A Pretty Girl's Book Review - Didion & Babitz by Lili Anolik

A Pretty Girl's Book Review - Didion & Babitz by Lili Anolik

When I first saw Didion & Babitz on the shelf of a cute little bookshop in D.C., I was filled with excitement over the premise. Reading the persuasive blurb, I felt a quiet serendipity – both in learning that these iconic women were intertwined during the wild ‘60s and ‘70s, and in how my own recent life had unexpectedly connected me to their work. I had already read and loved one of Eve Babitz’s books (Slow Days, Fast Company), and I had just bought my very first Joan Didion book only weeks earlier. So I, of course, immediately bought Didion & Babitz.

The book was inspired after Babitz’s death in 2021, when Anolik discovered diary-like letters in Babitz’s overwhelmingly cluttered apartment – letters Babitz’s mother stored away years earlier. Within them, the elusive yet renowned Joan Didion appears. From there, Anolik dusts off her Babitz obsession and gets to work – arguably positioning Babitz as the greater writer. 

If you’re a big fan of Eve Babitz, you’ll absolutely relish this book. If you’re a big fan of Joan Didion, you may find yourself borderline fuming by the midpoint. And if you’re a fan of both, like myself, you’ll likely be left conflicted, enlightened and yet, also deprived and thirsting to know more about these women.

I’m going to start off with my personal qualms with the book. First, the bias is raging throughout the entire book. Not only is this bias blatant to the reader, but Lili Anolik, the author, makes this confession herself halfway through the book: “Now, I won’t even try to pretend to be a disinterested party here. I’ve picked my side: Eve’s…Besides, Joan is somebody I naturally root against…” (p. 200). 

Aside from the blaring bias, this was my biggest issue with the book: the competition created between the two writers when it should've been an exploration. Their upbringings, romances, writing styles, personal and professional journeys, and even the ways in which sexism affected them are compared and contrasted, resulting in a reading atmosphere that pressures you to choose a “side”: Babitz, the hedonistic party girl, or Didion, the cool-eyed observer of hedonism. 

The book’s intention was to be journalistic, however, it comes across as a gossip column. And this is where I veer off my pessimistic course: that gossip-like quality is exactly what draws the reader in. The book is undeniably entertaining and keeps you hooked until the end. The entertainment, though, comes largely from the fact that Eve Babitz and Joan Didion were just overall fascinating people who lived fascinating lives. You’ll also pick up plenty of celebrity factoids along the way. Were they necessary? No. Were they interesting? 100%. And, to be honest, who doesn’t love to indulge in a little celebrity knowledge?

There’s no doubt you’ll learn more about both women – the small ways their lives intersected, the celebrities they knew and had relations with, their career choices, inspirations, and how they ultimately became who they were. If you love jaw-dropping gossip, drama and captivating women all wrapped up in the counterculture atmosphere of the ‘60s, then Didion & Babitz is worth picking up. I’d also recommend reading Babitz’s and Didion’s individual works to better understand them on their own terms – Babitz’s books often draw directly from her life in L.A., while Didion reflects on life and grief in her book Notes to John.

In the end, Didion & Babitz may not be the book it promises to be, but it is a book that entertains, provokes, and sends you running back to the work of two women who deserve to be read.

3 / 5 stars for me!