The day I was 18, Sally and I had a reunion because we were still friends though we saw less and less of each other. We went to Pupi’s, a place devoted to cake, overlooking the Strip. I invited her to this surprise birthday party my mother was giving me that night (though she would never do anything so unforgivable as actually surprise me; I hate surprises).Read more.
No one chronicled–or lived–the 60s in LA like Eve Babitz. Her work has languished out of print for much too long. Now, at last, she’s being celebrated not just for her beauty and for the long list of men she inspired and caroused with before they became art and music superstars, but for her writing.
In the linked vignettes in Eve’s Hollywood, we experience what it was like to come of age in a lost bohemia and to grow into a writer who would chronicle a decade and time and place that now only exists in the pages of this book. The parties and scenes of decadence and adventure mingle with reminiscences of Hollywood High, with its 50 foot mural of Rudolph Valentino. Trash and treasure glitter together in Eve’s worldview and are often indistinguishable.
Imagine a Joan Didion who likes food and drugs and rock and roll and fun, or a Weetzie Bat a couple of decades early: that’s Eve Babitz. We hope you also find her writing irresistible.
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