Take the Cannoli: Stories from the New World

by Sarah Vowell

Daughter of a Montana gunsmith and closet Don Corleone disciple ("'The Godfather' is a film crammed with rules for living"), Sarah Vowell has written a delightful series of autobiographical stories which stretch across the immense landscape of the American scene. Tackling a diverse range of subjects, from politics and religion to the forgotten joys of mix-tapes, Vowell has the ability to spin a story on something as mundane as an Italian dessert. In search of the meaning of if not life, at least the ring-a-ding-ding of "That's Life", Vowell takes to the streets of Hoboken, New Jersey in seeking traces of the town's prodigal son, Frank Sinatra. She goes under cover of heavy make-up in an investigation of goth culture, hides from the world in the Chelsea Hotel and finally outgrows Armageddon in time for Y2K ("I don't need the end of the world to make friends anymore"). Brilliantly smart, sharp and engaging, "Take the Cannoli" presents a writer with a truly irresistible voice.

• ISBN10: 024114163X
• ISBN13: 9780241141632
• Publish Date: 31 January 2002 (first published 6 April 2000)
• Publish Status: Out of Print
• Out of Print: 8 February 2005
• Publish Country: GB
• Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
• Imprint: Hamish Hamilton Ltd
• Format: Paperback (UK Trade)
• Pages: 224
• Language: English

Reviews

[MurderByDeath]

A collection of Vowell's essays culled from several magazine/newspaper columns and This American Life, this is one of those books that is difficult for me to rate.   On the one hand, I found her dry humour entertaining, but on the other, I'm not a fan of cynicism in general, and Vowell's weaponised form often taxed my patience.     She and I are the same age, but our childhoods did not share much in the way of common experiences, and we definitely don't share a common political view.  I was, in fact, incredulous that she referred to perjury on the part of a president as a "fib".  But we do share a deep, abiding love for our country even when it disappoints and horrifies us.   The essays I connected with, or enjoyed most were the ones where she was able to put her disaffected persona to the side (or at least mute it) and talk about those experiences common to most everybody: battles with insomnia, her experiences at the rock and roll camp, learning to drive.  There's an essay about Chicago that is brilliant and even though I think she let herself get in her own way, her piece on the Trail of Tears was devastating and moving.   So even though I can't say I loved this work, it's only because I was unable to find enough common ground to do so.  But I do think Vowell is an excellent writer and I'd happily read more of her work; she has a book on famous assassinations I've had my eye on for some time now that I'm definitely going to hunt down.   I read this book for my final Free Friday read; it was 209 pages.