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The House on First Street: My New Orleans Story
After fifteen years of living like a vagabond on her reporter's schedule, Julia Reed got married and bought a house in the historic Garden District. Four weeks after she moved in, Hurricane Katrina struck. The House on First Street is the chronicle of Reed's remarkable and often hilarious homecoming, as well as a thoroughly original tribute to our country's most original city.
212 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 24, 2008
126 people are currently reading
1054 people want to read
About the author
Julia Reed
78 books91 followersJulia Reed was born in Greenville, Mississippi, in 1960. She went to the Madeira School for Girls at age sixteen near McLean, Virginia. She began taking classes at Georgetown University but then transferred to and graduated from American University.
She started working at Newsweek magazine as an intern in 1977 and went on to become Contributing Editor and columnist. She was contributing editor and senior writer at Vogue for twenty years. She is a Contributing Editor at Elle Magazine and at Garden and Gun Magazine (for which she also writes a column). She also writes articles for the New York Times, Conde Nast Traveler, and the Wall Street Journal.
Well known as a humorist and a “master of the art of eating, drinking, and making merry,” according to her publisher, her books include One Man’s Folly: The Exceptional Houses of Furlow Gatewood (2014), But Mama Always Put Vodka in Her Sangria! Adventures in Eating, Drinking, and Making Merry (Apr 30, 2013), New Orleans, New Elegance (2012) with Kerri McCaffety, Ham Biscuits, Hostess Gowns, and Other Southern Specialties: An Entertaining Life (with Recipes) (Apr 28, 2009), The House on First Street: My New Orleans Story (2008) and Queen of the Turtle Derby and Other Southern Phenomena (2005)
She started working at Newsweek magazine as an intern in 1977 and went on to become Contributing Editor and columnist. She was contributing editor and senior writer at Vogue for twenty years. She is a Contributing Editor at Elle Magazine and at Garden and Gun Magazine (for which she also writes a column). She also writes articles for the New York Times, Conde Nast Traveler, and the Wall Street Journal.
Well known as a humorist and a “master of the art of eating, drinking, and making merry,” according to her publisher, her books include One Man’s Folly: The Exceptional Houses of Furlow Gatewood (2014), But Mama Always Put Vodka in Her Sangria! Adventures in Eating, Drinking, and Making Merry (Apr 30, 2013), New Orleans, New Elegance (2012) with Kerri McCaffety, Ham Biscuits, Hostess Gowns, and Other Southern Specialties: An Entertaining Life (with Recipes) (Apr 28, 2009), The House on First Street: My New Orleans Story (2008) and Queen of the Turtle Derby and Other Southern Phenomena (2005)
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 244 reviews
November 24, 2009
Imagine a disaster of third-world proportions told through the lens of first-world white privilege, and you have the makings of this book. I picked this up while on vacation in New Orleans, thinking the premise (woman moves into a new home three weeks before Katrina struck) sounded like an interesting tale of personal and urban renewal. Instead, Reed knows her perspective is limited, but makes no bones about it. At one point, she gives the caveat that her editor at Vogue cut a fluffy reference from a post-Katrina article she was working on, claiming it was a "Marie Antoinette moment." Reed then goes on to say her whole perspective is essentially a Marie Antoinette one, and she knows she's incredibly lucky. So be it.
I found Reed to be incredibly materialistic, off-putting, and tone deaf to an astonishing degree. To start, the book opens with five chapters of how much Reed loathes her contractors working on the titular home and how many mistakes they make, or how their work is just not to her liking. Then, when the storm does finally loom on the horizon, she discusses at length her main concern before evacuating the night before it hit--whether or not to throw her champagne bottles and lobster shells outside in the trash, where the storm might deposit them elsewhere, such as a neighbor's yard, or to keep them in their house, where they might stink up the place. Or there's the reference to their actual departure (after being stuck in traffic, they knew of "secret" back roads and "flew" out of the city--how many could have been spared if this information had been shared earlier?), and Reed then spends some time detailing their first night out of NOLA post-Katrina's landfall, where she and her husband and parents feasted on steaks and wine while those left behind drowned. I don't doubt Reed tried to convey her gratitude in her good fortune and her genuine affection for New Orleans, she just comes off as a privileged rich girl who doesn't have much of substance to say. The editor who greenlit this book should be embarrassed.
The one silver lining of this book? It was purchased in New Orleans itself, and hopefully the transaction's sales tax will go toward rebuilding the city or similar worthy renewal programs. If you're interested in New Orleans, skip this book and make a donation instead--or better yet, go check the city out for yourself.
I found Reed to be incredibly materialistic, off-putting, and tone deaf to an astonishing degree. To start, the book opens with five chapters of how much Reed loathes her contractors working on the titular home and how many mistakes they make, or how their work is just not to her liking. Then, when the storm does finally loom on the horizon, she discusses at length her main concern before evacuating the night before it hit--whether or not to throw her champagne bottles and lobster shells outside in the trash, where the storm might deposit them elsewhere, such as a neighbor's yard, or to keep them in their house, where they might stink up the place. Or there's the reference to their actual departure (after being stuck in traffic, they knew of "secret" back roads and "flew" out of the city--how many could have been spared if this information had been shared earlier?), and Reed then spends some time detailing their first night out of NOLA post-Katrina's landfall, where she and her husband and parents feasted on steaks and wine while those left behind drowned. I don't doubt Reed tried to convey her gratitude in her good fortune and her genuine affection for New Orleans, she just comes off as a privileged rich girl who doesn't have much of substance to say. The editor who greenlit this book should be embarrassed.
The one silver lining of this book? It was purchased in New Orleans itself, and hopefully the transaction's sales tax will go toward rebuilding the city or similar worthy renewal programs. If you're interested in New Orleans, skip this book and make a donation instead--or better yet, go check the city out for yourself.
