Once again Gina Barreca wows the reader with a wonderful book by a talented author who does beautiful anthologies as well. She finds the reality, the humor and the depth in any situation. Those who love her writing should check out "They Used to call me snow white, but I drifted" "The Penguin Book of Women's Humor" "Too Much of a Good Thing is Wonderful" and the Washington Post Magazine where once a month she and Gene Weingarten do a column together. They are publishing a book together in 2003 that will also be great.

Into a medium sized book add: a little under one hundred Italian American writers spanning an almost equal number of years, a liberal amount of humor and irony, chopped up tragedy, mixed with redemption, olive oil (of course!), and finally one terrific editor (Gina Barreca). One need not stir liberally as the contents tend to mix and mingle well on their own. What do you get?

The most complex and multifaceted Italian American anthology that anybody has ever cooked up. Bravo!

WOW! I received this collection for Xmas and I'm buying the book for every person I know if they are Italian -American or even more importantly, if they are (like myself) married to an Italian-American. I learned more from these writers about my own experience than any other book. A great read.

Insightful, intimate, and funny. I feel as though I know Regina - on a first name basis! As she traces much of her life through a series of personal essays that cover everything from ottoman shaped aunts in the kitchens of her youth to sleepless nights in a lazy Connecticut town, Regina shows how complicated, scary, yet beautiful life can be. I would recommend "Too Much of a Good Thing is Wonderful" to anyone who has ever loved, lost, feared or conquered. In other words, I would recommend it to everyone.

I laughed aloud at so many phrases/sentences/paragraphs, the pages are worn out. One of the funniest things, though, was unintentional, I'm sure. I was using a large paper clip to keep the pages from falling out of her book, when on page 101 Regina refers to pages falling out of an old paperback book with cheap binding...same publisher?

Regina is an inspiration to all writers, published or not.

Deemed a "Feminist Humor Maven" by Ms. magazine, Dr. Regina Barreca once again delights us with another jaw-dropping, wise and witty collection of essays. Too Much of a Good Thing Is Wonderful tackles the dangerous issues that affect us all, but that we have been afraid or unsure of how to discuss. If you or someone you know is moving back home after college, raising step-children, changing careers, facing surgery, starting/ending a relationship, is Italian-American or has immigrant parents, you will love and appreciate Barreca's clarity, honesty and animation. She inspires and empowers women (and men!) of all ages, because she finds deeper meaning behind daily routine, and you will never diet, precisely apply lipstick, watch a horror movie, tune-in to what amounts to "house porn," despise the woman having an affair with your husband, view the "good girl" reputation, think about your father, mother, or brother in the same way again. Barreca's essays are provacative and life-altering. They will evoke tears and laughter (but mostly tears from laughter). I could (and have) read the book again and again!

if you need to put more laughter in your life, this book will make sure that happens! I recommend this for all women, all girls, all people who need to add joy to their day.

I only wish there was a sequel

Editor and author Regina Barreca's newest collection of essays examines the sweetness and controversy of both revenge and cannoli in HBO's The Sopranos with an authority, authenticity and insight that only a group of fellow Italian Americans writers could provide. Taking the television series as a jumping off point to examine Italian American cultural and identity questions, the essays reflect an attraction and repulsion with the misconceptions and realities of stereotypes about Italian Americans. There are no easy answers to any of these issues, but "A Sitdown with the Sopranos," with its own remarkable cast and writers does an exceptional job of addressing them.

Let's face it---there is something intriguing about the gangster character. Perhaps his rebel status--living on the edge of society, not following the usual conformist formula to gain success titilliates the majority of us who have gone the regular route. As I am an Italian American, America's fascination with the gangster and his sense of family and his affiliations with the culture and traditions of my own ethnicity strikes me as utterly amusing and ironic. It seems to contradict what Americans have always held sacred: the values of self-reliance and individualism so masterfully illustrated in the essays of Emerson and Thoureau --- values that define the American spirit. So why the Hollywood double, no, the nth-degree take on the Mafia, a body of nonconformists who adhere to their own code of honor in order to skip the assimilation process that all immigrants must undergo to enter into the mainstream American system?

Should Italian Americans be annoyed with 'Sopranos' creator, David Chase (an Italian American himself), for yet again portraying the third generational Italian American as the mobster rather than the honest businessman/doctor/lawyer who through higher education and hard work finds himself a rung on the ladder of the American Dream?

These are the types questions discussed in "A Sitdown With the Sopranos". This extremely serious book contains eight essays, all written by Italian-Americans who have assimilated into the system and are not in the least bit negatively piqued as are the Italian American anti-defammation groups who label the hit HBO television series a 'thumbs down' in almost every conceivable category. Under the guise of studying the Sopranos, these essays encompass a socialogical spectrum of all things Italian American: religion, the family, the mother/son relationship, culture, father/son relationships, manhood, even a look at how family-centric Italian Americans view such a breach of 'omerta' by participating in such a heinously un-Italian-American act of speaking to the outsider or psychoanalyst rather than a family member or a priest.

