nevadas. She uses her journalism skills to dive into a scandal at Lakewood High School, and she gets a bit maudlin as she opens up the book writing about her great-great-great-great-great grandmother (if you’re wondering about how she was able to get that far back in her family tree, don’t worry, because I was too).
A Goodreads review on the piece mentioned that Didion could write about plastic bags and the reviewer would still read it. So, if you are the exact opposite of me and could not fathom picking up a book about history, read it instead for Didion’s writing.
Speaking of writing and family and going back to the great-great grandparents and all of the things that I love most, let’s talk about Anita Diamant. Diamant is the sort of author that you probably know best from your mom’s book club from about 10 years ago full of yentas. She’s fantastic and I want her to get beyond that niche demographic. In 2015, as a sophomore in high school, I reviewed her book, “The Boston Girl,” on my Goodreads, having written, “I LOVE THIS BOOK SO MUCH. It feels like a big hug.” Diamant takes us on a cinematic (there’s that word again) journey of a Rabbinical student interviewing her grandmother about her life growing up in Boston’s North End at the turn of the twentieth century. The central question: “How did you get to be the woman that you are today?” It’s about family, sisterhood and history. One of my favorite sorts of stories is the kind that goes through the narrator’s life, and “The Boston Girl” delivers on that front with Addie — our protagonist — weaving seamlessly through the experiences that made her. Genuinely, I return to this book every two years or so. I still love it, in all-caps.
Speaking of books that I love and devoured, let’s talk about Celeste Ng’s “Little Fires Everywhere” that made her a book club darling. Of course, it should come as no surprise to you that this book also deals with some history. (Not a lot! Don’t get scared!) “Little Fires Everywhere” wants you to think. It wants you to think about the custody battle, firebugs, the planned community of Shaker Heights and mother-daughter relationships. It’s stellar, and it’s not necessarily a hidden gem any longer thanks to the Hulu series. But, it’s worth picking up if you haven’t yet.
Aside from my strongly-held belief that we should talk more about Mike Faist in “West Side Story,” I also believe that a book should hold a cinematic quality. It should feel like a can’t tear your eyes away film, a star-studded musical number, a lonely cowboy walking in the desert as the saloon door swings or the action sequence that makes you white-knuckle grip your popcorn. I’m a generally impatient person with my media, which is why I tend to go back to my old favorites in television, so trust me when I say that you want cinematic in your books.
Rachel Bernstein is a senior writing about books in relation to the arts and entertainment news of the week. Her column “Read a Book Today” runs every other Friday.