October 15, 2009
Eh. How's that for a rousing review.
Two problems with this: one, Reed hasn't decided what sort of book she's writing. It's billed as a renovating-my-dream-house-oh-no-Hurricane-Katrina. But both elements are presented in a pretty superficial manner. And Reed's house wasn't really damaged by Katrina. (I think a window broke or something.) So she basically camps at her parents in Mississppi and goes back and forth and does some touristy/journalisty visits to badly flooded areas. That's not to minimize her trauma, nor, of course, that of the many other people who suffered. But she never goes deep enough for me to feel it.
Two, she's a relentless name dropper, of people, places, and things. I suspect this is a holdover from her life as a journalist, reviewing lots of restaurants and such. But she comes off as someone who's trying to cram as many details in a very brief book as possible--to provide authenticity? to give herself credibility? who knows. But I grew tired of it and started to judge her for it. I know, I'm a bad person.
Two problems with this: one, Reed hasn't decided what sort of book she's writing. It's billed as a renovating-my-dream-house-oh-no-Hurricane-Katrina. But both elements are presented in a pretty superficial manner. And Reed's house wasn't really damaged by Katrina. (I think a window broke or something.) So she basically camps at her parents in Mississppi and goes back and forth and does some touristy/journalisty visits to badly flooded areas. That's not to minimize her trauma, nor, of course, that of the many other people who suffered. But she never goes deep enough for me to feel it.
Two, she's a relentless name dropper, of people, places, and things. I suspect this is a holdover from her life as a journalist, reviewing lots of restaurants and such. But she comes off as someone who's trying to cram as many details in a very brief book as possible--to provide authenticity? to give herself credibility? who knows. But I grew tired of it and started to judge her for it. I know, I'm a bad person.
August 8, 2016
What a load of first-world, white girl crap. I read the entire thing because I couldn't believe an entire book would go on this way. The only small, tiny, minuscule milifraction of a redeeming quality: a few sentences worth of historical detail. The rest: a major Cosmo page-turner born from timely sensationalist greed, suckling at the disastrous misfortune and decimation of a populous. I hope each family waiting for FEMA relief was distributed a copy with which to wipe their asses.
May 19, 2009
I enjoyed this book- but I had to put aside the fact that the author seems a bit out of it. Her perspective on Hurricane Katrina seems to be that of an elitist restaurant-goer. She talked a little bit about the class-structure and inept leadership that lead to the catastrophy following the storm, but mostly this was a self-involved book about "buying a great house, oh look it survived a hurricane!, did I mention we had a terrible contractor that I kept on for no reason?, oh and look, I'm friends with a drug user so I KNOW about hardship."
Of course, it WAS interesting if you like old houses, New Orleans, and renovation stories. It wasn't all bad, honestly, I just don't think I would be able to be friends with the author.
Of course, it WAS interesting if you like old houses, New Orleans, and renovation stories. It wasn't all bad, honestly, I just don't think I would be able to be friends with the author.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 25, 2017
I love Julia Reed. This is a wonderful story of NOLA before and after Katrina. Julia did an amazing job of telling the aftermath of a great hurricane that I did not know. She writes about the city she loves and the chefs, restaurants, friends and the workers on her house on First Street. I wanted to know more and I am sure there is more.
April 9, 2023
I loved this book, simply because I miss Julia Evans Reed's monthly Garden & Gun columns. She was witty, insightful, and most of all fun. This book makes me feel like she is still with us.
November 30, 2020
This book was 1/10th entertaining and 9/10ths frustrating and appalling. This book is part memoir, part namedropapalooza, part diary of renovating a multi-million dollar home in New Orleans before/after Katrina. (Side note: why do all Vogue writers feel the need to constantly refer to every semi-important person as their very good friend? It’s boring and exhausting.) At different times, Reed says she and her friends are “blessed”, “fortunate” and “lucky” in their Katrina experiences without any acknowledgment that it was their privilege and money that kept them safe and alive. There’s so much tone deafness in this book, it’s almost laughable. I was also astounded that someone who spent “hundreds of hours” searching for the perfect doorknobs wouldn’t also have the foresight to hire a foreman to supervise the people renovating her home. It’s clear she is trying to regale readers with hopefully humorous (but actually petty and personal) tales of contractor ineptitude but it comes off as a lack of oversight on her part. All in all, this is a story about a rich white southern lady who eats and drinks a lot with her very good (also rich) friends, complains about her very large expensive house and is very out of touch with reality.
April 2, 2021
I thought this was going to be a book about home renovation in New Orleans just before Hurricane Katrina. It is, but then the Hurricane comes and with it all the misery, catastrophe, horror that we all know. The lighthearted story takes a sharp turn, and the author ( who is a resident, friend, and Journalist living there) becomes ALL of those things to lots of people. It becomes an in depth esoteric tale about restaurants, streets, etc that I have NO knowledge of at all. I’m sure she didn’t want to leave anyone out ( barely did) and it was at that point that I couldn’t keep up with this “TMI... too much information “ . Some reviews call it name dropping, but I didn’t know any of them. The Yellow House by Sarah Broome is also a New Orleans story that was also affected by the storm but is excellent: try that. I don’t hate this book, don’t hate her story, but it is a book with a little bit of a Vogue Magazine writers viewpoint.
July 19, 2017
I really enjoyed reading this perspective, especially as someone who loves the Garden District of New Orleans, although I shall possibly not ever be able to afford a house there. I did go a little crazy every time the author excused egregious behavior be her contractors, but I know the world would be boring if we were all the same, so I didn't let it effect my enjoyment of the narrative.
Read
June 14, 2014Reed's contribution to the ever-growing body of work about Katrina is distinguished by its elegance and wit, as well as its poignancy and civic-mindedness. Told by a 40-something woman of privilege, one who could afford a TV-watching companion for her cat while Reed led a split existence between the Big Apple and the Big Easy, she is ultimately a woman without any true home until she moves permanently to New Orleans and finds, first, true love, and then, the city of her heart in ruins.
