The author of Dalva and Legends of the Fall has created three stunning novellas that echo the best works of Raymond Carver and James Dickey. A superb collection that evokes life lived close to the land--and a brilliant portrayal of the complex relationships of the men and women there.
Jim Harrison was born in Grayling, Michigan, to Winfield Sprague Harrison, a county agricultural agent, and Norma Olivia (Wahlgren) Harrison, both avid readers. He married Linda King in 1959 with whom he has two daughters.
His awards include National Academy of Arts grants (1967, 68, 69), a Guggenheim Fellowship (1969-70), the Spirit of the West Award from the Mountain & Plains Booksellers Association, and election to the American Academy of Arts and Sciences (2007).
Much of Harrison's writing depicts sparsely populated regions of North America with many stories set in places such as Nebraska's Sand Hills, Michigan's Upper Peninsula, Montana's mountains, and along the Arizona-Mexico border.
Rilettura. Non integrale: del solo racconto più lungo, Sunset Limited, quello che regala il titolo italiano a questa breve raccolta. La mia conoscenza di Jim Harrison ne esce rafforzata, e migliorata: l’ho decisamente apprezzato più della prima volta (ventinove anni fa). Ho apprezzato come Harrison maneggia la materia, si tiene dentro il genere, ma sa prendersi godibili pause come questa che segue: È il momento di fare una piccola pausa, all’inizio dell’ultimo e più lungo capitolo della nostra favola. Fin dalla prima volta che è sbucato fuori dall’uovo, l’uomo non ha fatto che piangere. Per poi passare a una citazione dal Paradiso perduto di Milton, del quale è convinto che dopo l’incipit nessuno ha mai finito di leggere il suo poema.
È la storia di cinque amici, due donne e tre uomini, che si conoscono dai tempi del college, quando erano impegnati politicamente contro la guerra (Vietnam), facevano atti dimostrativi, proteste, sfilavano nei cortei, e hanno finito per pagare un’azione naive con un anno di carcere (versarono colla e sangue di bue sugli schedari dell’ufficio di leva). All’epoca si consideravano un mucchio selvaggio. Sono passati vent’anni, hanno più o meno perso le tracce gli uni delle altre. Ma adesso uno di loro, Zip, è in una prigione messicana, rischia il carcere a vita, e rischia addirittura la stessa vita. Gli altri quattro riallacciano i contatti e decidono di fare qualcosa per l’amico. Nel frattempo due di loro hanno fatto carriera e denaro: Billy è un grosso avvocato di diritto internazionale con studi legali più o meno ovunque, e Patty è diventata vicepresidente di uno studio cinematografico e produttrice di successo. Sam invece vive da eremita studiando i coyotes, e Gwen è tornata nel suo ranch in New Mexico, ha adottato una bambina cambogiana, e insieme sopravvivono col poco che la terra e l’allevamento forniscono.
Harrison racconta senza spreco di parole ma riuscendo comunque a fornirci una notevole massa di informazioni, e dettagli, e tocchi, e colori. È un piacere lasciarsi prendere dal flusso della storia, che conviene non raccontare oltre. E come giustamente rileva la bandella, Harrison è troppo ironico e alieno dai luoghi comuni per poter definire questo Società Tramonti un Grande Freddo, o un Marrakesh Express. Men che meno un Estrema Fortuna (Richard Ford).
BROWN DOG: The first of the Brown Dog novellas. I am, of course, reading them in reverse order, to no apparent detriment. Brown Dog is just one of my favorite characters.
SUNSET LIMITED: Five college friends who drifted into terrorist acts then, a bit of prison, and now highly successful careers. Except for Zip who either remained a terrorist or works for various governments. But he's in a Mexican prison, so the Big Chill group gets the band back together again. It's the kind of vehicle which would usually annoy me, but not in Harrison's hands. Here's a sample, a scene where Billy, one of the group who is now a billionaire international lawyer, is being chauffeured by his driver, Fred:
There was a traffic tie-up on Hollywood Freeway near the Barham exit and Fred brought Billy's attention to something quite unpleasant: a tall and pathetically thin man with very long hair was standing nude on the balcony of an apartment house playing with himself. "Maybe he's waiting for the right model car to get off," Fred joked. "That's it. He's waiting for a blue Lamborghini." Billy watched the man stroking himself and thought, inaccurately, that this couldn't happen in the Bay Area. He glanced around and saw that other drivers, also stuck in the traffic, were also watching. An older woman was laughing. Perhaps that was the right attitude but Billy didn't quite have it in him. The truth was that Billy was beginning to delaminate. Everyone started beeping at the naked man and Billy slumped down in the seat and rubbed his face, then opened his briefcase in panic for something to do. "That's a real weird way to show the world you're lonely," Fred said, accelerating violently as the traffic loosened up.
