Customer Reviews

I'm Too Young To Be Seventy: And Other Delusions

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Can Judith Viorst actually be in her seventies? Where have the years gone? I Googled her and, sure enough, Viorst was born in Newark, New Jersey in 1931. Therefore, she is eminently qualified to write this lively book of poetry called, "I'm Too Young to Be Seventy and Other Delusions."

Although I haven't reached seventy yet, I can certainly appreciate Viorst's clever and amusing poems. In "Body Heat," Viorst claims that she and her husband squabble about how hot or cold the house should be. She and Milton are "thermostatically incompatible." I can relate to that. "As Time Goes By" deals with how fast time flies as one grows older. Yes, that's true. In "Teeth," Viorst admits that frequenting the offices of a periodontist and an endodontist is so costly, that dentures would probably be more cost effective. Can't argue with that. In "They May Be Middle Aged, But They're Still My Children," the author decries the fact that her offspring have outgrown their need for motherly advice. What nerve!

Viorst's poems are topical and fun. The author has always been able to laugh at herself, and as we read her poetry, we laugh along with her as we nod in recognition. Judith Viorst gets the fact that, although most people are reluctant to grow old, they desperately want to enjoy the perks of reaching their golden years in good health.

I enjoyed this slim volume and I hope that I will be privileged to reach seventy someday with a smile on my face and a poem in my heart. "I'm Too Young to Be Seventy" would make a fine gift for the beloved septuagenarian in your life.

I purchased this book to give to a friend who was retiring at 70. I am glad that I "went through" it before wrapping it. It is a comical book, but does not work for a lady who is not married, has never been married, and has no grandchildren, otherwise a cute gift. Now, I have it in my "gift giving" pile and will wait to find the right person to give it to. In the meantime, I need to find another "funny"for the retiring lady.

My wife and I have enjoyed her books since It's Hard to be Hip Over 30. Time has flown by. Her poems are funny and poignant. She tells it like it is. I hope she and we will be around for the 80's and 90's.

I turn each decade just about a year after Judith Viorst and, up until turning 70, thoroughly enjoyed each lovely, funny, poignant, sad and uplifiting book in the series. I own every one of the books, starting with the wonderful first book that took me into my third decade. I have given them as gifts to friends, so it really saddens me to say that "I'm Too Young to be Seventy" just lacks the immediacy, the OMG, that is exactly right feel. Perhaps, after six decades of being right on track with each other, Judith and I took different forks in the road, but I don't think so. It just seems that this book tries too hard. Maybe it is a bit too upbeat. Where is the angst for me to cuddle up with? There were a couple of chuckles (not enough), but not a tear to be spilled. One does not turn 70 without a few tears. The book painfully strains, and ususally fails, to capture whatever it is that makes turning 70 what it is, wonderful and really terrible, and most of all, unbelievably and scarily mind-boggling. Yes, yes, condsidering the alternatives and all that, but who really spends much time considering the alternatives. So sad not to enter my Seventies with Judith by my side.

I bought this book for an older friend turning 70, and -- laughing out loud -- read it before wrapping. It's not only witty (and thoughtful) for those turning 70, but for those of us who will someday reach 70, and have friends of 70.
Sometimes I feel I have grown up with Judith Viorst. She is enough older that her age milestone books are out and available before I turn 30, 40 50, and on.
I first became familiar with her when "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day" became a favorite of my first son. That must have been in the 1970s, and because the book was not only funny but so very wise about life and all its perplexities, I eventually sought out everything she wrote. I especially recommend "Necessary Losses" from her more serious books.
If you haven't read Viorst, get this for a take on turning 70 with grace and humor. Then read the rest of her books too! Necessary Losses: The Loves, Illusions, Dependencies, and Impossible Expectations That All of Us Have to Give Up in Order to Grow Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day The Tenth Good Thing About Barney Suddenly Sixty And Other Shocks Of Later Life

Judith Viorst has been describing the decades as she matures - with humor, understanding, and appreciation of the things lost and gained. My only complaint - the book's too short!

I have all of Judith Viorst's books in this series and have loved them all. The first one was It's Hard To Be Hip Over Thirty And Other Tragedies Of Married Life. Each decade from that first one through this one has been a real companion. They make the perfect birthday gift for your women friends. Every woman relates to Judith Viorst's take on growing up and growing older.

Another in the series of whimsical poetry books on aging. The problem with these poems, beyond their obviousness, is Viorst's reluctance to grow old. For those of us who flaunt every wrinkle and gray hair we've earned, some of this seems shallow. Dieting at 70? Gimme a break!

I purchased this book as a gift for my cousin's 70th birthday and of course perused it myself. The birthday lady, as well as everyone present for her celebration enjoyed the poems and quips, and we laughed out loud as we all read them.

Like all of Judith Viorst's efforts (an entire series of "ages," all of them appropriate & lovely), this boOk was a gift for a beloved woman. (Yes, she was given all the previous books.) Her daughter was given (by us) the "I'm Too Young to Be Forty" (cheering up a celebration that cold have been otherwise sort of grim -- "Oh, my God, forty!! I'm sunk!"
Ms. Viorst if a wonderful, surprising writer, I will spare you my take on her work, but suffice to say: Try One.