If you are Italian American, you will get the great satisfaction of knowing that America is enraptured by the Italian American family structure and intrigued by the seemingly exotic religious traditions brought to America by those true purveyors of the American Dream-- your grandparents. The analysis provided in the essays will vocalize some of the issues over which you, as an Italian American, have pondered. You will smile as you realize that your ethnic lifeblood (for surely even with the mob theme running through the Sopranos, you recognize and nod over many of the secret handshakes of Italian American life that before which have never been depicted quite so wonderfully)is suddenly very much in vogue and that your ancestors accomplished their mission. If your're not Italian American, you will recognize that even if Tony Soprano did not go through the usual route of assimilating into the American mainstream, he nevertheless must bow his head (perhaps in the form of his panic attacks) to the change of time and society. Tony's confronts the same issues that we all confront; he wants his children educated in the best schools, covets the best that life has to offer and yet feels the same spiritual void that many of us do. Highly recommended!

What are waiting for? the last two pages should be the introduction... that's just me. It shows the proper use and worth of revenge. Is it worth your time? Looking for healthy justice? Look no further.

Mrs. Parker possessed a venom that incapacitated its victims with sheer brainy pleasure. Her stories are tight, sparse, and crunchy with wit--Oscar Wilde looks like Krusty the Klown in comparison. While some would complain that she rarely strays from critiquing the hypocrisies of the wealthy and powerful, it's hard to argue that there isn't enough material therein to fuel a thousand careers. Her work is essential reading for those of us who aren't perfectly at ease with the ways of the world but find ourselves coping with it anyway.

The Elaine Stritch readings of seven of these stories are also tremendously entertaining and worthy of separate purchase. The delight of sitting in a darkened room, listening to a master actress reading Mrs. Parker, sipping from a tumbler of whiskey, must be experienced to be believed.

Dorothy Parker is one of the great women writers of the twentieth century. Though her life was marred by alcoholism and rather poor choices, her biting, insightful stories are a window into the twenties and women in general. I read her stories whenever I've had a rough day and need a giggle.

And I thought I knew all of the short story writers who write good social satire, especially about the Battle of the Sexes. Do you like John Updike's dissonant couples the Maples? John Cheever's middle-class suburban sashayings? John O'Hara's accounts of evil-propelled mis-treatments and non-treatments? Ring Lardner's tales of hamfisted bunglings? Katherine Mansfield's dry-point etchings of looming males and tendril-like females?

To these I can now add Dorothy Parker--whom I discovered only last month after enjoying the above social-critics for decades. A sharp-tongued journalist, Parker wrote in New York City in the 1920's through the 1950's. She's a key addition to the "fruit salad" of these writers--call her a lime, perhaps--small, tart, acid but somehow quenching our thirst for the truth however tangy?

Parker precisely pinpoints interpersonal shipwrecks. Marriage is--what happens. Often it's like this:

In "New York to Detroit," on the telephone, a man mechanically shoves a desperate woman out of his life. The bad connection aids his "misunderstandings" of her frantic pleas.

In "Here We Are," a just-married couple travel by train to their New York City honeymoon hotel. But we see already the stress-fractures of immature overreactions, and how out of them starts to ooze the lava of hatred which will surely melt down (or burn out) the marriage soon.

In "Too Bad," women are perplexed, even astonished, that the Weldons separated. Such an ideal couple! Except Parker eavesdrops us into the couple's typical evening at home. Its genteel vacancy, polite non-communication, and quiet distancing tell the tale.

Is Parker too crude a caricaturist? Heavy on the satire, too bitter personally? True, her women seem simplified: helplessly-hysterical, nice-nice faceless patseys or creampuffs, captives of bland routines--and of men. Her men similarly seem generic males-of-the-species, "blunt bluff hearty and...meaningless," conventionally-whiskered and all, chauvinistically-insensitive if not cruel. Okay... But if it's overdone, why do I feel I have known and seen these people, or traces of them, often, and not in New York of the 1920's-1950's either?

Which came first, Damon Runyon or Anita Loos? Whatever, this is a brilliant book that gets funnier as Loos hits her stride. By the time she gets to Dorothy's adventures she's well away. It's not just the language and the gags but the concrete observation - Dorothy isn't just discovered sitting in the doorway of Pearl Lo Vino's tent, she's found sitting there watching Pearl crochet a boudoir cap. Writers, take note!