Reed, a contributing editor to both NEWSWEEK and VOGUE, was born in what was the wealthiest, most urbane city in the Mississippi Delta. Greenville, also the native ground of Shelby Foote and Walker Percy, was, like its larger, more sophisticated sister to the south, nearly destroyed by the Mississippi River flood of 1927. Thus it's in keeping that a beautiful but decaying New Orleans house owned by another Percy becomes home to Reed and her new husband just weeks before Katrina hits.
The house remains a wreck, though largely unscathed by Katrina, and the horrors of home renovation - and the devastation wreaked elsewhere in the city - are almost a match for Reed's descriptions of the glorious, spiritual delights of food. She chronicles with obvious glee the progressively better meals she manages to offer an entire contingent of Oklahoma National Guardsmen stationed down the block to fend off looters at a time when almost no city stores are open and no city, state, local or federal officials are to be seen.
Despite Reed's self-deprecating generosity, also seen in her loving commitment to both new and lifelong friends, to neighbors, to various people who have worked for her, and to an improbably sweet-natured crackhead she tries again and again to redeem, Reed ensures that we do not mistake her for Mother Teresa. The tantrums she throws at contractors attract neighbors and passing cars; she lapses into what she later concedes is a "Marie Antoinette moment" while she cleans out the rotted contents of her (predictably) stuffed refrigerator after 12 electricity-free days; and her scorn for then-Louisiana governor Kathleen Blanco and Nagin practically curls the pages.
Some readers will be tempted to condemn THE HOUSE ON FIRST STREET as trivial or paternalistic in comparison, for example, to a book like Phyllis Montana-Leblanc's NOT JUST THE LEVEES BROKE. But Reed marries, and finds her place in New Orleans, to earn what Montana-Leblanc possesses at the beginning and end of her tale: a family and roots too deep for any hurricane to destroy, despite the anger and tears and grievous loss wrought by our country's greatest natural disaster.
(originally published in BookPage)
Reed, a contributing editor to both NEWSWEEK and VOGUE, was born in what was the wealthiest, most urbane city in the Mississippi Delta. Greenville, also the native ground of Shelby Foote and Walker Percy, was, like its larger, more sophisticated sister to the south, nearly destroyed by the Mississippi River flood of 1927. Thus it's in keeping that a beautiful but decaying New Orleans house owned by another Percy becomes home to Reed and her new husband just weeks before Katrina hits.
The house remains a wreck, though largely unscathed by Katrina, and the horrors of home renovation - and the devastation wreaked elsewhere in the city - are almost a match for Reed's descriptions of the glorious, spiritual delights of food. She chronicles with obvious glee the progressively better meals she manages to offer an entire contingent of Oklahoma National Guardsmen stationed down the block to fend off looters at a time when almost no city stores are open and no city, state, local or federal officials are to be seen.
Despite Reed's self-deprecating generosity, also seen in her loving commitment to both new and lifelong friends, to neighbors, to various people who have worked for her, and to an improbably sweet-natured crackhead she tries again and again to redeem, Reed ensures that we do not mistake her for Mother Teresa. The tantrums she throws at contractors attract neighbors and passing cars; she lapses into what she later concedes is a "Marie Antoinette moment" while she cleans out the rotted contents of her (predictably) stuffed refrigerator after 12 electricity-free days; and her scorn for then-Louisiana governor Kathleen Blanco and Nagin practically curls the pages.
Some readers will be tempted to condemn THE HOUSE ON FIRST STREET as trivial or paternalistic in comparison, for example, to a book like Phyllis Montana-Leblanc's NOT JUST THE LEVEES BROKE. But Reed marries, and finds her place in New Orleans, to earn what Montana-Leblanc possesses at the beginning and end of her tale: a family and roots too deep for any hurricane to destroy, despite the anger and tears and grievous loss wrought by our country's greatest natural disaster.
(originally published in BookPage)
October 25, 2013
I read this as a New Orleanian so of course, it holds special meaning for me. But I'm not sure I would have enjoyed much of the book's references if I didn't know the city. I definitely got a kick out of hearing about her parents escapades in New Orleans decades ago at some of the same places that still exist today! I did get tired of hearing about her lavish furnishings and consumption of Billecort-Salmon champagne. In fact, I really bristled at the reinforcement of the stereotype that everyone in New Orleans lunches at Galatoire's and stumbles around in a general martini-dazed stupor. I'm sure some people live like that but it's not the standard for the everyday slouch. Stop making us look bad Julia! But she loves the city and that comes across very clearly. I'm glad she chose this city and continues to put her efforts towards its rebuilding.
December 1, 2020
I felt like I was reading daily entries of the authors personal journal or having a conversation with her after asking her to tell her New Orleans story. It was all over the place: rantings over the mishaps of renovations being paid for from her bottomless purse, her friendship with a hired hand addict, the horror of the aftermath of Katrina, her quest for the perfect beagle, her love of food and parties and New Orleans corrupt government. All in 193 too many pages. The epiloge tells of how her laptop had been stolen and all of her work lost and the story had to be rewritten. Then by stroke of luck it is returned to her (the best part of this story). I couldn't in good conscience recommend this to anyone.
December 2, 2008
This little book is a love letter to New Orleans. After traveling the world as a journalist, author Julia Reed moves into the garden district of NO right before Katrina. This is her story of rebuilding. I think I would have rated this book 4 stars if I had any knowledge whatsoever of NO. She is a big name dropper for restaurants, bars, parades, and important people about town. She seems to know everyone!
My favorite line comes when she finds out her house has only one broken window. "A feeling of utter unworhtiness and complete relief." I think that would be exactly how I would feel too. A must-read if you love NO, otherwise, a sweet love note.
