Blue Nights

If you're expecting Blue Nights to be anywhere near the level of Magical Thinking - you'll be sorely disappointed with this book. I assumed, since the topic continued upon the same subject (of loss) that she had something substantial more to say. I reached the end of the book wondering what it was. Didion should have stopped while she was ahead. There were a few gems about parental regrets and difficulties of aging, but certainly not enough to fill a book. Though no one could say Didion hasn't suffered tremendous loss, Blue Nights keeps reminding the reader how privileged her life was/is. Take her situation and apply it to a poor widow with nowhere to go and no money for diversion of kind. Such a person has an insight into suffering that Didion, flying from city to city publicizing a book (Magical Thinking), sitting at "Café Didion" backstage of the theater, etc. cannot imagine. She reminisces about fears that the social worker will find out she's employed an illegal immigrant from Mexico to care for her newly adopted daughter and sadness that her 1960s famous maker clothes and stores for the rich are no longer in existence. Even on the subject of aging the best she can come up with to draw on is Shingles and complains that she has to explain to health care providers that her Writers Guild Industry Health Plan is primary over Medicare. Does she realize that millions of people in this country have no health insurance at all and some families have to resort to public fundraisers to pay for medical care when they suffer a major illness ? She also repeats a lot from Magical Thinking, which only confirmed my opinion that Blue Nights isn't a book worthy of owning.

I too have enjoyed the writings of Didion but not so much this book. Quintana was a special person, as we are all special in different ways. "Blue Nights" was more a therapeutic step in Didion's life rather than a novel for people to read and enjoy. She may have been better served in her journey beyond the deaths of her husband and daughter by having written this book, and then kept it to herself.

I respect the author's right to write and publish whatever she wants, but that right comes with strings. It gives others the right to criticize. Having grown up in a large family where my childhood would not have been described as privileged, that word does come up as an applicable adjective to describe Quintana's upbringing. I am quite surprised that a writer capable of such insight into humanity was not capable of seeing that and owning up to it.

Joan Didion never disappoints. Her writing is heartfelt and you feel the emotions she goes through in her beautiful nonfiction work. Curl up by the fire and spend the evening with this amazing author.

Joan Dideon has mastered the cathartic exercise of auto-biography. Her writing is so beautiful and true, a pleasure and a pain in sharing her grief. I too lost a grown child and know too well the emptiness one feels.

I enjoyed YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING which was briefly incarnated in a stage play. No play likely in the offing for BLUE NIGHTS. In Didion's initial confessional there were many hints about her daughter's sickness, and hence the reader might have expected some pay-off in BLUE NIGHTS. But this is not forthcoming. There is not much at all about the medical particulars of Quintana's death.

I have concluded that BLUE NIGHTS is more about Didion than about her daughter's death. While some may wish to read about Didion's encroaching sense of mortality, I was not much taken by her musings.

Seemed self-indulgent to me. Possibly narcissistic.

Some of my negative reaction may be due to our own family's struggle with a beautiful blond daughter who is still alive, but very much vacant from us due to a traffic-accident induced traumatic brain injury. I am not sure our daughter could quite measure up to the splendour of Quintana Roo, but then again BLUE NIGHTS seemed to contain precious little that might be considered "factual" about Didion's daughter.

Every parent mourns in a way appropriate to every parent. I guess I cannot doubt the sincerity of Didion's mournings for her adopted daughter. And no one can second guess the depth of my own pain regarding our daughter Rebecca.

I enjoyed YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING which was briefly incarnated in a stage play. No play likely in the offing for BLUE NIGHTS. In Didion's initial confessional there were many hints about her daughter's sickness, and hence the reader might have expected some pay-off in BLUE NIGHTS. But this is not forthcoming. There is not much at all about the medical particulars of Quintana's death.

I have concluded that BLUE NIGHTS is more about Didion than about her daughter's death. While some may wish to read about Didion's encroaching sense of mortality, I was not much taken by her musings.

Seemed self-indulgent to me. Possibly narcissistic.

Some of my negative reaction may be due to our own family's struggle with a beautiful blond daughter who is still alive, but very much vacant from us due to a traffic-accident induced traumatic brain injury. I am not sure our daughter could quite measure up to the splendour of Quintana Roo, but then again BLUE NIGHTS seemed to contain precious little that might be considered "factual" about Didion's daughter.

Every parent mourns in a way appropriate to every parent. I guess I cannot doubt the sincerity of Didion's mournings for her adopted daughter. And no one can second guess the depth of my own pain regarding our daughter Rebecca.

