SERIOUS WOMEN

Image: Annie Spratt via Unsplash

A review of Lili Anolik's Didion & Babitz.

Published: November 12, 2024.

Genre: Nonfiction, biography.

Literary legends and celebrities Eve Babitz and Joan Didion are central figures in California's relatively recent literary tradition, one that also rose in tandem with rock and roll. Lili Anolik's close connection with Babitz in her later years and the discovery of Babitz's old correspondence after her passing affords an exclusive look into the writer and socialite's fascinating life that no journalist has done before.

In a conversation with my friend, she kept accidentally calling this book Eve & Babitz—Eve & Babitz—no Didion. Such an omission is not only a mistake but also a subconscious recognition of what the book actually is: Eve, more Eve, then of course the few moments when Joan and Eve’s orbits overlap. Anolik is conscious of this imbalance in attitude and content, and she states her bias a few times throughout and explicitly in the last chapter. This seems to be the book’s main issue—but does it have to be objective in order to be good or contain some level of truth? Not necessarily. After all, the best essays and pieces have a clear argument and opinion, developed and proven through their progression.

 

“In other words, Reader: don’t be a baby.”

 

Anolik’s direct addresses to the reader are somewhat jarring, and it is a natural response to meet her voice with resistance. Beyond the somewhat overly sentimental preface and confrontational reader’s note, the rest, what can be called 'the gossip’, is truly rewarding.

 

“Lastly, a warning: People are inclined to get a little soft in the head where Joan Didion is concerned.”

 

She points out a disparity between the (published and meticulously maintained) Didion-Dunn exterior and reality; while this might seem like ‘slander,’ it interrogates Joan in a way that is not often done. I feel that most people first encounter The Year of Magical Thinking, which seems difficult to critique since it is Joan’s grief and therefore sacred, not to mention that it is something that we can identify in our individual human experiences. Unfortunately, this makes the discourse around it (and the author) relatively one-dimensional, so it was interesting to see Anolik’s alternate presentation of Joan.

 

I see another issue arising from this book, and that is the anti-feminist interpretation. It seems that Anolik is pitting one woman against another, criticizing one in order to bring up another. However, to neglect questioning either writer in an effort to promote a ‘girl’s-girl’ narrative is to refuse to engage with the complexities that women contain. Whatever animosity Eve had towards Joan was no doubt exacerbated by the male-dominated world they worked in, and Anolik gestures to the cruelty that both women had to endure from a system and industry seeking to invalidate them. Considering Eve’s letters, Anolik has a reasonable basis for her argument—which is heavily skewed—but it is one that I do not believe is anti-feminist.

 

She wonderfully illustrates the Troubadour and Franklin Avenue scene, giving insight into the celebrity world and how shockingly casual it all is—how Harrison Ford used to be the Didion-Dunn’s carpenter, how everyone just knows everyone, and how everyone just sleeps with everyone. It’s scandalous and fascinating.

 

The main detriment of the book is that it is unfocused, too tangential. By the time sufficient background details are explained, it feels like the original point of the story has lost relevance. There is also a detour near the end, a close analysis (or rather intense praise) of Slow Days, which might be better suited as a stand-alone piece. But Anolik’s committed journalism has helped to preserve a significant portion of Eve’s life, and for that, whether you like it or not, her work is incredibly valuable.

Originally posted on Goodreads, March 8th, 2025.