Happy Sunday to you all. A little bonus post for you today from Hannah from Bonny & Clyde sharing a very honest review of our latest winter book club title.

For many of us, our first introduction to Drew Barrymore was when she burst onto our screens as the cutie pie, pigtailed Gertie in the 1982 film, ET. In fact, Drew actually made her first appearance on American screens when she was just 11 months old, and has always maintained a high profile amongst The Starlet Set.

Knowing what I did about her (and let’s face it, most of us know that child film stars never get it easy) I was more than intrigued to know just how tumultuous her upbringing had really been. Was it actually that wild? Was her relationship with her parents honestly that fractious and did she really spend the majority of her childhood hooked on a combination of alcohol and narcotics? Call me what you will but I wanted the dirt; the information from the inside and I’m not afraid to say it.

To set the record straight this is not an autobiography in the truest sense of the word. It is more a portrait of Drew’s life, written as a series of short tales which have all in some way influenced the path she has now taken. I’m still unsure why the decision was made to write these stories non chronologically; it’s confusing, flighty and well just plain odd, but in all honesty there were way bigger issues with this read.

Perhaps it’s the voyeuristic, celebrity obsessed culture that is to blame for my overall disappointment in this book. Or maybe there was an assumption that we had read the salacious tittle tattle and it was time to move on. Whatever the reasoning Drew is clear from the start where she is taking us.‘ I want this to be light,’ she exclaims. And light it really is. So light you could bake a cake with it, which I wouldn’t put past Barrymore as her boundless puppy dog enthusiasm and positivity radiates through every page. Punctuated with endless exclamation marks I struggled to keep up with the tales of why the down-town Launderette became her favourite hangout, and how her beaten up car became her loyal best friend. She has a tendency to ramble, to over emphasise the minor details but it appears that these details are not so minor to Drew. Of course this upbeat, skippy narrative is not a terrible thing is it? Barrymore has obviously (and very cleverly) steered her ship through the craziness of tinsel town and now finds herself with a loving family, her own beauty line and a highly lucrative production company. But I don’t want to know about that. Yes I wanted her to have a happy ending but I wanted her to teach me something. Show me how to steer my ship. At one point she describes her childhood as ‘hellish’. Show me Drew how hellish it was and show me how you came out on top. I want to know.

There are brief references to this troubled past; caring for her estranged father as he died from cancer and slight nods to her mother’s less than maternal instincts, but that’s exactly what they are. Brief. Instead we are subjected to diary esque musings which only add to the frustration that we aren’t gaining the insider knowledge that we think we might rightly deserve. Yes she is candid and warm and quite funny too. She’s quite obviously a girl’s girl and isn’t afraid of putting herself out there. Cameron Diaz is her best friend, Steven Spielberg her Godfather- she’s got one foot in Hollywood and the other firmly in carving out a stable future for her two girls. She is admirable to say the least and I liked her. However I sense this book was written for her children and personally I think it should have stayed firmly in their hands. Drew claims very early on that she felt she ‘had to write,’ she had to get these stories down on paper, but these musings feel hugely self-gratifying. I think it was also a mistake to assume that having an overwhelming urge to write will in some miraculous way make you very good at it. It won’t, and this is glaringly obvious here.

Drew describes herself as a ‘Wildflower’ and of that there is no doubt. My question as to how this wild child became such a flower though is not to be answered and I am very much left with my own conclusions. However, would I sit in a bar and chug a Bud with her should she ever call me up? Abso-bloomin’-lutely.

{WINTER READS}
  • IN BITTER CHILL
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  • SPARK JOY
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  • A Year of Marvellous Ways
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  • Wildflower
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