I like Caroline Knapp's writing, and it's sad to me that, other than her book about dogs I've read all she's ever written. And I won't read her book about dogs, because unlike her, I don't care much for them. I found myself rooting for the asshole cats in Lucille Versus Stumpy.

I particularly enjoyed the essay entitled Endless (and Endless) Summer, I didn't realize there were others like me who really don't enjoy the summertime, and not just the heat. I like to be moody and sometimes I enjoy staying indoors and the fact that it's always possible to go out and enjoy the weather means that I wind up feeling that I'm wasting most of it. Besides, I hate the heat. I also enjoyed the eponymous essay at the end. While I'm aware that Caroline Knapp was eventually married, but it was very brief before her death. I'm always interested in reading the perspectives of fellow not-getting-married-not-having-kids types. My favorite sentence from the essay, and probably the entire book, was "Solitude is breeding ground for idiosyncrasy, and I relish that about it, the way it liberates whim." Solitude for the win. ( )

This posthumous essay collection was originally published in contemporary magazines and staid newspapers. It’s definitely a strange array of subject matter to discuss in such a public forum! Knapp talks about her depression, alcohol addiction, anorexia, and her parents’ deaths. The most entertaining parts are her ruminations on life's daily frustrations: the difference between men and women; having nothing to wear; workplace issues. You can’t help but recognize yourself in a lot of her pieces; there were parts of it where I was sure she was writing about me: wanting to be Italian; anal retentive home decorating; constantly running errands; ending friendships; dog love, parental issues. A couple of minor complaints. It’s not in chronological order so it’s a bit hard to follow. Why are there no chapters about her boyfriend? Ddid she stop writing after cancer diagnosis? We might have gotten a more complete picture of Knapp if this information had been included. Her publisher put the collection together so maybe these shortcomings are her doing. Ultimately, this glimpse into Knapp’s life of “solitude, shyness, and loneliness” was very engaging. ( )

I've been reading the essays in this book off and on for a few months now and just finished them. Knapp's writing is, I hesitate to say it, but, well, it's addictive. I could never read "just one," because the essays are all so GOOD. Like potato chips, you might say, but whole-grain healthy, chips, if there is such a thing. There are things in here that are simply so funny that they could easily be adapted to stand-up comedy, stuff you might hear at The Improv, ya know? Knapp has that kind of pitch-perfect command of the language of real life, and the timing of the delivery is also just perfect. Except Caroline Knapp was, I have learned, an extremely shy person, plagued her whole life by various insecurities and addictive, even destructive, behavior patterns - things like alcoholism and anorexia, which she wrote about in her other books. I have only read one of her other books, the one about her dog, Pack of Two, which I literally devoured, it was such an exquisitely written memoir of what it means to to love a dog and be loved back. I am a collector of "dog books," and that one ranks up there with some of my favorites, like Ackerley's My Dog Tulip and Hal Borland's The Dog Who Came to Stay, or Merle's Door. If you are a dog person and have not yet read Knapp's Pack of Two, then run - don't walk - to your nearest book store and pick up a copy. You'll love it.

Caroline Knapp's essays here will make you laugh, but they will also make you wince in empathy. But in the end you will probably be left feeling sad, because Knapp's writing voice has been forever stilled. She died of cancer in 2002. She was only 42. These essays do constitute a kind of record of her life though, so read 'em and weep - and laugh. And remember a wonderful writer.

Knapp's close friend Gail Caldwell has recently published a memoir of their friendship. It's called Let's Take the Long Way Home. I haven't read that book yet, although I plan to. But I noticed that one of the Amazon reviewers complained that she didn't really feel Caldwell's book brought her to "know" Knapp very well. Well, if she really wants to "know" Caroline Knapp, then she should read this collection, The Merry Recluse. I recommend it highly. It is indeed, "A Life in Essays." I am so grateful that all these columns and other pieces were gathered together here. Terrific stuff! ( )

This is a group of essays put together by Sandra Shea, who was Knapp’s editor at the Boston Phoenix; I am convinced Knapp would never have chosen that particular essay, the last here, for the collection title. The essays are about Knapp’s alcoholism and recovery from it, her anorexia and recovery from it, her solitude and very complicated feelings about it, her (fraternal) twin sister, her father and mother and their deaths and her grieving. If that were all, it would ordinarily be enough to make me run away, rather than pick up this book and read it. But she is convincing about how addiction anesthesizes her against the world and how she does not grow and progress because real decisions are deferred. “People in drinking-and-recovery circles often say that . . . you stop growing when you start drinking alcoholically.” She provides careful, clinical, detailed self-observation about both her eating disorder and her alcoholism.
Also, there are funny essays here, as Shea’s somewhat misleading title suggests. “Dicking Around” explores the question why “the average man has 27 names for his dick ”while “women are much more discreet about their reproductive anatomy.” “What Women Really Need from Science” suggests there are a lot of things science could do more useful to women than fixing things so women at advanced ages can have babies.” Knapp’s point of view is always very personal, centered in her own experience and her own gender, so some material here would appeal mainly to women, for example, “Girl Crushes.” “Notes on Dave” was for me an eerie essay in which Knapp illustrates her observation: “I don’t think I’ve ever met a guy named Dave whom I ended up liking or trusting, whereas almost everyone I know named David is okay.
Knapp was the author of Drinking: A Love Story (Dial, 1996), Pack of Two: The Intricate Bond Between People and Dogs (Dial, 1998), was born in 1960 and died in 2002 of lung cancer. She does not talk about smoking in her two books on addiction. Her columns with the byline “Alice K” were collected as "Alice K.'s Guide to Life: One Woman's Quest for Survival, Sanity and the Perfect New Shoes" (Dutton/Plume, 1994). Appetites: Why Women Want (Counterpoint, 2003), was published after her death ( )