It's banal, first, and funny, second. Then it's anything but. One man masturbates in public, completely naked. Another man hides in his briefcase and rubs his face. So simple. So why did I read it and then re-read it a dozen times? Is Fred's question directed to the naked man, or to Billy?
THE WOMAN LIT BY FIREFLIES: Such a lovely title. Once again, the story, being ethereal, was not something I'd run to. But once again Harrison made me want to know what would happen and what it all means.
This was my first Jim Harrison book but it won't be my last. Like many of his books, this one consists of several, unrelated novellas. Each are great in their own right, but two in particular stand out. First, there's "Brown Dog," which is one of the funniest pieces of fiction I've read in a while; Harrison had me laughing out loud nearly once a page. Irreverent, boisterous, bawdy, and utterly unpredictable, "Brown Dog," follows its eponymous narrator (also known as B.D.), a part-Native American, skirt-chasing, scavenger diver, as he beds an anthropology student whose interest in B.D. is at least partly derived from his knowledge of a hidden Indian burial ground. "Brown Dog" reads like something Mark Twain would write if he were alive today. The plot is interesting, but plot isn't really Harrison's thing; read "Brown Dog" for the indelible voice, which puts one in the mind of an adult Huck Finn transplanted from the Mississippi River to the forests and lakes and dive bars of Upper Peninsula Michigan.
The next novella in the collection is “Sunset Limited,” which depicts a reunion of erstwhile radicals from the ’60s as they venture to Mexico to console, and then, perhaps, free, an old comrade who is now in jail on trumped up charges. The first half of the story expertly introduces us to each of the characters and fills in on their shared history; this is the part of the novella that works best, as Harrison deftly and succinctly juggles a half-dozen characters and decades worth of back-story. The last half of the novella, however, is a bit rushed and choppy. This was my least favorite story of the collection, but “least favorite” is a relative term, since all of the novellas here are worth your time.
The final novella is the “The Woman Lit By Fireflies,” which isn’t as rowdy as “Brown Dog” nor quite as ambitious as “Sunset Limited.” It may, however, be the most affecting of the novellas. The story follows Clare, a fifty-something woman who walks out on her husband at a rest stop in the middle of Iowa. As she spends a night in a cornfield, Clare reflects, with a rueful, humorous voice, on her life and the events that brought her to this moment. Of all the novellas, this one has the most complete arc, and its tender ending is a perfect note to go out on.
It’s sad Harrison is no longer with us, but I take consolation in the fact that he left us so many novels, novellas, poetry, and non-fiction—a back-catalog I can foresee myself enjoying for years to come.
This is a collection of three novellas all about 80-85 pages in length. I have not read him before, but I understand that his fiction was primarily that of novellas, and published three to a volume. I thought perhaps they would be inter-related, but they have absolutely nothing in common, at least so far as age, gender, setting.
Brown Dog: Set in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, this story is told in the first person by a middle-aged, man who may or may not be of native heritage. This is a man who drinks heavily, lusts after women, and has little respect for the law. He occasionally works as a diver with a partner and is apparently homeless. It is a brilliant characterization.
Sunset Limited: The Sunset Limited is a train from New Orleans to the Coast, traveling through the mostly sparsely populated desert southwest. Gwen Simpson has called ahead so that it will stop at the platform near her ranch. This is an entirely different setting than Brown Dog, peopled with an entirely different type of characters. Gwen and 4 others were close friends in college 20 years earlier during the tumultuous Vietnam days. The five of them vandalized a recruiting office and spent some time in jail for their efforts. Gwen and three others have gotten on with their lives, but the fifth, Zip, continued his revolutionary ways and now sits in a jail in Mexico. This is the set-up for the reunion.
