Meredith

Deeply disturbing and hard to stomach, but beautifully (if horrifically) written. A fascinating dramatization of the vapid, yuppy 80's and the obsession with furthering self at the expense of others. Brett Easton Ellis' writing style really drives home Patrick Bateman's internal dialogue: obsession with labels and conspicuous consumption, detachment from personal relationships, numb emotion to any feeling other than arousal and anxiety. I don't know that I could ever re-read this, but I'm glad I soldiered on to the end.

Navel gazing at its worst. After forcing myself through approximately 50 pages of this vapid “memoir,” I couldn't stomach anymore - even as a hate read. We get it, Lena. You're the smartest, funniest girl in the room and you don't give a damn what people think about your body or your love life.

The best part of the book (by far) was the illustration work at the start of each chapter.

As someone who loves the microhistories of Mary Roach, I was hoping for a fast-paced, witty story about toilets, waste, sanitation, etc. While it wasn't quite as compelling as Ms. Roach's books, the story was fascinating none the less. I was shocked to learn how many people lack basic sanitation & toilets - not even latrines or holes in the ground. I also enjoyed the multi-cultural perspective - looking at toileting & sanitation habits in various parts of the world. Jumping from the heated, musical bidets of Japan to the toilet crisis in India was jarring and produced the desired effect: being blindsided by the disparity in global sanitation.

Rather than use euphemisms or focus on clean water without addressing how the water is dirtied in the first place, Rose George forces us to confront the most basic of human needs: a place to shit. Minus 2 stars for the tedious writing (the chapter on India had so many acronyms I started skimming pages), but overall a worthwhile read for anyone interested in humanitarian or environmental issues.

After reading so many luke-warm or negative reviews, I feel compelled to defend this book. It's not the most incredible memoir I've ever read but it was a funny, fresh perspective on twenty-something life in NYC. Many of the 1-3 star reviews seem to come from other Mormons who seem terrified that a less-than-perfect congregant will taint the world's view of their religion. In reality, I found Elna's honesty about her struggles with growing up, city life, sexuality and her beliefs refreshing.

Elna makes it clear that she is not a “typical Mormon” who married at 18 and never questioned her faith. She attends NYU, not BYU, and ends up as a sexy sushi restaurant hostess instead of a 23 year old stay-at-home mom. She tries (hilariously) to date and find love as a sober, never-been-kissed virgin in a city full of one night stands. She questions whether her faith is something that gives her life meaning or defines her as a one-dimensional character. She tries to embrace life by saying “Yes!” to everything while wondering if this makes her sometimes a bit of a liar. And all of this is what made the book so interesting and enjoyable to me.

Even as a non-religious person, I could relate to her struggle between one's internal ideal and one's external actions. I think most people wish they could behave better/more righteous/more moral/more just than they do on a typical day. Elna Baker explores that sometimes uncomfortable gray space with wit and humor, and left me with a much more modern view of Mormonism. Her struggle to create her own identity and her desire to be loved are universal. Her story is enjoyable no matter you religion, or lack thereof.