It's impossible to hear this title without thinking of the stage musical with Channing or the later film version of it with Monroe. But Loos's novel is one of the funniest books of the twentieth century, and was beloved by everyone from James Joyce to Santayana. It's all told from Lorelei Lee's diary as she conquers New York, London, Paris, and (hardest of all) the Philadelphia Main Line, entirely by dint of her charm and comeliness. Lorelei is no fool, and exploits the desires of the old men who meet her to get all the jewels and orchids she can dream of, but nonetheless she remains very much an innocent--which is the greatest wellspring of the book's appeal. And her cynical friend Dorothy's sidecomments (which Lorelei frequently quotes) are absolutely hilarious.

I adored this book! I purchased it because I'd seen both of the movies, but the book is so much wittier! I'd recommend it to anyone with an extremely sophisticated sense of humor, otherwise it would be hard to understand - not for lightweights!

I had high hopes for this book. But I ended up just skimming through most of it. Some of the jokes are funny, the author makes some good points, and there are some good references in it. However, I found the writing style wasn't able to hold my interest.

Not only can Barreca take a joke, she can masterfully script her own making the reader laugh out loud at the comedy and complexity of the gender roles - both male and female - we think we lead, but which in fact often lead us. In "They Used To Call Me Snow White... But I Drifted" Barreca makes public many of the private joys, hypocrisies and trials of women's humor in an honest and frank manner. But make no mistake: behind her comfortable writing style lies a poignancy, wit and substance that raises the stakes. Reading "Snow White" is like sitting down at the kitchen table with your funniest (and smartest) aunt and being let in on all of life's best and naughtiest secrets. Simply put, Regina Barreca gets it.

This well written (and hilarious) book instructs women to unveil and unleash their humor in the real world. Barreca maintains that the demure Mona Lisa style of humor is no longer sufficient--if it ever was.. With the increased number of women in the workplace, this book has particular value for changing work climate. Women's open laughter and humor can improve the connection, perspective, and creativity at work. A must read for women....and men.

The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton was a well-written book. The descriptions of New York society made the story jump off the pages. I also learned a bit of history through these in-depth details. Although Wharton does get a bit carried away at times, the detail brings the story alive.
My favorite character was May Welland Archer. She showed a lot of character throughout the novel. Knowing what was going on between her husband, Newland Archer and her cousin, Countess Ellen Olenska, I felt a sense of pity for May. Although Newland remained faithful to May, his heart was not truly with him.
I recommend this book to anyone who likes history, drama or romance, but I warn the reader that the ending is disappointing. After finishing the book, I asked myself what the purpose was of the novel. Due to an inconclusive ending, I felt sad and depressed after reading the last page. Although The Age of Innocence is a good book, the conclusion is disappointing.

Edith Wharton revisits and scrutinizes the New York high society she grew up in in this novel of love, social expectations, and class boundaries. Newland Archer-the central figure in the novel- is torn between a woman who represents tradition (and never questions the social order) and the woman he loves, who challenges the limits of society's tolerance, and seems oblivious in doing so. Throughout the novel, Archer is beseiged by thoughts of following his heart, but is drawn by propiety to never break with tradition. One is reminded of "The House of Mirth", another great work by Wharton, in which the central character's social blunder in the first chapter of the novel results in an irreparable decline into the lower classes.

Not only does Wharton enlighten the reader on the social codes of conduct during "The Age of Innocence", but she also fills the novel with the dress codes, dining codes, and proper codes of etiquette which were so important in the daily lives of the members of New York's high society. This stunning attention to detail really takes the reader to a different time and place, and it's a fascinating journey.

All of Edith Wharton's books about New York society are, of course, a glimpse of an older society for us. The Age of Innocence stands out, however, because it was a nostalgic book for Edith Wharton. She wrote this book after World War I and looked back at an earlier age. Interestingly, this makes the book more rather than less resonant today. It resonates because we read this book mainly to see what society was once like. And Edith Wharton was writing for the same purpose--although for her it was more of a trip down memory lane. We struggle between rooting for characters to break free from social constraints that have since passed away and thinking that maybe these constraints created a happier society. I got the sense that Wharton was doing the same thing.

The book tells the story of Newland Archer who is engaged to May. May's cousin, Countess Olenska, comes to town escaping from a bad marriage. Countess Olenska grew up in New York but moved to Europe. She loves the newness and rationality of the New World, but has Old World mystery around her. Newland is quickly intrigued by her.

The rest of the book revolves around the triangle of May, Newland and the Countess. It often focuses on the mores of the society, the attempts of the Countess to become at home in New York, May's attempts to be good to her cousin and yet make a good marriage with Newland and Newland's struggle between his background in society and his rational view that that society's rules should be cast aside.

I would, however, recommend reading this more for the view of New York than for the plot. One example: we quickly accept the view that Newland, his family and his relations are the pinnacle of New York society. However, Wharton throws us a curveball. Newland goes to the van der Luydens to ask a favor. And we learn that Newland is really not at the pinnacle of society. The van der Luydens stand on another level and Newland's tier of society exists at the heels of this society. Throughout the book, Wharton gives us similar little nuggets of what American society once was like.

