Customer Reviews

The Woman at the Washington Zoo: Writings on Politics, Family, and Fate

5 star:		(20)
4 star:		(10)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

And I. . . .
this print of mine, that has kept its color
Alive through so many cleanings; this dull null
Navy I wear to work, and wear from work, and so
To my bed, so to my grave, with no
Complaints, no comment: neither from my chief,
The Deputy Chief Assistant, nor his chief--
Only I complain. . . . this serviceable
Body that no sunlight dyes, no hand suffuses
But, dome-shadowed, withering among columns,
Wavy beneath fountains--small, far-off, shining
In the eyes of animals, these beings trapped
As I am trapped but not, themselves, the trap,
Aging, but without knowledge of their age,
Kept safe here, knowing not of death, for death--
Oh, bars of my own body, open, open
Randall Jarrell "The Woman At The Washington Zoo"

Marjorie Williams died of liver cancer last year. Her husband has put together her columns/essays, some of them published and some of them are new, into this book. He titled the book from the poem written by Randall Jerrell. They are extraordinary stories, and the most extraordinary is the story of her diagnosis. She tells us about the physicians she visited, the tests she endured, the support of family and friends, and the hope that she would overcome. We know now, of course, that she did not. But, in the telling of her story and that of many other people and their relationships, she opens up her world to us.

Her columns/essays of the people who inhabit Washington are personal. How Clinton told Gore why he lost the election, and how their relationship mattered. Looking into Richard Dorman's closet and playing ping pong. Barbara Bush, the Head of the Bush household, so frightened her mother-in-law, that she did not want to cross her. We read of the personal stories of Marjorie Williams, her life, her family, women and their careers, her cancer and her legacy. One of the most endearing stories is that of helping her daughter dress as a rock star on Halloween night. She was able to picture her daughter in a prom dress and all of the events in her daughter's life that she might miss if her cancer did not abate.

Marjorie Williams wrote for "The Washington Post" and "Slate" on-line. She was a remarkable woman in many ways. She was able to combine her career with that of wife, mother and friend. She gave to others as we all do, but she did not expect much in return. The love of her family was the highest priority. The liver cancer cut her life short, but it did not stop her from living her life. Her husband, Timothy Noah, edited her columns/essays and in the process brought Marjorie Williams back to life in print.
Highly Recommended. prisrob

You will close this book and mourn that there won't be 30 more years of insight and delicious wit from this great writer. She could do everything: the laser-precise profile; social commentary that made you see events with new understanding; personal essays of heart-stabbing clarity.
Her pieces about living with illness and facing death will enter the canon of literature on how to live and die.
Her loss echoes throughout this book, yet it is a volume full of pleasure. Anyone who loves great writing will luxuriate in spending time with this writer working at the height of her powers.

The title of journalist Marjorie William's posthumous collection of writings, profiles and columns says it all. The first third focuses on her political interviews with the Washington "elite"; the middle portion is her musings on her family; and the final section is heart-rending as she profiles her four year battle against fate & lung cancer which ended her life at the age of 47 earlier this year.

From an alcoholic literary family, Ms. Williams was brilliant at Harvard, ambitious in her work with Joni Evans at Viking Press before launching another career in her mid-twenties at The Washington Post, and an exacting wordsmith where writing was her gift but her family was her life. (A comparable life of the poet Jane Keynon was published this year by her husband Donald Hall: "The Best Day, The Worst Day." Ms. Keynon was another gifted wordsmith who would also die at the age of 47.)

Her husband picked the best of her observations on life and politics from Vanity Fair and The Washington Post. It is amazing how many politicians would allow themselves to be interviewed by her, when time after time, she would be brutally honest in her attention to details and her summations. "The Woman at the Washington Zoo" is best read as memoir celebrating a life fully lived and tragically cut short for her family. How do you live, knowing that you will die sooner than later and leave your two young children behind? This book is that answer.

Rarely does a book exceed my expectations, but this one did. I hadn't heard of Marjorie Williams till I read a news story about the book.

Williams died prematurely, at age 47, leaving two young children as well as a legacy of writing. Her husband collected the writings as a tribute to his wife and a pleasure to the reader.

Like any collection of columns, some will appeal more than others. Some topics seem dated, especially the Bill Clinton stories, and some obscure, such as the story of Richard Darman. The tone and style vary considerably.

But every so often Williams really captures a truth in a truly fresh and unique way, and that's what makes the book worth reading.

Writing about Princess Diana's death, she reminds us that almost every woman shares the experience of getting into a car with a man who really shouldn't be driving. And we feel powerless and sometimes really are.

The Barbara Bush essay seems more timely than ever, especially after the famous Hurricane Katrina remark ("They're better off now...") Some Texans had told me they're not fond of the former First Lady, shaking their heads when I asked why. And it's not surprising that George Sr. was a famous flirt with his own indiscretions and affairs.

And we get a rare discussion of Jeb Bush, W's brother, where Williams wonders which is worse: watching your older brother become prominent or suspecting your younger brother is handsomer and smarter.

Other essays are all over the map - everything from her child's relationship to insects to somber, rather abstract discussions of sexual harassment, in separate essays about Bill Clinton and Clarence Thomas. Not being a parent, I can't relate to her tales of parenting, but of course most readers will.

The best part of this book comes in the last section, dedicated to Williams's living and dying with liver cancer. Calmly, matter-of-factly, without the slightest whining, she shows us what it's like to know you're going to die soon.

Many patients write about the concrete physical details of illness. Williams instead focuses on what it's like to deal with the medical system. She acknowledges that, on one level, she's privileged with excellent medical insurance and contacts who open doors. Jerome Groopman, the Harvard scientist who writes New Yorker pieces, sends encouragement and ideas.

