Julie & Julia

Written by Julie Powell, possibly the most well known blogger of the century, and now made into a fantastic film starring Amy Adams and Meryl Streep, Julie & Julia is an autobiographical portrayal of Julie Powell’s “year of cooking dangerously.” The by-product of a personal project that harboured a few surprises, catastrophes, and an unexpected path to contented enlightenment, this book is one that I am fine to have read, but in all honesty I would not be in any big rush to read it again. And, believe me, it’s hard for me to say that as a blogger who has herself been inspired by Julie’s personal story. In truth, it was watching the film Julie & Julia that made me want to start a blog and have personal projects of my own; although I now think I have too many and they will occupy my free time for the next two decades. Anyway, this is not about me… 

Living in a “crappy” apartment and trapped in a job that she utterly despises, Julie Powell sees life passing her by. With her thirtieth birthday looming over her, she finds herself one night in a Korean market buying the exact ingredients for Potage Parmentier, as described in Julia Child’s legendary cook book: Mastering the Art of French Cooking. And so the project is born. Julie begins to cook: 365 days, 524 recipes and blogs each and every one of her successes and failures. Soon the Project is her all-consuming reason for being, but along the way she has a few realisations that not only affect her cooking, but her life. 

Although it is a mere 310 pages long and, compared with Jane Eyre (the book I read previously), a walk in the park, I found Julie & Julia interesting, but at the same time tedious and somewhat annoying. I suppose one reason for this is because the content is actually quite (I don’t want to say “boring” because that’s not the right word) lacklustre, in that she records all these dramas and disasters… and that seems to be all she does. Don’t get me wrong, the drama and conflict is what generally engages the reader, but to have each chapter devoted to disaster after disaster just gave the book the feeling that it was just a way of venting and whining about how miserable her life was at the time. I will be the first to admit that people, women in particular, do love to whine. For us, it’s like breathing, but there is a time and a place… and in Julie’s case, a format for it. 

This was one of the rare times where I watched the film first before reading the book. And after completing it, I have come to the conclusion that it is not always better to read the book first. My mum tried to read the book and gave up not a hundred pages in. Julie’s recounts of her project, her feelings, and her conflicts take on a very conversational tone, a tone that I personally think works online, on blogs, on the computer screen etc, but just really isn’t quite right for a book. Having said this, there aren’t many ways you can write an autobiography, they do leave a lot to be desired, which is maybe why I don’t tend to read that many of them (I found myself struggling through Russell Brand’s Booky Wook). I don’t know, the repetition of personal tragedies combined with the conversational timbre of the book, made it sometimes engaging, but there was only so much you could take. 

Filled with French food, marital humps, domestic dramas, butter, the odd bit of blogging, and a few segments of Mastering the Art of French Cooking scattered throughout, Julie & Julia was a read that I sometimes found entertaining, but ultimately just felt like I was on the receiving end of a rant. To be sure, I am glad that I have read it, but I’m sure I could still have lived a full and contented life if I didn’t.