Shopgirl

It's a shame Steve Martin is such a bad actor (well, maybe more annoying than bad). It almost stopped me from reading his books. And that would have been a tragedy. Now, first off, a warning: this is not a plot driven book. While I enjoy the plot, it's not the point of reading this book. The point of reading this book is in the details that so many authors skip over. Like writing. Martin can turn a phrase as well as anyone in the business. His characters and scenery go together so well, a collection of fragile, endearing things. From greasy takeout in smoggy Los Angeles to Mirabelle falling asleep, it's all so soft and gentle that it vaguely pulls at your heartstrings. In fact, one of the great things about this book is that it's as show more gorgeous and pleasant to the touch on the outside as it is precious and elegant on the page.

This is a story of lonely, slightly disfunctional people that are, each in their own way, barely getting by in society. Mirabelle has just moved from the country, and is trying to deal with city life. Jeremy is a quintessential lovable loser, and the best thing going for him is that Mirabelle doesn't really know anyone else. Ray is going through a mid-life crisis in his relationships. I wouldn't say that hilarious hijinks ensue, but it is definitely worth the time to read. show less

Well, glancing down at the last review when I started writing this, I see I like this more than that reviewer did. Why?

Firstly, it's concise - to me, a virtue. Secondly, it's pretty tough on the very human trait of self-delusion without being too censorious. The only people it doesn't really spare are those who see relationships from an unashamedly predatory viewpoint. Thirdly, as you'd expect, it's funny. Though undeniably a male take on relationships and motivation, it's a fairly nuanced one, albeit delivered more as commentary than narrative.

Seeing the film adaption afterwards, I felt it works better as a novella. Despite the brevity, there's more depth to it. Would I have read it if it wasn't by Steve Martin? Probably not, as my show more motivation was to see how well he'd write fiction. show less

Well, I started this yesterday, and finished it today. Admittedly it isn't terribly long, but a two day read is still indicative of enjoyment for me! I watched the film over the weekend, and then read the book this week. I was afraid to do it in the reverse, but I liked them both very much! (Steve Martin may not have been the best choice for Ray Porter...but I didn't think he was bad, King.)

I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised to some degree. I guess I hadn't realized Mr. Martin's multi-talentedness. But, there were moments of real brilliance in there! "He doesn't understand the subtleties of slights and pains, that it is not the big events that hurt the most but rather the smallest questionable shift in tone at the end of a show more spoken word that can plow most deeply into the heart." Perceptively true, and poignantly moving. His obvious sense of humor pops in now and then as well. I should have been disappointed if it hadn't!

I related over much to Mirabelle's character at times, maybe that is why I like it so much? The Andrew Wyeth mention was the clincher though.

Thanks King, this is now counted amongst my favorites...the book and the film! show less

Martin writes with a clear vision of what he wants you to see for yourself. He colors his views with strong language that is crystal clear. He sets up a dreamy, placid and tender scene that will be brought to an abrupt end in the story and he also abruptly ends it for the reader by using harsh wording or crude language. He connects characters he doesn’t like with more harsh language than the characters he does.

One thing I found disconcerting was the candid observations of other people. Some of them cut the character open to the core and were none too flattering. These observations sometimes seemed like Mirabelle’s own, and thus made her seem more callous and cynical than I think Steve wanted her to seem.

I really enjoyed this book and read it very quickly. (For me, at least. I like to savor my books. I do enough on a timeline for work.) Unlike other reviews I've read here, I didn't find the book incredibly gender stereotyped. It annoyed me far less than Bridget Jones' Diary, for example.

Perhaps some of my sympathy from Mirabelle comes from the fact that I am married to a man who is dysthymic, and mood ups and downs and medication changes are all par for the course and sometimes extremely difficult. Perhaps some of my sympathy comes from the fact that I had moved to LA for graduate school around the same age and had similarly lonely times as a result. I enjoyed the realism and messiness of feelings and understandings and relationships.

I show more was really riveted by the use of the omniscient narrative voice here, and I didn't miss dialog or feel that I was being told; rather, the narrative voice was a distinct character in itself, and the book would have been missing a great deal in a more conventional narrative.