Having a family member suffering the loss of an adult child, I had anticipated reading this book and then sharing it. I found few insights, however, that were worth sharing. The book is a disjointed catalog of memories and experiences that have meaning to no one but the author. While its writing may have provided catharsis, it leaves little for the reader to take away.

Didion is astonishingly sharper in her late years than she ever was before. Lovely, dark, thought-provoking and rich with insight on nearly every life-and-death-related issue, Blue Nights is a must-read for any Didion fan, and a fascinating intro to anyone as of yet unfamiliar with this classic journalist's craft and style.

Blue Nights, Joan Didion's book about the life and death of her daughter Quintana Roo becomes, in the end, more about Didion herself and how the deaths of her husband and daughter, along with the inevitable frailties of aging, have undone the cocoon of entitlement that defined her as a writer.

The book begins in typical Didion style with evocations of her blissful early married life in California, the glamorous movie work, the celebrity friends, the houses in Brentwood and Malibu, etc. Didion is on auto-pilot here and the writing feels tired. Didion has been criticized for writing about her privileged life and presenting it as a norm and she responds to it here by claiming that "Privilege" is a judgment, an opinion and an accusation and something to she will "not easily cop." Didion can't accept it when her readers step out of the role of passive spectators. As another reviewer here, Gem, writes, "How do we make sense of someone who is indifferent to people but wants/demands that people be engaged with her"? This is the definition of a narcissist.

"Quintana is one of the areas where I have difficulty being direct," writes Didion about her adopted daughter. Quintana was diagnosed with bi-polar and finally, borderline personality disorder, with a history of alcohol abuse and suicide attempts. From the way Didion describes Quintana's birth mother, it sounds like she was also mentally disturbed. Quintana's biological brother died young, like her. Quintana was never able to overcome the emotional and physical dysfunction she inherited from her family of origin.

The latter part of the book is surprisingly good. Didion writes honestly about her loneliness, physical fraility and her surprise at finding herself to be old. Her self-involvement actually makes her writing better and more astute as she describes her failing health. Blue Light refers to the haunting blue light that occurs around twilight on parts of the East Coast. For Didion, it reminds her of the deaths of the people she's loved as well as the inevitability of her own passing. She lingers over memories of her daughter's wedding and longs for her personal presence despite what must have been a difficult relationship. The sad events of Didion's life have finally given her writing more emotional depth than she's had in the past.

Joan Didion's slim memoir "Blue Nights" is mostly about the life and death of her daughter Quintana Roo in 2005, at the age of 39. Quintana's death came after a year and a half of failing health and was preceded by the death of Joan's husband and Quintana's father, John Gregory Dunne, in late 2003. Didion wrote a previous memoir, "The Year of Magical Thinking" about Dunne's sudden death.

As a mother myself, I cannot think of anything worse than a child's death. Nothing. So when writing my review of Joan Didion's book about her adoption, raising, and death of her child, I want to be gentle. The truth as I see it is that perhaps Didion and Dunne ought not have adopted a child. Not all people should be parents; it is one of the toughest thing you can do in life and your thoughts and considerations have to naturally be towards the welfare of the child. Didion mentions that modern parents seem to "helicopter" their children, i.e. micro-manage their lives as the grow up and I wonder if she writes that because she and Dunne seemed to do the opposite and Quintana was fit into their lives as writers and celebrities. There is, of course, a happy medium between "helicoptering" and being fairly lax in child-raising, and I think most of us do try to stay to that medium.

Quintana was adopted at birth in 1966 and given the name of "Quintana Roo", after the area of Mexico that Joan and John loved. That name, that ridiculous name, was probably the worst thing that Joan Didion and John Gregory Dunne did to their child. She accompanied them as they lived their lives and they loved her. They didn't always seem to understand her; she was a child, after all, and they gave her what they could of themselves. She grew up, and displayed emotional problems and was given different diagnoses by different doctors as the recognition and lingo of mental disorders changed. Bi-polar, they were told.

Didion also writes about Quintana's reaction to being adopted. Adopted children worry about being given way by their adoptive parents as they were by their birth parents. This is a natural worry and Didion and Dunne tried to deal with it. Then, in her late 20's, Quintana was contacted by her birth sister and "reunited" with that family. It didn't work well and Quintana backed off from those new relationships. Poor Quintana had a life privileged with money, reflected fame, and love, but it didn't seem enough. She died and she left her mother - Joan Didion - alone. And Didion was herself growing older and was becoming enfeebled by age. She's now 75 years old, a famous author, and she's trying to make sense of her mothering and of her daughter's life. Joan Didion and Quintana Roo Dunne deserved to grow old. Quintana, who married a year or so before her death, deserved a happy life. Was it her parents' fault she didn't have one? There are no guarantees in child-raising and Didion and Dunne did the best they could within their own limitations, which were manifold.

