1/10/2024 0 Comments Walking papers book reviews![]() As the years went by, he began to rattle, then to chime. Squinting aft, I see him, rib cage and all. ![]() I am forbidden nothing, but there is nothing I can have. Shunned, I go from ocean to ocean, falling in love with icebergs and fluffy fog, and, nearer shore, with snow and polar bears. Only, during brief heaven, a mother who nudged and nourished. I have never seen a white male or a white mate. Albinos do, doomed special while feeling like the rest. A whale tells this, white as Biscay froth, a tale black as caviar. She also refers to two different people as 'the best lovers in the world', though she tends to use more vulgar language to get those points across, and a great deal of the book sees her absorbed in that obsession.I too, alone, survived to tell thee. Well I struggled to the end, and hopes were briefly raised by a nice bit about her dog, but it only lasted a couple of pages and then we were back to the same old "Haig treats me terribly, but I love him, but I need to leave him, oh poor me what shall I do?" It was pretty much the same with the 1st and 3rd hubbies too, and while the 2nd one died, by the end of the book any sense of tragedy has been replaced by 'he was lucky to get out when he did'. The bed-wetting is a clue that we are dealing with a troubled individual, but as the story plays out (I can't really say 'progresses') we see that the disturbances are largely of her own creation and the 'victim' posture becomes tiring after a while. Despite being born with a silver spoon and leading a privileged existence, Diana just sees herself as a pathetic victim of all the bad choices she has made over the course of her life. The self-obsession of a JAP is both interesting and entertaining in the hands of Goldie Hawn, but not in Sandra Hochman's, I'm afraid. There was one brief section, about her constantly interrupted efforts to do T'ai Chi Chuan, that was genuinely funny and well-written, but that merely emphasized what the rest of this book might have been but didn't even come close to. What a pathetic excuse for a book! I wasn't sure I'd be able to get through to the end, as I picked it up each night with no enthusiasm and put it down again frustrated and a bit annoyed that I was wasting my time in this way. Her invention, sensuality, and poetic gifts lend to Walking Papers a totally original novelist's voice belonging, in Diana's words, to "a woman obsessed with essentials." A women to be read. writer, and partner in an affair that stretches from an ocean beach to real estate on Seventy- second Street-as she is caught to a bizarre parade of men on the hunt in New York City. Miss Hochman pulls and tugs her heroine-a mother, tapdancer. she bends and splices it together, twists it and sets it to reel on a little further. Mexico reverse to her flamboyant grandfather's used stageprop farm, or to life In Paris with a hypnotist hold, for a moment of tormented reflection, on Jason, the nonhusband then slowly spin forward again, frantic and funny, turn, turn, to everything there is a season. It is played out with a great personal intensity, a kind of tape-recorded reality that stuns and amazes upon the sound of her own voice fast forward to Juarez. This is a madcap erotic journal of the very separate parts of one woman's life. We understand each other." Breaking into herself, Diana is a sanity robber armed with cupfuls of tears and lots of laughs. Like the dangerously Insane and deaf we invent our own language We gesture in our own mudras. With four children, a pet Zulu-Terrier (a rare breed), and a wheeler-dealer love affair to boot.ĭiana Balooka: "We are babies. Turner Publishing is proud to present a new edition of Sandra Hochman's first novel, Walking Papersįirst published by Viking Press in 1971, Hochman's widely-praised novel is about a messy divorce told with a poet's verve.įrom the Viking Press edition: Diana Balooka: "Out of my womanhood is my madness woven." And, for Diana, out of marriage has divorce arisen.
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