The Woman Lit by Fireflies: Clare was a trust fund woman, now in her early 50s, who has two grown children and has been married for 30 years. She cannot tolerate her husband and decides to leave him. Her leaving is done in an entirely unconventional way. She and her husband are driving home to Michigan after having visited their daughter in Iowa. She stops at a rest stop while her husband makes a daily phone call to his financial advisor. Clare leaves a note that her husband is abusing her, hops the fence, and disappears into a corn field. From there we are treated to her memories.
I like the way Harrison writes. I thought Brown Dog the best of these three. I'll volunteer that if you are offended by language and the lustiness of men, this story might not be for you. I liked Gwen Simpson in Sunset Limited. As to Clare in the title story ... meh. I sort of kept hoping that Harrison was telling that one with a dose of sarcasm, but as I always fail to understand sarcasm, maybe not. I feel fortunate that I've picked up other Harrison titles and will look forward to reading him again. This is just 4-stars, but it's hard to complain about reading 4-star books.
My first Jim Harrison book, certainly not my last. Too rich to gobble, but too interesting not to. He writes in voices, maintains perspectives, so distinct that it's vertiginous (to me). He firehoses the reader with original thoughts about freedom, love, personal morality, time (remembering and looking forward), physical context so dense and sensual (especially in natural settings) that it feels like being dropped into another person's body. I read it faster than it deserved. Another book for the read-again pile.
This book consists of three novella length stories.
Brown Dog I have read previously and reviewed under its title. For many reviewers it seems the middle story, Sunset Limited is the weakest of the three, but not for me, I actually enjoyed it the most. It is sort of a political melodrama that brings four 1960's student radicals, now middle-aged and 'reformed', all but one of then leading successful lives. The focus is on 41 year old Gwen, and Zip, whose radical tendencies have persisted and he currently languishes in a Mexican jail. Gwen seeks out Billy, a successful Californian socialite, and similarly wealthy Patricia, and determines to rescue Zip from jail.
I didn't enjoy the last novella, the title story, as much as most reviewers. Here, a suburban Detroit housewife in her mid-fifties walks away from her husband and his car at a freeway rest stop, leaving a note in the bathroom and making her escape out the back. She spends the night in a cornfield, and during the course of that night encounters flashbacks that allow the reader to understand her reasons for absconding.
Its only the middle story that is in typical Harrison style, though they all share the theme of an admirable outlaw on the run. The other two lack something of fast pace of the plot evident in his earlier work, and show a sign of his writing developing, not for the worse at all, but just different.
Another three wonderful novellas from Harrison. My favorite is "The Woman Lit By Fireflies,' and not just because of the title, which is so evocative. It's a remarkably nuanced portrait both of an upper- middle-class suburban woman, Clare, who runs away from her husband. He is described as "abusive" on the back copy, but it's not quite so simple. Harrisons shows Clare is responsible for many of the decisions that have shaped her unhappy life.
Three very different stories that share the themes of personal responsibility, the past's effect on the present, and the question of how much control we really have to shape the future.
I am definitely going to be binge-reading Jim Harrison. Next up on my Harrison TBR pile: Dalva.
...Ever since he first popped out of the egg man has been weeping…
The second novella, Sunset Limited, read like a long synopsis for a film script. A really lazy, and almost lame, effort by Jim Harrison. Action was stated and forwarded, feelings and thoughts expressed. A bit of dialogue here and there. More action sequences. And then the Hollywood treatment for finality. Very little character development. Hardly anything to do with Amtrak’s Sunset Limited. Nothing to get excited about in this novella and in my opinion used as simply filler for the bookends of the very good Brown Dog and The Woman Lit by Fireflies. I know I read this particular collection years ago, but didn’t recollect much about it other than the Brown Dog novella. This far superior Brown Dog piece I read again a few months ago in the later Brown Dog collection by the same name and wrote about it then. In my opinion, none of the Brown Dog novellas that follow the continuing saga of the Brown Dog character lives up to the quality of this first one collected in this book.
...When she thought about it later Clare was surprised again by how clear and cool her painful mind had felt...At eye level she looked at the way the roots of the corn broke up the earth...She rolled over onto her back...She looked at a dirty hand and thought idly with a smile, despite the pain, that for the first time in her life she did not know where her next shower was coming from...She normally walked a great deal because she was essentially claustrophobic and walking made the world appear larger…
As always, my favorite character in a Jim Harrison piece of literature is the self-reflective, self-examining, not-so-perfect person at a crossroads late in life. Aging right along with Jim Harrison, from the time I was around thirty to now in my mid-sixties, I have learned to appreciate his work even more the older I get. Clare is one of those personalities I find so appealing to me. The title novella, The Woman Lit by Fireflies, is astounding in its initial beauty and freedom in expressing with words a similar emotional response one might get from a stunning painting seen in an art gallery. A woman escaping into an endless maze of tall corn rows can do this to you.
