Elinor Lipman Essays On Abortion
"Lipman's acuity as a social observer makes her voice seem to belong to a wise and funny friend." —The Boston Globe
"More addictive than that bag of peanut M&M's… [Lipman] is always in top form as an essayist…Her essays celebrate an uncommon virtue: common decency. Lipman is eloquent and loving." —The New York Times Book Review
"Endearingly personal…The essays are full of wit and charm, along with some trenchant observations." —The Seattle Times
"[Lipman's] good nature twinkles on virtually every page of I Can't Complain…Lipman is unfailingly funny, and comic flashes illuminate even her saddest essays...Lipman portrays our most painful emotions coexisting with the humor that makes them bearable." —The Washington Post"Engaging…Good-natured confessions run throughout the pieces in I Can't Complain." —The Miami Herald "Funny, witty, gracious and knowing personal essays that make a reader want to have lunch with the author." —Milwaukee Journal Sentinel "The essays in I Can't Complain bring warmth and insight to topics ranging from soap operas to the death of [Lipman's] beloved husband." —Parade "In each piece, no matter how brief, Lipman tackles the subject at hand with Dorothy Parker-esque wit and verve. The author's good-spirited openness and self-awareness shine through…A feast of bite-sized morsels of humor and wisdom." —Kirkus Reviews "As if readers are sitting down to sip a glass of wine with their best friend (if that best friend happened to be incredibly witty, intelligent, self-aware and encouraging-and also a bestselling author), this collection feels like the very best gabfest imaginable…Very highly recommended." —Book Reporter "Charming…Whether or not one is a Lipman fan before reading this collection, he or she most certainly will be by the time the final page is turned." —Publishers Weekly
In her second collection of New York Times pieces, Quindlen (Object Lessons, 1991, etc.) lets loose with her trademark intelligence, fervor, and personal focus on topics ranging from the Gulf War through absent fathers to the controversy over abortion. ``But is it really necessary for you to wear your gender on your sleeve?,'' an eager young journalist once asked the author. Citing her role model, editorialist Dorothy Thompson (who when told she had ``the brains of a man'' insisted she was ``altogether female''), Quindlen reiterates her belief that she owes it to herself, to the female reporters who broke ground for her generation at the Times, and to her readers to comment on world events from her underrepresented and valuable female viewpoint. Writing with greater maturity and depth than in her ``Life in the 30s'' column (Living Out Loud, 1988), she confidently proceeds to filter the abortion issue through her own experience as a Catholic mother of three; consider euthanasia from the perspective of a dying man's wife; observe her daughter's second birthday while considering that women as a whole still earn less than men; mull over the premature revelation of Arthur Ashe's case of AIDS from the point of view of a seasoned reporter; and lambast the Times, as a journalist and a woman, for revealing the name of the alleged rape victim in the William Kennedy Smith trial. Whimsical moments appear sporadically (Quindlen predicts the next movie blockbuster, Mom Alone), but rage surfaces more frequently from this woman writing in what she--perhaps optimistically--calls ``a world in which we can wear our gender on our sleeves.'' ``I'd love to run your column, but we already run Ellen Goodman,'' one newspaper editor candidly told Quindlen. Until the quota increases past one, here's a way for more readers to fall in love with at least one woman's very personal brand of passion.