My favorite line comes when she finds out her house has only one broken window. "A feeling of utter unworhtiness and complete relief." I think that would be exactly how I would feel too. A must-read if you love NO, otherwise, a sweet love note.
July 6, 2018
A friend at work (not from New Orleans) recommended this book to me and man, I LOVED IT.
It wasn't until years later, after Julia Reed had become my FAVORITE writer for "Garden & Gun" magazine and my absolute writer idol, that I realized I had read her before...that she was the author of this book.
The first half is the renovation nightmare retelling of the house she bought across from Anne Rice's house in the Garden District.
The second half is about how their lives (& homes) changed following Katrina.
A must, if you love New Orleans.
It wasn't until years later, after Julia Reed had become my FAVORITE writer for "Garden & Gun" magazine and my absolute writer idol, that I realized I had read her before...that she was the author of this book.
The first half is the renovation nightmare retelling of the house she bought across from Anne Rice's house in the Garden District.
The second half is about how their lives (& homes) changed following Katrina.
A must, if you love New Orleans.
November 4, 2022
I’m sure - especially after reading some reviews here - that this book won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but I loved it. I wanted to tear my hair out with the story of the house, and the details about the aftermath of Katrina were heartbreaking all over again. The author was a good writer, so there’s a bit of that, also. And I find upper crust life fascinating to read about. Sadly, I just read today when I googled the author that she died two years ago from cancer.
December 16, 2024
One of the best memoirs I have read! Reading about post-Katrina New Orleans was very interesting to me. Julia Reed is one of my favorite authors!
September 22, 2024
Over the summer I discovered Julia Reed in a way that only a book lover can: in a card catalogue search. Looking for a book of the same title, I found My Southern Journey, and then I could not get enough of her writing. Over the course of this year, I have it made it a project to read upper echelon writers while also returning to featured authors time and again during various parts of the year. Julia Reed might not be considered a master author by the establishment, but her writing oozes southern charm and personifies who she is and where she comes from. Reed is a southern Belle who writes of a slower paced way of life that occurs as much on the porch or parlor as it does in the work force. Even though she writes about events during all times of the year, when reading her work, time seems to slow down, and summer appears to last forever. As one who is in denial that summer has changed over to autumn, I selected another of Reed’s short memoirs to get me through the weekend. Even though the calendar says that it is autumn, it is still hot outside, perfect for a trip to the south where time is still and friends chat over lemonade and ice tea while grilling a comforting meal for friends.
Julia Reed grew up in Greenville, Mississippi, a last vestige of an old southern way of life. She wears her Delta pride like a badge of honor so it is no doubt to anyone she encounters where she comes from. Having attended boarding school since the age of fourteen and then beginning college on the east coast, Reed never rooted herself to a city as an adult. Since the age of seven she dreamed of a home with a family and a beagle, but then life happened. She got jobs with various magazines and moved up the ladder, shuttling between New York, Atlanta, Orlando, New Orleans, and back to New York, never establishing herself as a resident of a given city. I laud Reed for being candid about this because part of the first generation of women who benefited from the emerging women’s rights movement had to grapple with balancing work and family. It is still an issue in the 21st century as women opt for a great job or a family but not necessarily both simultaneously. As a southern women writing for Vogue, Gun and Garden, and Newsweek, Reed gladly accepted assignments that brought her back home. By 1991, she returned to News Orleans, a city she visited many times, to cover the Edwin Edwards election campaign. At that point, as she entered her thirties, Reed sensed that New Orleans could be home; however, she had to find that home first. In a city as transient as NOLA that depended on tourism for its economy, finding home was no easy matter.
As Reed moved from apartment to apartment on Bourbon and the Garden District, she never felt the sense that she had found home. Home was her parents’ house in Greenville and all the parties they gave there. It is Doe’s restaurant and Delta tamales and the friends that made Greenville a great place for Reed to grow up. New Orleans became her adult place of residence but not home until she finally married at age forty two after debating with herself whether or not to actually go through with it. Being married meant that two people in middle life with half a life of memories could not squeeze into a small apartment on Bourbon Street, as lively as the area is and in close proximity to New Orleans institution Galatoire’s. After much house hunting, Reed and her husband John found the house on first street, that once belonged to Walker Percy’s brother Phiniziny, and she knew it was the home she had been looking for. A year of renovations and eating at friends’ homes and fancy restaurants later, Reed thought that she could finally move into the house. Of course, the contractor botched many things in what read like a comedy act, and the house was barely inhibitable even after that much time, and, then, bam, Katrina. Decamping to Greenville, Reed rode out the storm at the only home she ever knew and helped her mother cook hundreds of meals for refugees, including eggplant Parmesan and sliced tomatoes. The house on first street was spared the bulk of the damage and eventually she returned to survey the area and see how her city sustained itself.
Many readers note that this is a book of white privilege. Reed is on a first name basis with many restaurant owners who give New Orleans its unique flavor and is also close with magazine editors and publishers due to her job. In a sense, yes, because Julia Reed is a successful person, this book could be construed as one of white privilege when many African Americans of New Orleans lost everything they had during Katrina. She notes how the people in charge of FEMA and elsewhere could not do their job and I will leave it at that. Criticisms aside, because of her position and her husband being an attorney, Reed used her station in life to buy countless meals for the national guard units on the ground. She used her contact network to find apartments and vouchers for her less fortunate friends. In a selfless act, she and another friend who returned went around to peoples’ homes and cleaned out their refrigerators. Maybe Julia Reed has lived a privileged life, but she used this to help others, and I laud her for it. After the brunt of the storm and nearly a year later, the home on first street became livable. There was that first holiday entertaining season that didn’t go quite as well as planned, but it marked the beginning of a return to normalcy, Reed describing the meals, drinks, and decor as she goes along, the holidays observed with a southern flair that could only be found in NOLA. Although I expected s southern way of life book and not a Katrina refugee book, the disaster allowed Reed to appreciate her first home that much more. That it was first built in 1868 and includes old New Orleans history only adds to its southern charm and reflects on Julia Reed as the southern Belle that she is.
