Slow Days, Fast Company: The World, The Flesh, and L.A. (New York Review Books Classics)

With some books, one read just isn't enough. That's how I've always felt about this one. Every year or so I pull this slim volume off my shelf and read it again--sometimes cover-to-cover, sometimes just chapters that I'm especially in the mood for. Yes, I know it's not PC to love L.A., but having gone to high school in the Valley (before the invention of Valley Girls) I can't help it. L.A. is and always will be a part of me. And Eve Babitz is L.A. I’m so glad I bought this edition when it came out because the other covers are exceedingly boring compared to the amusing and arresting drawing of an Afghan Hound in a turtleneck sweater, sitting in a café. The ten jewel-like memoirs/stories take me to a different place that no longer exists except in my dreams. Babitz is a fabulous writer and a fascinating woman. Read it. I can say no more.

I very much enjoyed reading this, but it falls short of the top grade for a couple of reasons: 1) the "company" is not really very fast: the only interesting character is Eve herself, the only wit is hers in observing, the only interesting comments are hers. There aren't any real conversations, nothing to give it that zip of human interaction. 2) whether fast or slow none of the characters other than Eve come alive as real people. 3) at times the incidents described seem rather banal and not much different from the experiences of people who were not rich and famous. I was 20 in 1967, went to Woodstock in '69, to San Fran in '71, had a wild time without much money, until I slowed down a bit at 30 and went back to school. Aside from the luxury, the life she's describing seemed pretty tame to me, especially considering that it covers the same time period of the sixties and seventies that my generation experienced.With that being said, the book is a fun read because of Eve herself. She does not engage in self-aggrandizement and pokes fun at herself as well as others. Her satire is witty but not vicious, there's no sense that she's settling old scores even if she is. There are some great lines (which I cannot quote because I've already sent the book to a woman friend who I know will love it) which say so much with so few words that you have to be careful not to gloss over something without getting the full implications. And she is not pretentious, she's not trying to be any kind of writer except herself. That's refreshing in this era of pseudo-literary crud. So if you're feeling lazy on a Sunday (or whenever), curl up with this book, and you'll have a great time without having to get out of bed.

This is the best book she ever wrote. Read it first. I used to live in the neighborhood at that time. She captures it wonderfully in an open and oddly innocent way.

What took me so long to discover Eve Babitz? I live for a good memoir and Babitz was a writer who did exactly that: lived. In her novella Slow Days, Fast Company, Babitz stitches her shrewd cultural observations of LA in the ‘60s-‘70s and her romantic entanglements together like the brightly-hued tattoos on a Sunset Strip-devotee’s sleeve.

Flashy, very L.A. in the 70s from a woman who grew up there and went to HS in Hollywood. Funny, sassy, in the end sad because so many women seem to feel their lives are over past 40 and the freshness of high-heeled youth. Funny satire of Emerald Beach Laguna, WASP rich haven from the nonwhite, nonProt, nonPreppy. I enjoyed it, as someone who spent teenage years of the 50s in Pasadena, CA and went on HS weekends to Balboa and Newport Beach, drove over hills and ranches to Laguna -- where Riverside now is! Unrecognizable.

I loved her subject matter and prose. This is a must read for any Angeleno.

How did I miss this beautiful collection! Although a native Angelino, I’ve just no stumbled across this lovely writing. She captures the dream in perfect language.

Wanted to peek into the wild(er) days of LA. See what this libertine had to say about the early days of the battle of feminism. Too many phrases like this: “ it all looked like my restaurant. My very own. It was comfortable and clubby in a very snotty English colonial beat-the-natives-if-you-catch-them-stealing but deal-out-prodigious-kindness-for-loyalty way. “ and “there’s a waitress in every woman.” You sense her being wry in a way that was accepted at the time, but… no thanks.

Irrelevant stories of irrelevant people.

A nice reminder that reading can be pure fun.My group of friends are re-discovering Babitz and reading and sharing different parts.

Read Babitz when you're not in a mood to read, when you want to give your dilapidated heart another chance, when you're craving a cocktail of sensible conversations, when you are mobbed by insecurities and when the flashy world seems too flashy.Babitz observes and delivers in a way that seems like a prerequisite for commentary on the obvious as well as the not so obvious course of actions.

Glamorous and beautifully written

I'm discovering this author, which I aprecciate very much for several reasons; I'm almost in love with her if I go to L.A. one time I'd like to have a drink with her she is a very gifted author - person; I feel very idenidied with her culture andmy age 71 is another factor; she sends me back to the times I was a young man and that is amazing .