...She tried to recall what her beloved Camus said about “terrible freedom,” that once you decided not to commit suicide, whether physically or figuratively, you assumed the responsibility of freedom…
Not surprising at all is Harrison’s bent for the existential questions presented in the examined life. Given his lead character is a woman it is also not surprising that Harrison maintains a sensitivity strikingly foreign to his own beastly physical appearance. The wide breadth of Harrison’s literary talents is amazing. Besides knowing how to string words together, his knowledge of wild game, canines, cuisine, geography, culture, and fine wines always adds more flavor to whatever stew he is simmering in his prose. Clare is one of those thoughtful people generally frequenting a Harrison novel or shorter piece of writing. Though at a crossroads, it is a given that Harrison rarely, if ever, makes any final decision clear. It is what it is. But what will become obvious to the reader is how important it is to feel alive and vital, and thus beyond one’s personal regret and despair.
...She got up and hugged him, and saw herself hugging him in the wall mirror, with a wave of claustrophobia sweeping through her body...
what an introduction to Harrison—B.D. is a character so realized, he feels more fact than fiction; the preciseness and humor and Harrison’s writing is crystalline and gripping. not necessarily a protagonist I like, but one I loved. there’s a lot of heart here for a character that seems both unwilling or unable to articulate their interior pain; I love how grounded the feelings and momentum of life are. curious to read the other novellas centered around him.
“Sunset Limited” - 3 stars a funny romp that veers a little too absurd in terms of melodrama. I liked the reunion of characters but the trajectory was both expected and silly in not a masterful way lol. enjoyed the first half or so more than the end. still written soooo crisply
“The Woman Lit by Fireflies” - 4.5 stunning brilliant pissed off I wasn’t the one to think of this premise for a story! Clare is a phenomenal protagonist who both evolves from who you think she is on the first page & into whom she becomes by the last page. “She wanted more life, not Robert’s Rules of Order” is such a banger lmao are you kidding! contemplative and reflective and grief-stricken interior. made me think of when I told my grandmother I felt stuck and she said I just needed to leave—catch the first flight to anywhere, go to Ojai, get out of town. you find yourself everywhere, you’re with you wherever you go.
The three novellas are quite different from each other. The character Brown Dog is surviving in the UP by diving for treasures from ships that have sunk in Lake Superior. He finds a perfectly preserved cadaver, gets him new eyes and rents an ice truck to bring it to Chicago to sell. Perfect for a Coen Brothers type move. His younger girlfriend is helping him write his history of his misadventures and hijinks in the U. P. She is an anthropologist from the U of M who is using Brown Dog for the advancement of her career. Brown Dog knows where important Indian Burial Grounds are that she wants to research. The grounds are sacred and are supposed to remain secret but Brown Dog’s hijinks get him into such a mess that he has to break his promise to protect them.
Sunset Unlimited was a loose wandering story where sixties radicals reunite to help a friend get out of a Mexican prison. Big Chill meets Cormac McCarthy without the good prose or music.
I thought the Women Lit by Fireflies was the best story. The heroine jumps a fence at an Iowa rest stop and spends the night in a cornfield as she runs away from her business obsessed husband and her materialistic lifestyle. She has imaginary conversations with her children and friends as she tries to rationalize what she is doing.
Brown Dog, the first novella, and The Woman Lit by Fireflies, both are very strong stories based on well-conceived and developed characters. Harrison does a very good job in both of painting a picture of the interior lives of the characters. The middle novella, Subset Limited, was enjoyable but forgettable. Good character development for the first half, a jumbled plot for the second.
There are three novellas in this book. While the first 2 were interesting, I wasn’t as engaged as I wanted to be. But the third one, carrying the title of the book, was wonderful. It was simpler, slower, and more introspective-all in a good way.
has moments of greatness but all the themes and characters are a bit too 2 dimensional. The woman lit by fireflies > brown dog > sunset limited, which read like a bad pynchon novel
The writing itself was great, but I can’t say I really enjoyed any of the stories. I am glad I read it because of the quote “I was lower than a snake dick,” but I wouldn’t recommend it to others.