Today Julia Reed still calls New Orleans home although I feel that for her home will always be Greenville. From her later memoirs, I have insight that Reed is no longer married, but the house on first street in New Orleans remains a special time for her as she experienced home ownership for the first time in middle age, a time when some of us are beginning to slow down and take things a little easier. Not Reed. Combining her parents’ initiative and flair for entertaining with the way of life that can only occur in New Orleans, she became the hostess with the mostest. The food and ambience to me appear to be next level, and, oh, how I would love to be a guest at one of these happenings, even if I can’t eat most of her food offerings. She even adopted Henry the beagle, and it was love at first sight for both of them. Sometimes dreams do come true, even the dreams of those privileged to enjoy the creature comforts of life from the beginning. While not the life I would have imagined, for Reed, a southern Belle, it is a southern way of life that takes her to the most happening city in the south, a city she seemed destined to call home. New Orleans might not be Reed’s home today, but she waxes poetic about the city that will always have a special place in her heart.
4 stars
Julia Reed grew up in Greenville, Mississippi, a last vestige of an old southern way of life. She wears her Delta pride like a badge of honor so it is no doubt to anyone she encounters where she comes from. Having attended boarding school since the age of fourteen and then beginning college on the east coast, Reed never rooted herself to a city as an adult. Since the age of seven she dreamed of a home with a family and a beagle, but then life happened. She got jobs with various magazines and moved up the ladder, shuttling between New York, Atlanta, Orlando, New Orleans, and back to New York, never establishing herself as a resident of a given city. I laud Reed for being candid about this because part of the first generation of women who benefited from the emerging women’s rights movement had to grapple with balancing work and family. It is still an issue in the 21st century as women opt for a great job or a family but not necessarily both simultaneously. As a southern women writing for Vogue, Gun and Garden, and Newsweek, Reed gladly accepted assignments that brought her back home. By 1991, she returned to News Orleans, a city she visited many times, to cover the Edwin Edwards election campaign. At that point, as she entered her thirties, Reed sensed that New Orleans could be home; however, she had to find that home first. In a city as transient as NOLA that depended on tourism for its economy, finding home was no easy matter.
As Reed moved from apartment to apartment on Bourbon and the Garden District, she never felt the sense that she had found home. Home was her parents’ house in Greenville and all the parties they gave there. It is Doe’s restaurant and Delta tamales and the friends that made Greenville a great place for Reed to grow up. New Orleans became her adult place of residence but not home until she finally married at age forty two after debating with herself whether or not to actually go through with it. Being married meant that two people in middle life with half a life of memories could not squeeze into a small apartment on Bourbon Street, as lively as the area is and in close proximity to New Orleans institution Galatoire’s. After much house hunting, Reed and her husband John found the house on first street, that once belonged to Walker Percy’s brother Phiniziny, and she knew it was the home she had been looking for. A year of renovations and eating at friends’ homes and fancy restaurants later, Reed thought that she could finally move into the house. Of course, the contractor botched many things in what read like a comedy act, and the house was barely inhibitable even after that much time, and, then, bam, Katrina. Decamping to Greenville, Reed rode out the storm at the only home she ever knew and helped her mother cook hundreds of meals for refugees, including eggplant Parmesan and sliced tomatoes. The house on first street was spared the bulk of the damage and eventually she returned to survey the area and see how her city sustained itself.
Many readers note that this is a book of white privilege. Reed is on a first name basis with many restaurant owners who give New Orleans its unique flavor and is also close with magazine editors and publishers due to her job. In a sense, yes, because Julia Reed is a successful person, this book could be construed as one of white privilege when many African Americans of New Orleans lost everything they had during Katrina. She notes how the people in charge of FEMA and elsewhere could not do their job and I will leave it at that. Criticisms aside, because of her position and her husband being an attorney, Reed used her station in life to buy countless meals for the national guard units on the ground. She used her contact network to find apartments and vouchers for her less fortunate friends. In a selfless act, she and another friend who returned went around to peoples’ homes and cleaned out their refrigerators. Maybe Julia Reed has lived a privileged life, but she used this to help others, and I laud her for it. After the brunt of the storm and nearly a year later, the home on first street became livable. There was that first holiday entertaining season that didn’t go quite as well as planned, but it marked the beginning of a return to normalcy, Reed describing the meals, drinks, and decor as she goes along, the holidays observed with a southern flair that could only be found in NOLA. Although I expected s southern way of life book and not a Katrina refugee book, the disaster allowed Reed to appreciate her first home that much more. That it was first built in 1868 and includes old New Orleans history only adds to its southern charm and reflects on Julia Reed as the southern Belle that she is.
Today Julia Reed still calls New Orleans home although I feel that for her home will always be Greenville. From her later memoirs, I have insight that Reed is no longer married, but the house on first street in New Orleans remains a special time for her as she experienced home ownership for the first time in middle age, a time when some of us are beginning to slow down and take things a little easier. Not Reed. Combining her parents’ initiative and flair for entertaining with the way of life that can only occur in New Orleans, she became the hostess with the mostest. The food and ambience to me appear to be next level, and, oh, how I would love to be a guest at one of these happenings, even if I can’t eat most of her food offerings. She even adopted Henry the beagle, and it was love at first sight for both of them. Sometimes dreams do come true, even the dreams of those privileged to enjoy the creature comforts of life from the beginning. While not the life I would have imagined, for Reed, a southern Belle, it is a southern way of life that takes her to the most happening city in the south, a city she seemed destined to call home. New Orleans might not be Reed’s home today, but she waxes poetic about the city that will always have a special place in her heart.
