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22 of 23 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
But Nobody Is Funnier Than Betty, February 26, 2002
I discovered Betty MacDonald when I was about twelve years old, after checking The Egg and I out of the Carmichael Branch library here in Sacramento, about 22 years after it was first published. My parents had mentioned that the egg ranch Betty lived on with her first husband in the 1920s, which she writes about in The Egg and I, was located some miles from the place where we lived in Washington state, in the late 1950s. Furthermore, they had actually taken a day trip with friends to look at the old place, sometime after the book and the movie of the same name came out in the 1940s. This familial connection, however faint, to an old, famous book and the movies it inspired, piqued my childish mind, and I eagerly started reading about life on a chicken ranch on the Olympic Penninsula. I fell in love with Betty's easy, friendly, hysterically funny, down-to-earth yet somehow elegant prose, and immediately checked out her other autobiographical books: The Plague and I, Anybody Can Do Anything, and Onions In The Stew. In all of her autobiographical books save Onions In The Stew, Betty uses the first chapter to presage her theme by describing her experiences as a child in a large, boisterous family, in loving and extremely funny detail. In Anybody Can Do Anything, Betty describes life with her family and her two young daughters, Anne and Joan, in Seattle after she has left her husband and the egg ranch behind. The Depression is on, and Betty, now a single mother, struggles with her large and interesting clan to make ends meet, somehow finding a lot of laughs and funny adventures, often with her exuberant sister Mary, the inspiration for the book, along the way. Anyone who is interested in what life was like in Seattle in the 1930s, in witty character descriptions, and in a personal glimpse of how families coped with the "Great Depression", will find this book fascinating, not to mention frequently hilarious. Betty, I miss you and the way you used to make me laugh out loud--I was sad when I finished reading Onions In The Stew for the first time and then realized it was the last autobiographical book you wrote: the tuberculosis finally caught up with you in 1958, when I was only four years old, still living in Washington, not far from your home on Vashon Island. I re-read your books many times as I grew up, even visited Vashon Island, and often wished I could have met you and your family. It's silly, but I've always felt a sense of loss at never having known you, because I am sure you must have been a marvelous friend. Your sense of humor had a profound effect on me, and inspired me in my earliest writing attempts. It's been many years since I've read your books, but I've never forgotten your irrepressible, bona-fide funniness. Wherever you are, thank you!
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