Interesting story well told. show less

It's confirmed. I have a bit of a crush on Steve Martin.

Sensory descriptions like this make me weak in the knees:

...the various scents that have been sprayed throughout the day onto waiting customers have collected into strata in the department store air. So Mirabelle, at five-six, always smells Chanel number 5, while someone at five-two is always treated to the heavier Chanel number 19.

I love that I can almost visualize the strata, and I immediately imagine walking through that store with girlfriends of different heights and each of us thinking that the store smells like something different.

Mirabelle (played by Claire Danes in the movie, which is coming up on my Netflix queue as soon as I catch up on Downton Abbey) is a salesgirl in show more the nearly deserted gloves department of an upscale department store in souther California. Shopgirl is primarily the story of Mirabelle and two men: one a slacker type (played by Jason Schwartzman) with whom Mirabelle becomes passively involved, the other an older and wealthier businessman (played by Martin himself) with whom Mirabelle finds herself in an unexpectedly deep relationship. The former is described thusly:

He never complicates a desire by overthinking it, unlike Mirabelle, who spins a cocoon around an idea until it is immobile.

This kind of pithy insight into his characters' emotions is one of Martin's great strengths as a writer.

You know how sometimes you look up from a book, or work, or a good conversation, and realize it's gotten dark outside without you realizing it? In other words, a dramatic change has occurred, but so gradually that you can't pinpoint when it happened. I felt that way about the unfolding of the characters' personalities; by the end of the book I felt that I fiercely understood Mirablle, but I can't point to a specific moment when I began to understand her motivations. As a whole, though, I thoroughly enjoyed the characters' journey, though at times it seemed largely a passive one.

I withheld a star because of the ending. Whereas the rest of this novella was marked by the slow, quiet progress of three characters' lives, the last several pages were composed of clipped summaries that spanned months and years in just a few short paragraphs. It felt rushed and abridged after the patient pace of the rest of the book, and left me feeling disappointed and unsatisfied. Still, I liked the rest of it so much that I recommend Shopgirl rather highly if you're in need of a short book that is mostly sweet but has a thread of melancholy. But if you have time for something longer, pick up Martin's An Object of Beauty instead. show less

Something about Steve Martin hosting the National Book Awards several years ago should have made me consider that maybe there was more to him than just the showman, the comedian, the genius behind so many movies I grew up loving. I knew he had written many of his own screenplays, but (let's face it) while they were fun but they weren't exactly Shakespeare.

I think I should have taken more notice when K and I went to see Picasso at the Lapin Agile seven or eight years ago. It was being produced at the University, downtown, by the students there. It was good. Surprisingly good. And it showed a side of Steve Martin that you don't see when you're watching one of his (self-written or otherwise) movies.

I even saw Shopgirl: The Movie and liked show more it. But it didn't force me to consider at all that Steve Martin was a serious writer.

So when I read his autobiography, I was struck with how naturally his voice lent to the written word. It flowed poetically. It sort of made sense that his style was more fluid than visual. At the end of that book, he closes by telling us that he "retired" from the stand-up game to focus on his more serious interests: movies. And writing. So I picked Shopgirl off our shelves and gave it read.

The writing is awfully good. (Dammit. Seems a little unfair that the man could be that talented.) The story is character-driven, and as such, he's got very believable and interesting characters. Jeremy comes across better on the page than Jason Schwartzman portrayed him on the screen (I think it just needed to be toned down a little, J, that's all). Mirabelle and Ray are fleshed out almost beyond three dimensions.

If I had one criticism, it's that Steve seems to have chosen to tell certain things instead of show them. At first, I thought it was a common pitfall of many beginning writers (ha ha, beginning writer indeed), but the more I read through the book, the more I began to understand that it was a stylistic choice. It lent to the voice of the novel, which I recognized as Steve's own voice. He was telling the story and for these certain elements, there were no scenes to show. Period. Move on.

I might have done it differently. I might have made it longer. I might have added in more characters, gone into detail on their backgrounds. But then again, I'm not a published writer. Maybe that's why.

It's a lovely story. Sweet but not sticky. Touching but not overpowering. The movie does it justice, but the novel (novella, sorry Steve) is still worth reading. show less