4 stars
September 26, 2011
This was a quick read about the author's post-Katrina experiences, bookended by housing renovations woes. If you're not familiar with NOLA or don't care about the city's top chefs or restaurants, you can probably skip this book. There was a lot of "We ate XX at XX's restaurant XXl." Heavy on name dropping of well off or well known friends and constant reminders of the author's own wealth and fairly easy lifestyle make it hard to feel any sympathy for her. To be fair, she doesn't ever ASK for your sympathy to her many many housing woes and frequently points out that she knows how much worse things could've been for her, how lucky she really was. It serves as a good example of how wealth and race, particularly in a city as divided by both as New Orleans, determines so much of a person's ability to cope with and survive disasters.
Thankfully the majority of the book focusses on New Orleans and Katrina than on her home renovation (because really? Who cares about the stone she chose for her yard or how many times she had to repaint the dining room?).
I've read a lot of books on Nola and there are far better reads than this selection if you're looking to learn about the city or the fallout of the levees failing. Those books can be dark in their brutal honesty of the devastation that took place. This book does not do that, instead focusing more on the first ones that pulled themselves back up after the storm (coincidentally mostly white, well-off business owners). It touches on the tragedies without being depressing, so a lot of it feels glossed over. That fits with the purpose of the book though, this wasn't a book that was written to show the true aftermath of such a tragedy. If anything it shows that life - no matter how much we may feel like it should pause for a moment - goes on.
If you want a real look at New Orleans or the effects of Katrina, pick up Tom Piazza's Why New Orleans Matters or Chris Rose's One Dead in Attic. Both are much better books.
Thankfully the majority of the book focusses on New Orleans and Katrina than on her home renovation (because really? Who cares about the stone she chose for her yard or how many times she had to repaint the dining room?).
I've read a lot of books on Nola and there are far better reads than this selection if you're looking to learn about the city or the fallout of the levees failing. Those books can be dark in their brutal honesty of the devastation that took place. This book does not do that, instead focusing more on the first ones that pulled themselves back up after the storm (coincidentally mostly white, well-off business owners). It touches on the tragedies without being depressing, so a lot of it feels glossed over. That fits with the purpose of the book though, this wasn't a book that was written to show the true aftermath of such a tragedy. If anything it shows that life - no matter how much we may feel like it should pause for a moment - goes on.
If you want a real look at New Orleans or the effects of Katrina, pick up Tom Piazza's Why New Orleans Matters or Chris Rose's One Dead in Attic. Both are much better books.
October 9, 2012
You might enjoy this book if 1) you are from New Orleans, have lived in New Orleans, or know enough about the city to understand Julia Reed's many references, or 2) your name is mentioned in this book. The odds of this are absurdly high.
This book was not what I expected. I expected a touching Hurricane Katrina memoir, filled with memorable, possibly quirky faces, all somehow revolving around Julia Reed's house - you know, the one on First Street. What I got was an excuse for the author to stand up and shout, "Look at me! I'm important! I know people!" Reed name-drops on nearly every page. In fact, one of the most common phrases in the book is "My friend X," or "My good buddy X," followed by chef, owner, writer, lawyer, or doctor, followed by said friend's summarized life story. We get it - you have more friends than us normal humans.
I could forgive the name-dropping if the rest of the book had any real substance. Most of this book, however, seems to be dedicated to complaining about the costly renovations of the aforementionedMansion House on First Street. It seems insensitive to me, considering how many New Orleans residents lost their homes completely, while Julia Reed's home survived virtually unscathed. She acknowledges this, and then goes back to complaining about the sun room's roof leaking.
I think my biggest problem with this book, though, was that it just doesn't work as a memoir. It's all over the place, and using the house as a theme is not as successful as Reed envisioned, I'm sure. It feels unfinished at the end and rushed (after reading the epilogue, though, perhaps it was rushed - ).
If you're from New Orleans or have an interest in the city, you may enjoy this. Otherwise, I'd definitely pass. There is, I'm sure, more interesting nonfiction written about New Orleans and/or Hurricane Katrina.
This book was not what I expected. I expected a touching Hurricane Katrina memoir, filled with memorable, possibly quirky faces, all somehow revolving around Julia Reed's house - you know, the one on First Street. What I got was an excuse for the author to stand up and shout, "Look at me! I'm important! I know people!" Reed name-drops on nearly every page. In fact, one of the most common phrases in the book is "My friend X," or "My good buddy X," followed by chef, owner, writer, lawyer, or doctor, followed by said friend's summarized life story. We get it - you have more friends than us normal humans.
I could forgive the name-dropping if the rest of the book had any real substance. Most of this book, however, seems to be dedicated to complaining about the costly renovations of the aforementioned
I think my biggest problem with this book, though, was that it just doesn't work as a memoir. It's all over the place, and using the house as a theme is not as successful as Reed envisioned, I'm sure. It feels unfinished at the end and rushed (after reading the epilogue, though, perhaps it was rushed - ).
If you're from New Orleans or have an interest in the city, you may enjoy this. Otherwise, I'd definitely pass. There is, I'm sure, more interesting nonfiction written about New Orleans and/or Hurricane Katrina.
November 23, 2010
Reed writes for Vogue, which did an excerpt of this book early on. At that point it was an ode to her Garden District house, which she'd just moved into and was remodeling, with much detail about her scurrilous contractors and expensive furnishings. And then Katrina hit, so it became a story about surviving the hurricane and chronicling the city's recovery.
It's mildly interesting, but I'm put off by Reed's constant name-dropping, parenthetical explanations, and restaurant reviews. Sentences have the form of: "And then I met A (who was the person who married B, formerly the governor of C and sister-in-law of D), who helped us drink wines E F and G at Restaurant H, which is owned by I, who also owns Restaurants J and K, and whose chef is L, formerly of restaurant M, and moved here from California." I don't give a hoot.
