Just prior to reading Diane Keaton’s memoir ‘Then Again’, I penned a self-deprecating post about our connection with hats.
I don’t recommend reading ‘Then Again’. While the content – especially her very close attachment to her strong-willed mother – was informative, Diane’s book was poorly written. Chapters did not flow in logical order and paragraphs rambled, making it difficult to follow her chronological life or grasp the fullness of her relationships with family and significant others.
Diane, in interviews, appears charmingly scattered while enthusiastically embracing many passions. In movies, she plays roles that maximize her eccentricity and her underpinning grit. In writing, she could have used a counterbalance to her free-wheeling.
Thus with some reluctance, I opened her recently published ‘Let’s Just Say It Wasn’t Pretty’. Fortunately this book is essays which, by definition, have more concise structure than a memoir.
Diane’s topic – beauty – and her broad application of that word held my interest, provoking musings on how the concept of beauty affects our sense of self.
I’m still learning how my ‘writing production’ works best. Right now, that’s filling copious notebooks with whatever is on my mind, and eventually a post writes itself. I have a few mind conversations ‘spinning’ from Diane’s book. Sooner or later they’ll coalesce for me right before they appear for you!