I am 100% certain that February 1st was a half an hour ago, and I have no idea how we got to March so quickly. I’ll blame the month whizzing by so fast as to why I only logged one book this month (much like January…), but let’s call it what it was…I got lazy. Well, I don’t feel like I got physically lazy, so much as I became super invested in spending my down time with Doctor Who instead of a book. I miss reading! Why am I not doing more of it? I’ll tackle that one in March. Until then, let me review my latest, and only read.
The Princess Diarist by Carrie Fisher
I feel like even if I tried my absolute hardest, I could never appropriately detail how unbelievably cool and significant Carrie Fisher was as a human being. Aside from a catalog of extraordinary characters, written works, and a near perfect Twitter feed, her legacy as a champion of mental health awareness was equally as great. I was so saddened by her sudden passing last year (along with her mother, Debbie Reynolds), and I still can’t believe is now one short of a dog mom to Gary, galactic Princess/General. Reading The Princess Diarist after her passing, like reading the work of anyone who has since passed, felt a little bit more profound than I’m sure she had intended, especially the chapters that included poetry written her late teens/early twenties, but always present was her razor sharp wit and dry, self-deprecating sense of humor. The book itself is specific to her time working on Star Wars IV: A New Hope, breaking into stardom on her own, outside of her mother and father’s fame, and my favorite takeaway, her brief affair with Harrison Ford. While I do not condone extra-marital affairs, I also understand what late 70’s/early 80’s Harrison Ford looked like, so I’m really not about to tell her she was in the wrong. That being said, her recount of their affair, as short lived and discreet as it was, seemed to play out like that of a precocious freshman, and cool high school senior; equal parts swooning over small moments, and extreme confusion over what they could have possibly meant by a certain phrase or action. The way she speaks of it, it seemed like at the time she understood nothing would come of it, but was still totally enamored with him (and again, I get it) and half-wished that maybe he felt the same. “Woof, heard that.” – Said sixteen year old me.
This was through and through a genuinely wonderful read, and me all the more upset that she is no longer with us. I’d like to think she, her mom, and Elizabeth Taylor started a really cool girl gang in Heaven, and they tee-pee Eddie Fisher’s house from time to time, but that’s just my elaborate old Hollywood imagination at work. I’d recommend this book even if you have zero to little background on Carrie Fisher’s life (believe me, she’ll fill you in), or even Star Wars, because at it’s heart it was just someone reflecting on a beautifully chaotic window of time in their life, and don’t think we all have to have lived as daughter’s of super space villains to relate (although, I would absolutely love to relate to Harrison Ford affair (sorry, Jake)).
Did you read any good books last month?