There are interesting little details, like she says that one of the trials of post-hurricane recovery was cleaning out one's refrigerator, since the heat was oppressive and the power was off for about a month. Thousands of refrigerators were unsalvageable. When she wrote that piece for Vogue, apparently the editor there nixed it for being too "let them eat cake." While the detail is interesting, I agree with that editor, and would apply the criticism to much of the rest of the book too. While Reed obviously loves her city, and does some civic work to help restore it, she comes off as extraordinarily affluent and very self-absorbed.
It's mildly interesting, but I'm put off by Reed's constant name-dropping, parenthetical explanations, and restaurant reviews. Sentences have the form of: "And then I met A (who was the person who married B, formerly the governor of C and sister-in-law of D), who helped us drink wines E F and G at Restaurant H, which is owned by I, who also owns Restaurants J and K, and whose chef is L, formerly of restaurant M, and moved here from California." I don't give a hoot.
There are interesting little details, like she says that one of the trials of post-hurricane recovery was cleaning out one's refrigerator, since the heat was oppressive and the power was off for about a month. Thousands of refrigerators were unsalvageable. When she wrote that piece for Vogue, apparently the editor there nixed it for being too "let them eat cake." While the detail is interesting, I agree with that editor, and would apply the criticism to much of the rest of the book too. While Reed obviously loves her city, and does some civic work to help restore it, she comes off as extraordinarily affluent and very self-absorbed.
February 18, 2011
There were things I loved about this book, and some that I didn't like as much. The author really brings the city of New Orleans to life - she does a lot of food writing, and that aspect of the book absolutely shines. I love New Orleans and I found myself longing to return to dine in the many establishments Reed describes. Her writing is smooth and witty, but I was a little put off by her constant name-dropping (famous restaurateurs, writers, musicians - she knows everyone in New York and New Orleans and they're all "a dear friend"). The author is herself a relatively famous writer, so I suppose I can forgive her a bit. Along those same lines, though, much of the book is devoted to the meticulous (and disastrous) renovation of her pricey home in the Garden District. While these parts have their own "Money Pit"-esque charms, they're a little distastefully juxtaposed with her description of Katrina and its aftermath. Hundreds of people died during the storm in New Orleans, countless more lost everything they had. To her credit, Reed does talk about these issues at length. But listening to the author describe her tantrums over pricey bathroom fixtures while her own house was luckily left mostly unscathed by the storm...well, even Reed admits it's a tad "let them eat cake" - and I have to agree. That being said - if you like New Orleans, you'll probably enjoy this book!
August 31, 2009
This book is strongest when the author is sticking to her journalistic roots. At one point she mentions that one of her editors makes her strike a passage from a piece on cleaning her vile fridge after Katrina, which was her only real loss, because it is her "Marie Antoinette" moment. The book is very Marie Antoinette. I was too young to care when the Edwin Edwards hoopla was all happening, and her insights into his campaigns is phenomenal. I understood a lot more, and I want to look into more details now.
But this book is written by a yuppie with yuppies in mind, for the most part. Whine whine whine..I have a bad contractor...woe is me...boohoo...this contractor stinks...whine whine whine...
Here's the deal, lady. You chose to buy a dilapidated home and fix it before Katrina. After Katrina, there were a lot of people who needed way more help than you did, and not by choice. Be thankful you had who and what you had. My father lost his business and was out of work for 10 months, battling with permits and contractors and electricians and plumbers and the like. Definitely not by choice. He got screwed a few times, too, and you know what he did? He fired those people and hired new ones. BAM!
But, for the most part, I enjoyed it.
But this book is written by a yuppie with yuppies in mind, for the most part. Whine whine whine..I have a bad contractor...woe is me...boohoo...this contractor stinks...whine whine whine...
Here's the deal, lady. You chose to buy a dilapidated home and fix it before Katrina. After Katrina, there were a lot of people who needed way more help than you did, and not by choice. Be thankful you had who and what you had. My father lost his business and was out of work for 10 months, battling with permits and contractors and electricians and plumbers and the like. Definitely not by choice. He got screwed a few times, too, and you know what he did? He fired those people and hired new ones. BAM!
But, for the most part, I enjoyed it.
March 9, 2024
This book gave me exactly what I wanted: I list of all the good restaurants in New Orleans and a feeling of excitement for our upcoming trip to The Big Easy. It also gave me more than I expected with all the Katrina history and anecdotes. I was young when Katrina hit and I live in the Midwest. The two combined means I knew relatively little about the details of this tragic event. There were times it was a bit pretentious and self-congratulating, but I don’t really expect much else from a magazine writer. They have to have connections, both to do what they do, and as a result of what they do. And few people in this world are recognized for their good works without a little self-congratulation. All in all, this is my favorite of all the books in and about New Orleans that I’ve devoured in anticipation and preparation for our upcoming trip, other than the children’s books I’ve read with my son. If you’re planning a trip to New Orleans for the first time, I highly recommend this book. Also, if you’re planning a big remodel anytime soon, Reed’s tale is worth the time. Her remodel is a cautionary tale I could sadly relate to more than I would have hoped. All in all, this short, interesting, and well-informed memoir was a good read.
August 21, 2016
Read this in preparation for my trip to New Orleans.
At first this seemed like a lot of name dropping about famous authors, but I took notes - I may want to read -
Joan Didion, Book of Common Prayer
Walker Percy - 1968 essay for Harper's, "New Orleans Mon Amour"
Robert Brandfon, King Cotton
Tennessee Williams
Sherwood Anderson
Ellen Gilchrist, The Annunciation
Shelby Foote, The Correspondence of Shelby Foote and Walker Percy
Lots of talk about restaurants - I always wonder who eats out enough to support all those restaurants; I guess some are people who write for Vogue.
p177 after contemplating moving to Nashville: "But then I started thinking about the food, and how there really wasn't much in Nashville that was worth eating--certainly nothing of the caliber that Donald and Ken and Besh and so many others were turning out in New Orleans every day--nor were there any oyster bars or Mexican food stands or drive-through daiquiri shops."
