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City Guy

Now and then I like to return to Nora Ephron's essays, because they're worth the re-visit. I think Ephron knew she was dying when she wrote "I Remember Nothing," her final collection. Or she had a strong suspicion.

There are a few things to love about this book. First, it's exactly the length a book of essays should be: maybe 140 pages, not much more. (Who wants a fatter essay collection than that?)

Also, the book ends with two wonderful lists. The first is: "What I Won't Miss." (The title makes me think: This person was aware of her impending death.) Among Ephron's dislikes: email, dry skin, panels on Women in Film. (Fabulous specificity.)

The second list: "What I'll Miss." Among the items: Pride and Prejudice, coming over the bridge into Manhattan, reading in bed.

I love Ephron's book because it sneaks in a fair amount of wisdom. For example: If you can write a parody of a certain newspaper, then you can also write *for* that newspaper. And if you're young and new to a job, you should try not to ask, How in the world can I figure this out? As much as possible, you should just figure it out. And if you're writing for a paper, and you save the best info for the last paragraph, you ought to rethink that. Really, who bothers to read the last paragraph?

Finally, I love Ephron because she looks squarely at life's unpleasant features. Her final collection includes an essay on her bald patch, an essay on her divorce, an essay on the experience of being old, and an essay on her various flops (e.g. "Bewitched"). Among the nuggets of tough love I'll never forget here: "In fact, most of the time, you learn nothing from a flop. You learn only that a flop is, indeed, always possible." "Divorce is almost never good for the kids, and generally when people say otherwise, they're lying." "Divorce does make clear something that can become cloudy in marriage: Who is going to tend to the crying baby? It's you. It's always you. You are on your own." "It's very easy to say to someone, You have spinach stuck in your teeth. All you need to do is lean in and say, You have spinach stuck in your teeth."

Is this Kant? No. But I admire Ephron's no-bullshit smarts. Always. I recommend this book.
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