The Best of Everything by Rona Jaffe is uncomfortable on so many levels.
High Point: The resolutions are tight and satisfying with a mixture of sadness and humor.
Low Point: It’s a bit like the literary version of “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.” When will it end?
Author: Rona Jaffe
Publication Date: 1958
Genre: Fiction
Project Gutenberg: Not available
LibriVox: Not available
Movie/TV Adaptation: The Best of Everything (1959); The Best of Everything (TV series)(1970)
The Best of Everything by Rona Jaffe is uncomfortable on so many levels.
To begin with, it’s uncomfortable because it’s not the kind of book typically picked up by someone in my demographic: old guy. This novel is about five young women setting out on careers and relationships in New York City in 1952. It was chosen for a book discussion by one of my reading groups. It was a good choice, and, of course, it’s not a bad thing to get outside your norms—especially if it makes you a little uneasy.
It’s uncomfortable because of its depiction of the supporting male characters. They range from the lecherous drunk at the office party to the jerk who’s in the relationship just for the sex to the empathetic fella who’s sensitive, caring and knows just what to say every time. It’s uncomfortable because I think I’ve met all these guys.
It’s uncomfortable because the women in the novel expect the men in the office and elsewhere to hit on them constantly, and be generally demanding and condescending. And they simply accept it. That’s uncomfortable because that’s the way it really was, and to a lesser degree, still is, I suppose.
Any book that evokes a reaction like this is a good one. But the shine begins to tarnish just over halfway when the text gets repetitious and tedious. How many different ways can a character express an undying love for the guy who left her for someone else just before the wedding? Or for the married guy who can’t leave his wife? And on and on.
It’s like the literary version of “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.” When will it end?
When it does finally end, the resolutions are tight and satisfying with a mixture of sadness and humor.
The Best of Everything won’t be the best book you’ll ever read. But I wish I had read it when I got started in the 1980s. And if you are of a certain age, it may be a walk down memory lane—albeit a somewhat uncomfortable one.