Ogden museum - Ogden After Hours weekly event at which drinks are served and local musicians perform.
Irvin Mayfield epic jazz piece "For All the Saints"
At first this seemed like a lot of name dropping about famous authors, but I took notes - I may want to read -
Joan Didion, Book of Common Prayer
Walker Percy - 1968 essay for Harper's, "New Orleans Mon Amour"
Robert Brandfon, King Cotton
Tennessee Williams
Sherwood Anderson
Ellen Gilchrist, The Annunciation
Shelby Foote, The Correspondence of Shelby Foote and Walker Percy
Lots of talk about restaurants - I always wonder who eats out enough to support all those restaurants; I guess some are people who write for Vogue.
p177 after contemplating moving to Nashville: "But then I started thinking about the food, and how there really wasn't much in Nashville that was worth eating--certainly nothing of the caliber that Donald and Ken and Besh and so many others were turning out in New Orleans every day--nor were there any oyster bars or Mexican food stands or drive-through daiquiri shops."
Ogden museum - Ogden After Hours weekly event at which drinks are served and local musicians perform.
Irvin Mayfield epic jazz piece "For All the Saints"
April 9, 2019
Having just visited New Orleans, eaten some transcendent meals and wandered the streets of the garden district, Tremé, Carrollton, Marigny, Bywater and Quarter, this book was a semiprecious gem. It gave me little bits of history, covered crime and corruption in a real way, described neighborhoods with lovely little details. About the oppressive heat and humidity, the grit and grime, it does not hold back. It also lauded New Orleans’ flora and fauna—banana trees, live oaks, and magnolias, big-hearted crack addicts, renegade chefs, and resident crazy contractors. The city’s pirates and privateers, the crazies and Krewes, the broken and beautiful post-Katrina reality. Is it an ode to white privilege and the power of money to solve so many problems? Yes. Does it make me want to go back and see more closely the silk drapes and garden architecture of New Orleans gorgeous homes? Yes. New Orleans is a town that doesn’t allow visitors to shy from its lovely trappings and dank underbelly. And Julie Reed does a great job of capturing its crusty corners and lavish charms.
October 4, 2009
While the story about Reed's settlement in New Orleans, the disasters of her home renovation and her personal experience of Hurricane Katrina were interesting, there were a few parts that I thought were unnecessary and distracted from the real story. I liked reading a first-person account of Hurricane Katrina, but because Reed fled the area and returned post-Katrina, I found myself disappointed not to get more details about those pivotal days after the hurricane hit. This, of course, was not Reed's fault, but I hope stories of those who remained, who faced death and disaster from their rooftops or the Superdome, will also be told.
Given the fact that Reed wrote this book not once, but twice (her laptop containing the only copy of almost her entire book along with all her notes and journal entries was stolen in a robbery), I have to wonder if that original version might have been tighter with a little less filler and a little more story.
Given the fact that Reed wrote this book not once, but twice (her laptop containing the only copy of almost her entire book along with all her notes and journal entries was stolen in a robbery), I have to wonder if that original version might have been tighter with a little less filler and a little more story.
June 5, 2017
The House on First Street: My New Orleans Story might be my least favorite book of the year. I'm cutting the author some slack by giving it two stars because the original draft was lost when her computer was stolen, which at least explains the hurried & unedited feel the book has. However, this book is rough to get through. Like others have already said the book isn't sure what it wants to be so it makes the various elements quite difficult to to follow (when the election comes up three quarters of the way through the book again it feels as though you've hit a brick wall). To me the book read more like a very long email to friends rather than a book that's accessible to the general public. The author mentions locals and family friends as though the read should know who these people are even when they are only fleetingly mentioned. The end result is a disjointed and confusing read.
March 27, 2022
Before I read this book, I read some of the reviews, so I knew there was a lot of criticism of the author's privilege, which helped her return to NOLA after Katrina the federal flood and return to a modicum of "normal life" more easily than many of those affected by the catastrophe. That she was privileged (in a number of ways) and that it paved the way to what, by comparison to many, was a smoother, less painful return is true. But I didn't see a reason to fault her for telling her story. It was one of many stories that came out that horrible episode—another slice of life in a time of horror. In addition, it seems that she is completely aware of her privilege—she alludes to it a lot and she even talks about it directly now and again. She's generous—that's certain. She was not very good at vetting prospective contractors... but she's quite a good writer, and stands her book in good stead with me.
October 2, 2011
This book was almost offensive. I picked it up when we were in New Orleans, hoping to learn a bit more about the city. The description made it sound very intriguing. It turned out to be mostly a chronicle of all the ways this woman spent money (and a lot of it)... on food, renovating her house, etc, etc. She talked more about her home renovation mishaps that were happening as the city was recovering after Katrina. She tried to frame her story as if it was about the rejuvenation of the city but it really just reads like a story of her bragging about how rich she is. It was also horribly edited and filled with mistakes. BLECH.
January 26, 2019
Julia Reed is probably a very nice charitable person. She is a contributing editor for two magazines. She, though, wrote a book centered around the house she and her husband John purchased in the Garden District of New Orleans. She speaks of the food in NO, which is great. She speaks of the people who helped her on the house; the ineptness of most and the efficiency of others. She seems to be rich and can spend the dough freely. She can do that. No judgement. She neglects to mention much of the fellow city dwellers who died (1833) or the ones displaced, sometimes forever, from their homes. For that she gets a "3" from me, which I never give.
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