This was the first time that I've read anything by Jim Harrison, about whom I've heard for a while but somehow never made the effort to read. As a writer capable of crafting language with unobtrusive dexterity, characters with depth and dimension, and narratives that sustain interest, Harrison is clearly talented and deserving of his reputation. However, I simply don't share the sensibilities that underlie the themes of his stories, and so I found myself frequently rolling my eyes and "waiting out" each story at some point when I lost interest until I read through the rest of it. These three novellas, although featuring distinctly different characters and situations, are all linked together through the central characters who in some way "go rogue" or are living their lives or episodes in their lives as some kind of outlaw from the conventional. These main characters receive a good deal of attention from Harrison and have some substance as people; he portrays those who represent the conventional world against which these outlaws are resisting, though, as simplistic and pathetically ridiculous or tragic foils that serve only to hone the rather obtuse and hackneyed point he rather too obviously tries to make concerning the tension underlying humans suspended between society and nature. In Harrison's worldview, the characters who live closer to the natural world - camping out, working a farm or ranch, wandering through a corn field (Brown Dog, Gwen, Sam, Clare, Laurel, Native Americans in general) - are more complete and virtuous than the unstable, damaged, clueless "city folk" (anthropologists, Billy, Patty, Donald, Donald, Jr.) who, it seems from Harrison's recommendation, would be wiser and more fully human if they were more inclined to wander through the woods in a T-shirt or camp out like a bear while communing with rabbits and fireflies. While purporting to be down-to-earth, this kind of populist romanticism makes extensive moralizing and even mystical claims about what kind of people are more authentic and essentially human that are at their root condescending, judgmental, and simplistic. That's the way he looks at things, though, and it doesn't detract from my admiration of his skills as a writer. His stories are also reminiscent of a broad range of what I assume must be his literary influences or at least authors whose sensibilities he shared: Hemingway, Bukowski, Sherman Alexie and Louise Erdrich, Sartre (in the ending of "Sunset Limited") and Camus (throughout "Fireflies"), Rousseau, Alice Munro, J.D. Salinger. Sometimes - mostly in "Brown Dog" but also the ending of "Sunset Limited" - the story seemed derivative or contrived, but mostly the writing came across as easy, unforced.
It took me ten days to read this book which seemed like a very long time. In five titles Harrison writes three novellas. We all know what novellas are - right? They're short novels or I always thought they were short stories that physically got away from the author and he just rambled on and on until he ran out of gas. Or they were conversely planned to be longer books but ended up much shorter because the author ran out of gas.
Now this idea of gas is important. What if you wrote in such a compact fashion you could go much further using less gas. Each of the three stories in this book is a concise miracle. I believe in the hands if any other writer one of these novellas would provide enough material for a 400 page book and we would know less about the central character than we find in any Harrison eighty pager.
I could, or rather, I refuse to choose a favorite. When one story ended and the reading of the next commenced I wiped my mind and began a new book, not just the next story in this collection. So, I feel that I have read three extremely rich novels in ten days and my literary life has been enriched by really coming to know the people of this book.
I love me some Jim Harrison. Legends of the Fall, ladies, amirite?? His stories are a hoot. My only beef is that they (this particular collection) meander in ways that only an older white guy could get away with, you know what I mean? A woman could never. A young woman. A young brown woman, either. Sorry, Jim, my eyes were opened to the white male privilege factor relatively later in life. But now it’s all I see. In my twenties, you would’ve gotten 5 shining stars. I’m fifty now and this collection is a solid 4. You were a man of your time, and that’s okay. That last story, the one the book is named after? Lovely.
Good. Very good. Unfortunately, I'd already read "Legends of the Fall," a collection to which almost nothing can stand up. The novellas in "Legends" made an indellible mark on me. These were interesting, though not as powerful. Still worth the time, obviously. Thanks, Jim, for your excellent work.
If I could, I would rate the last short story a million stars. I loved getting to follow along with Claire on her journey to start a new life while reliving the old. That short story is so beautifully written.
However, Brown dog was one of the worst pieces i’ve read in a long time. I don’t know if it was the exploitation of native american culture for the fact that brown dog himself was a vile human being. Either way, I found myself cringing my way through that story for my book club, not enjoying a second.