Yet she still deals with hostile know-all doctors. Vividly she describes a female physician who literally wrestles her chart away. She describes arrogant doctors who show up two hours late, only to offer insults and diminish hope. And she challenges the "heroic doctor" stereotype, arguing that Howard Dean's medical background makes him a bad candidate for political office. Doctors have secrets, she says. And they contradict each other without explanation or apology.

Worst of all, her cancer advanced because of a careless clerical error committed by her first general practice physician. Somehow he had managed to confuse her chart with someone else's, her soaring cell counts with another patient's clean bill of health.

If this could happen to Marjorie Williams, the rest of us can despair. Readers like me (staunch medico-phobes) will be reinforced. Her last sentence hangs in the air long after the book has been put down. After sending her young daughter off to a Halloween party, she reflects that she was playing the part of the "fifty-two year old mother I will probably never be. It was effortless."

Two months later, the book tells us, she was gone.

Mr. Noah has succeeded in compiling a breathtaking collection of his wife's works. Marjorie comes to life through her writing and it is a bittersweet experience, as you long to know much, much more.

Each chapter can be read alone, standing by itself, but each is so well written that I have found it difficult to put the book down. I highly recommend this book, for its insights into people, politics, parenting, and life/death.

For all the ardent readers of "Washington Post" and/or "Vanity Fair", the dynamic writing style of Marjorie Williams is all too familiar. And, that trend is evident in this neatly bound book.
Contrary to the first impression one might get by looking at its cover, this book ("The Woman at the Washington Zoo:...") has nothing to do with ornithology. Rather, it is an eloquent masterpiece, which intrusively ramified the ebullient outlook of nearly all the movers and shakers of Washington D.C. in the last quarter century. All the notable names were included. Though, the author's decision not to extend the pages of this book farther than 384 may leave readers feeling that it was a bit over-summarized. Still, the fact that it is a posthumously published work evokes reasonable understanding.
Having been down with terminal cancer, Marjorie Williams might never have had enough time and strength to extensively expand the story (as were often her trademark throughout her long active days). May her soul rest in peace.
The gists of this book spanned through politics, family, and fate; and the characters of all the 'players' bore their true-life semblance. The same applies to their individual drives: very insightful! But as the dusk sets and the chapters trickle down to the finish-line, emotions resurrected. The focus of the book (expectedly) shifted to the author's impending death. Hers was a calm and collected narrations; yet, emotions could be perceived. It was in the air. It is natural; and I did feel the pinch. Oh God! Adieu Marjorie!

In her unfortunately short life Marjorie Williams was a woman in a man's town reporting from a slightly different viewpoint. Her stories, her editorials told a side of the story that gives an insight into just how the people in Washington work. Notice the word 'people.' Ms Williams wrote from a people view. Her lengthy 'Profiles' cover the men that are perhaps just to one side of the powerful (Vernon Jordan, Jeb Bush) and provide some insight into relationships (Bill Clinton and Al Gore). Her shorter essays cover points that both entertain and educate.

You don't really know the stories until the books come out. This is one of those books that take the time to provide a deeper insight into Washington antics than we normally see. And in her writing we see it from a different angle.

Finally there are the stories on the cancer that killed her which give us an insight into a way to live. Forty seven, with two young children is an awfully young time to go. We can only hope to do as well as she did when our own time inevitably comes.

This book was recommended to me on one of the dozen or so blogs I read daily. The blogger said that he couldn't put it down. Neither could I. I really enjoy books like this. (I also highly recommend Meg Greenfield's _Washington_.) I'm only sorry that I couldn't enjoy Mrs. Williams' work until after her death.

This collection of articles is first rate. From its in-depth profiles of such characters as Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, Barbara Bush, and Vernon Jordon to its more personal reflections on Mrs. Williams' childhood and experience with liver cancer, this book really captures the interest of the reader and hangs on for dear life. I simply could not put it down.

I used to read Marjorie Williams in the Washington Post, and was reminded of her work when her exceptionally moving essay "Hit by Lightning" was in a "best of" book by multiple authors. It was so good that I simply had to read this collection of only her work.

The finest essays and profiles here are wonderful. The writing is outstanding, and ranges from great insight to humor and sadness and to the biting remark that takes down somebody famous a notch or two.

My favorites were (besides "Hit by Lightning"):

- "The Alchemist", a previously unpublished profile of her mother. What an exploration of a mother's relationship to her daughter and (presumably) perceptive view of her mother's life!

- "Scenes from a Marriage" - oh, my, how it drills into the relationship between Clinton and Gore, after the 2004 election and back into their time in office. This essay was justifiably well-known.

- "Bill Clinton, Feminist" - Ms. Williams shreds the feminists who defended President Clinton in his sexual escapades, while disregarding the women involved. She doesn't even break a sweat. Brutal and delightful reading.

- "The Halloween of My Dreams" - her final column, about her daughter's Halloween, the last Halloween Ms. Williams would see.

- The profiles of Jeb Bush and Barbara Bush, both of which offered fresh insights and information.

- Of the columns, many of which are first rate, I particularly liked the one on Princess Diana's death (I'm not sure why, to be honest) and one on assisted suicide.

The book actually got off to a slow start for me. The first two profiles were relatively dated and uninteresting, and the third, on Richard Darman, was wonderfully crafted, but I found myself not that curious about someone who moved rapidly into footnote status. However, Darman's profile had one of the best lines in the entire book: "As always, the vapor of self-certainty leaks off him like rocket fuel". Didn't these people know who they were up against in Marjorie Williams?

The short columns included are mostly very good, yet they also suffer from the usual fate of newspaper columns, in that they don't age that well, as the topic in hand often quickly becomes old news. Ms. Williams is far from alone in that fate, of course, so some of these pieces serve as a reminder of past news to reconsider with hindsight and contemplate what has happened since.