I sincerely recommend this book.

this, my first novel by henry james, was recommended to me by a trusted friend privy to my affection for the work of austen, the brontes, wharton, bowen and hall. i must admit to having had reservations about a victorian novel with a female protragonist written by a man, but was pleasantly surprised to find that james had depicted the female perspective, in isabel archer, with notable aplomb. i was a little disappointed that, in spite of the book's length, i felt there was a huge leap from the first half of the book, which firmly establishes the young miss archer as a woman intent to never marry and the second half, which finds her rather abruptly married to the third of three men who have made the appeal to her. still, this is a classic work of literature that deserves all the praise it has received. it is far more dense than works by the aforementioned authors and, as such, makes awful subway reading--unless, of course, your train breaks down and there are no crying children or blaring boom boxes in your car.

Henry James is one of my favorite authors and The Portrait of a Lady is one of his greatest works. In it, he creates a unique and unforgettable heroine, Isabel Archer, and then proceeds to let her make all the mistakes the young are capable of making. In fact, Isabel is so sure of herself that, at times, I found it difficult to have much sympathy for her poor choices. But one thing I never felt for Isabel Archer was indifference, all to James' credit.

The Portrait of a Lady is truly 19th Century literature at its finest, but that means it also contains elements that might be distracting for the modern reader. There are lengthy descriptions, the pace is rather slow and James never lets us forget we are reading a book. He makes liberal use of phrases such as "our heroine," and "Dear Reader." While all of this was expected in the 19th Century, some readers today might find it annoying.

Those who don't however, will find themselves entranced by a beautiful story of love and loss, unforgettable characters (there are many more besides Isabel, most notably the enigmatic Madame Merle) and gorgeous description, all rendered in James' flawless prose.

Anyone who loves classics or who wants a truly well-rounded background in literature cannot afford to pass this up.

Henry James has truly outdone himself with this book. While it is no longer my favorite James' novel, I still think it among the best novels written in the English language. The character of Isabel Archer is an indelible part of literature. The story begins with an American woman, left parentless and penniless, being discovered by an expatriate Aunt. The Aunt convinces her to go England with her so that she might meet her cousin, Ralph. Isabel eagerly agrees. She is idealistic and has always wanted to see Europe. Her aunt agrees to pay for the expenditures. Once there, Isabel falls in love with their house, Gardencourt, and grows to enjoy her frail, sweet, ironic, and funny cousin. Before Isabel knows it, she has become ensnared in a one-sided love affair with a handsome English nobleman, Lord Warburton, little knowing what to do. Despite the urgings of her aunt, Isabel rejects his proposal in the desire to wait for something better. Soon, her elderly uncle dies, but not before she charms him with her intelligence and subtle beauty. Ralph insists that his father leave Isabel a substantial fortune, so that she might be able to live as she wishes. When the uncle dies, Isabel is left with 70,000 pounds, or about 200,000 dollars. From here is where the true story begins. I will not reveal more of the plot, which unwinds slowly and with assurance. James, being a master of prose, knows how to manipulate a sentence in a multitude of ways. His lilting, ironic, verbose writing style lends class and charm to Isabel's ultimately tragic tale. Some modern readers aren't able to handle James' subtle style. Unfortunately, many of us have had to fight the effects of shortened attention spans. Reading a slow-paced and brilliantly conceived tale like this will surely help cure short attention spans. Once you begin the story, it grows on you and affects you greatly. James is difficult getting used to, but he grabs you with his excellent descriptions of passionate people. Finally, the brilliance of this book lies in its tragedy. Even though many readers can predict early on where Isabel's confidence and naivete will lead her, James makes the journey bumpy and fascinating. He also slowly injects the story with dread, as we begin to sense the true malevolence of Madame Merle's and Osmond's vicious plans. Their acts are pure Machiavellian glee. Only in the final third of the book does it become clear of the true nature of the scheming M. Merle's plans. James also leaves several important plot points until near the end of the novel. All of this leads to a long, engrossing, and sad story of a young woman "affronting her destiny", as James puts it. Rarely has so romantic or so devastating a book been written. The ending is the final kicker. Unlike the happy ending we suspect, James leaves readers with open interpretations and many possible questions regarding Isabel's TRUE feelings about men. It also most vividly presents her sexual repression and fear that dominate the entire book. James knew the reserves of the time dictated that such topics not be discussed, and he cleverly uses this theme discreetly. However, he also uses it as a sort of indictment on the times, with their lack of passion and sensuality. Many readers expect a conclusion to the story, but, as with real life, stories simply go on. The ending is perhaps the most modern thing about the book. It also makes certain readers know that Isabel's life will never be one of happiness. This is an exquisitely haunting masterpiece.