Sunset limited gave me a similar feeling to brown dog, cringing, wanting it to be over. Except when Sam was mentioned. I feel as though Sam’s introduction in sunset limited was the first we see the good side of jim harrison’s writing. The writing that makes you question your own reality.
THE WOMAN LIT BY FIREFLIES by, a novella by Jim Harrison, is about Clare, an abused wife in her 50s, married for 30 years. At a rest stop on Interstate 80 in Iowa on their way home from visiting their children, Clare decides to escape and leave her husband. She exit the rest stop's bathroom, hops the back fence, and escapes to a large cornfield. Most of the story then consists of Clare's remembering past events. Not much of a plot or characters. Harrison is regarded as one of America's great treasures by many, even something of a cult figure. Not my cup of tea. Three stars is probably generous on my likability scale.
4.5 stars. When Harrison is locked in, he's one of the best. Each of these three novellas have a lot to recommend them-- especially "Sunset Limited" the middle story, which takes the familiar late 20th century trope of a group of former radicals reconvening to relive their tumultuous youth and solve a crisis. That type of story litters the 80s and 90s, when an entire generation spent a lot of time mulling over their collective failure to establish new precedents, but Harrison's version shows why it's still a pertinent narrative to explore. I wonder if post-millennium generations will have the same wont and/or need to look back like this.
The author is impressed by his wide-ranging reading so that much of what he writes is laden with references to obscure literature and poetry. Bizarre behavior is another hallmark in these three stories, as well as some rather confusing hopping around in time and place as well as dialog that is hard to follow because in some cases the first and second speaker aren’t actually identified so that you have to ferret out who is saying what to whom. I don’t mind being required to think when I read but I don’t like this sort of thing much at all. Never again.
This is a collection of three stories, each about 75-100 pages. They are quite different and wonderful. "Brown Dog" starts with a salvage diver finding a perfectly preserved Indian sitting on the bottom of Lake Michigan (not a spoiler-- basically on the first page). There is much comedy and mayhem.
"Sunset Limited" is more of a dramatic adventure and moves at a very fast pace.
"The Woman Lit by Fireflies" is just plain amazing. Please, just get the book and read this story in one sitting. A woman is transformed and liberated through memory and nature.
So, my rating of four is really for the two stories other than Brown Dog (which is part of the bigger Brown Dog novellas I previously read, and could only give two stars, although I would give this one three). Sunset Limited, and especially The Woman Lit by Fireflies, are classic Harrison: captivating, insightful, deeply personal stories that grab the reader and pull you right in. I know and love the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and the cold waters of the Great Lakes, and Harrison brings them beautifully to life in his tales. Powerful, unflinching stories of lives in turmoil.
Certainly “Brown Dog” is the best of this collection. It deserves a better mark, a five star tale. The other stories, aside from, “The Woman Lit by Fireflies” which has a soft, sad beauty, did not intrigue or envelop me like many of Harrison’s other tales. “Sunset Limited” is bad. Really bad. Like make me want to throw the book out the window, into a lake of molten lava bad. Still, his saving graces are there, mixed in with his rough poetry. As well his descriptions of food and wine which he tends to often write about. It always makes me hungry for more.
Jim Harrison is one of the finest American writers. His prose is poetically haunting. At times hysterically funny in his mordant often jaded views he is also deeply emotionally resonant and moving. Each of his novels is a master class in writing. He packs more into a novella than 99 percent of writers stuff into much longer and overwritten novels. If you want great writing and great storytelling and marvelous characters and plots, read Jim Harrison.
I got on a Jim Harrison kick after seeing the movie adaptation of "Legends of the Fall." I was really impressed by "The Woman Lit by Fireflies." I said in my journal from 1998 that "Brown Dog" was my favorite, but I was really excited that cities in Michigan (the state where I grew up and still live) were featured, including Bark River, Escanaba, Kalamazoo, and Galesburg. I wrote that Harrison was a "damn fine storyteller."
I first read "The Woman Lit by Fireflies" oh, 30 years ago. I loved it! So I bought another copy, hoping to wrap myself in memories. I didn't recognize it! Don't get me wrong, it's a good story and a lot can be read into it, but it was nothing like I remembered!! So, whereas 30 years ago I'd have given it 5*, and today I want to give it 3*, I'll give it 4* for the memories it brought back and for what it truly is to me so many years later.