October 30, 2006
Trillin (A Heckuva Job: More of the Bush Administration in Rhyme
), a staff writer with the New Yorker
since 1963, has often written about the members of his family, notably his wife, Alice, whom he married in 1965. A graduate of Wellesley and Yale, she was a writer and educator who survived a 1976 battle with lung cancer. In 1981, she founded a TV production company, Learning Designs, producing PBS's Behind the Scenes
to teach children creative thinking; her book Dear Bruno
(1996) was intended to reassure children who had cancer. A weakened heart due to radiation treatments led to her death on September 11, 2001, at age 63. Avoiding expressions of grief, Trillin unveils a straightforward, honest portrait of their marriage and family life in this slim volume, opening with the suggestion that he had previously mischaracterized Alice when he wrote her into "stories that were essentially sitcoms." Looking back on their first encounter, he then focuses on her humor, her beauty, her "child's sense of wonderment," her relationship with her daughters and her concern for others. Trillin's 12-page "Alice, Off the Page" was published earlier this year in the New Yorker
, and his expansion of his original essay into this touching tribute is certain to stir emotions.
Starred review from July 15, 2007
September 11, 2001, was a day of devastation for Trillin, but while he was sharing the grief of the nation over the World Trade Center attacks, he was privately mourning the passing of the most important person in his life. After a long battle with lung cancer, his wife, Alice, died during the early afternoon of 9/11, when the eyes of everyone else were focused on an unspeakable horror. She left him with a lifetime of memories about a highly successful marriage that he often chronicled in his wittyNew Yorker articles and that afforded him the opportunity to share this remarkable woman with his readers. To use a tired literary cliché, Alice was his muse, his chance to see the world through an intelligent, creative, and often unpredictable partner. As is the case with many successful marriages, Alice kept her husband grounded for the most part but realized that he needed to be free in order to write the books and articles that touched the lives of so many. In fact, Trillin states that he is still receiving love and encouragement from Alice, and that, dear listeners, is the sign of a happy marriage. Read by Trillin and brief though it may be, this is one of the strongest and most touching love letters you will ever have the privilege to hear. Highly recommended.-Joseph L. Carlson, Allan Hancock Coll., Lompoc, CA
Copyright 2007 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.
February 26, 2007
Trillin's narration of his loving reminiscences of his late wife Alice might best be described as an "unobtrusive" narration: he steps back and lets the words speak for themselves. Unlike many other autobiographical narrators, he does not try to create the illusion of spontaneity or intimacy, as though speaking directly to the listener. He reads clearly and with expression, but it is always obvious that he is reading from a printed text. As a result, this audio offers the same experience as reading the printed version: the listener is deeply moved by the words and gets a vivid picture of this complex and admirable woman, but the narration itself does not add additional emotional nuance or insight beyond what is in the words themselves. But the words are so powerful that Trillin's love and admiration for Alice still shine through. Simultaneous release with the Random House hardcover (Reviews, Oct. 30).