I found Blue Nights pretentious and self-absorbed. I mean how many times can a 75-year old author mention her black cashmere leggings and glass bead necklaces? Writing about her fears and phobias may be therapeutic, but, hey, I don't feel the need to publish all my journal writings.

My daughter, age 20, passed away 11 months ago so I was drawn to this book given Didion lost her only child as well. I used the store's "Look Inside" feature to read some pages of the books. I have decided NOT to purchase the book because I cannot relate to her loss. In the pages I did read, the content was distracting because she kept name dropping celebrities, designer clothes references, all the homes she had lived in. Her husband's "three Burberry coats" were still in his closet after he passed. Hmmmm, I got the gist of what she was saying, i.e. she hasn't gotten rid of his clothes, but why reference the brand name? And this happens over and over and I am eagerly looking to her experience of her daughter. It's like if I posted a picture of my daughter on Facebook and pointed out that here we are in Cannes, France and she is wearing her Stella McCartney dress with her Burberry coat, four inch Jimmy Choo heels with perfectly applied Chanel make up. Huh? I wear designer brands and have luxury vacations so I get it. Perhaps she uses all the extra words so we can really "see" within our minds what the outfit looked like? The issue I have with her overt, minute details is that everyone knows what a Burberry coat is but most people do know/can imagine what it is like to lose a daughter. Too much unimportant fluff on a very serious subject.

For someone who is allegedly such an intellectual, woman of the world, as we are told time and time again, she was an idiotic, self absorbed so called mother, starting with giving the poor girl that awful name. Why not write a book about her favotite subject - herself. Perhaps the girl would be alive and well if left with genetically inferior (poor) family although she may have had fewer sundries. People deal with grief differently of course, but one gets the sense she misses her husband much more than her accessory child.

Read this if you like reading an endless list of expensive items, but no diapers, and name dropping from 50 years ago. Ms. Didion seems to think it charming that she was so clueless about motherhood. Here's a clue, if 10% of this is true, you and your husband were pathetic.

Joan Didion's slim memoir "Blue Nights" is mostly about the life and death of her daughter Quintana Roo in 2005, at the age of 39. Quintana's death came after a year and a half of failing health and was preceded by the death of Joan's husband and Quintana's father, John Gregory Dunne, in late 2003. Didion wrote a previous memoir, "The Year of Magical Thinking" about Dunne's sudden death.

As a mother myself, I cannot think of anything worse than a child's death. Nothing. So when writing my review of Joan Didion's book about her adoption, raising, and death of her child, I want to be gentle. The truth as I see it is that perhaps Didion and Dunne ought not have adopted a child. Not all people should be parents; it is one of the toughest thing you can do in life and your thoughts and considerations have to naturally be towards the welfare of the child. Didion mentions that modern parents seem to "helicopter" their children, i.e. micro-manage their lives as the grow up and I wonder if she writes that because she and Dunne seemed to do the opposite and Quintana was fit into their lives as writers and celebrities. There is, of course, a happy medium between "helicoptering" and being fairly lax in child-raising, and I think most of us do try to stay to that medium.

Quintana was adopted at birth in 1966 and given the name of "Quintana Roo", after the area of Mexico that Joan and John loved. That name, that ridiculous name, was probably the worst thing that Joan Didion and John Gregory Dunne did to their child. She accompanied them as they lived their lives and they loved her. They didn't always seem to understand her; she was a child, after all, and they gave her what they could of themselves. She grew up, and displayed emotional problems and was given different diagnoses by different doctors as the recognition and lingo of mental disorders changed. Bi-polar, they were told.

Didion also writes about Quintana's reaction to being adopted. Adopted children worry about being given way by their adoptive parents as they were by their birth parents. This is a natural worry and Didion and Dunne tried to deal with it. Then, in her late 20's, Quintana was contacted by her birth sister and "reunited" with that family. It didn't work well and Quintana backed off from those new relationships. Poor Quintana had a life privileged with money, reflected fame, and love, but it didn't seem enough. She died and she left her mother - Joan Didion - alone. And Didion was herself growing older and was becoming enfeebled by age. She's now 75 years old, a famous author, and she's trying to make sense of her mothering and of her daughter's life. Joan Didion and Quintana Roo Dunne deserved to grow old. Quintana, who married a year or so before her death, deserved a happy life. Was it her parents' fault she didn't have one? There are no guarantees in child-raising and Didion and Dunne did the best they could within their own limitations, which were manifold.