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problemreader's review against another edition
3.0
Hard to get into, but once I got past the beginning from the mom's point of view it got much better. I didn't like the parents at all. Interesting subject matter and well-written.
shelleyrae's review against another edition
4.0
As a mother of a teenager, the internet and other forms of digital communication and their impact on social relationships is proving to be difficult to negotiate. Teenagers casually share both the most banal and intimate details of their lives online with little thought as to consequences. With the careless yet universal attitude, "it will never happen to me", they disregard the warnings of parents and insist that technology is benign, ignoring the fact that behind the faceless audience of their Facebook feed or blog lurk strangers and even friends, who are equally unable to distinguish between public and private information. There have been numerous news stories of teenagers inappropriately sharing information, from libelous rumours about school teachers and friends to surreptitiously recorded sexual acts, and those involved are all bewildered that their 'private' communication has become so public.
In This Beautiful Life, thirteen year old Daisy, desperate for fifteen year old Jake Bergamont's affection, emails him a sexually explicit video. Unthinkingly, without malice or forethought, Jake forwards the video to his best friend, who forwards it to others and within hours the video has been seen by hundreds and then thousands of people.
This Beautiful Life is an examination of the fall out of that single moment of poor judgment on the Bergamonts. Under the strain of the consequences, the privileged life of the family begins to disintegrate. Jake is suspended from his elite private school and finds himself both vilified and lauded. Richard Bergamont's successful career is sidelined and Liz Bergamont sinks into a mire of depression and obsession. Coco, their precocious six year old daughter, is affected by the inattention of her parents as they navigate the legal and social repercussions of their son's action.
I have to admit I was hoping for more from this novel, which seems to have more to say about the privileged existence of Upper West side New Yorkers than the issues of digital privacy or precocious sexualisation. The author takes great pains to illustrate the hallmarks of wealth, birthday tea at the Plaza for 6 year olds, immaculately coiffured mothers at the school gate and parents absent in far flung locations, and contrasts it, with a complete lack of irony, with the Bergamot's "middle class" lifestyle. The Bergamot's may lack a driver on call and a maid but their money and status provides a buffer for their son just as effectively. Richard and Liz may like to tell themselves they are different from their neighbors because they grew up in households without a trust fund in American suburbia but they have embraced the trappings of the upper class. Richard is intent on more money and more status while Liz is eaten up by self indulgent insecurity. At the first sign of trouble their instinct is to throw money, lawyers and connection at the problem and retreat rather than deal with the issues or admit responsibility.
While Richard and Liz fall apart, Jake is left to flounder on his own, confused and frightened. He knows he has done something wrong but he receives mixed messages from those around him, from his mother who blames Daisy and her absent parents, to the school's most popular girl who kneels before him. I thought the strength of the novel lay in Schulman's portrayal of Jake, who is startlingly sympathetic. There is no doubt he did the wrong thing by forwarding that email but he lacked the intent to cause harm and without intent is he a monster or did he simply make a mistake, how much blame can be apportioned to him for what follows, who is responsible? Schulman doesn't really attempt to address these questions in the way I hoped though she is clear later on that by Richard, Liz and his therapist failing to consider them there are sad consequences for Jake later in life.
This Beautiful Life is a contradiction, it is a story of a compelling, thought provoking scenario yet it is also shallow and somehow empty. At just over 200 pages it feels entirely to short, and the ending collapses into a vague epilogue. While I would recommend This Beautiful Life I expect it would garner a range of responses (making it an interesting choice for a book club), on Goodreads almost as many people have given it 5 stars as 1 star.
In This Beautiful Life, thirteen year old Daisy, desperate for fifteen year old Jake Bergamont's affection, emails him a sexually explicit video. Unthinkingly, without malice or forethought, Jake forwards the video to his best friend, who forwards it to others and within hours the video has been seen by hundreds and then thousands of people.
This Beautiful Life is an examination of the fall out of that single moment of poor judgment on the Bergamonts. Under the strain of the consequences, the privileged life of the family begins to disintegrate. Jake is suspended from his elite private school and finds himself both vilified and lauded. Richard Bergamont's successful career is sidelined and Liz Bergamont sinks into a mire of depression and obsession. Coco, their precocious six year old daughter, is affected by the inattention of her parents as they navigate the legal and social repercussions of their son's action.
I have to admit I was hoping for more from this novel, which seems to have more to say about the privileged existence of Upper West side New Yorkers than the issues of digital privacy or precocious sexualisation. The author takes great pains to illustrate the hallmarks of wealth, birthday tea at the Plaza for 6 year olds, immaculately coiffured mothers at the school gate and parents absent in far flung locations, and contrasts it, with a complete lack of irony, with the Bergamot's "middle class" lifestyle. The Bergamot's may lack a driver on call and a maid but their money and status provides a buffer for their son just as effectively. Richard and Liz may like to tell themselves they are different from their neighbors because they grew up in households without a trust fund in American suburbia but they have embraced the trappings of the upper class. Richard is intent on more money and more status while Liz is eaten up by self indulgent insecurity. At the first sign of trouble their instinct is to throw money, lawyers and connection at the problem and retreat rather than deal with the issues or admit responsibility.
While Richard and Liz fall apart, Jake is left to flounder on his own, confused and frightened. He knows he has done something wrong but he receives mixed messages from those around him, from his mother who blames Daisy and her absent parents, to the school's most popular girl who kneels before him. I thought the strength of the novel lay in Schulman's portrayal of Jake, who is startlingly sympathetic. There is no doubt he did the wrong thing by forwarding that email but he lacked the intent to cause harm and without intent is he a monster or did he simply make a mistake, how much blame can be apportioned to him for what follows, who is responsible? Schulman doesn't really attempt to address these questions in the way I hoped though she is clear later on that by Richard, Liz and his therapist failing to consider them there are sad consequences for Jake later in life.
This Beautiful Life is a contradiction, it is a story of a compelling, thought provoking scenario yet it is also shallow and somehow empty. At just over 200 pages it feels entirely to short, and the ending collapses into a vague epilogue. While I would recommend This Beautiful Life I expect it would garner a range of responses (making it an interesting choice for a book club), on Goodreads almost as many people have given it 5 stars as 1 star.
amymaddess's review against another edition
4.0
I like that this book looks at the ripple effect of an incident through every member of one family. Through this, we get to look intricately at the way families think so similar, but also how they differ from each other and can live so closely yet think so differently. Jake, both of his parents, and his little sister, are affected by a video that Jake receives, and they all must make sense of it in their own way. Watching his parents cope, together and separately, and watching the tumultuous strain that this event has on their relationship, is interesting because it speaks to how fragile our state of contentment is. At any moment, one event could change everything about our daily life. The family prevails through the struggle, some members more healthy than others, and I found myself rooting for each character individually, even though they were occasionally pitted against one another. This wasn't a fantastic, epic read that I will recommend to just anyone, but it did make me pause and ponder. And there is a scene involving CoCo that really hit me and gave this book an extra star for me.
sarahsass's review
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.25
melissafirman's review
1.0
The Bergamots are a typical upper-middle class family who recently relocated to New York City from Ithaca. There's Liz, a wound-way-too-tight, former art historian turned stay-at-home, semi-helicopter parent of a mom who has nothing better to do but e-stalk an ex-boyfriend's blog and obsess over whether she loves her kids too much.
She's married to Richard, whose prestigious and high-powered job at fictitious Astor University is the reason the Bergamot family relocated to New York City in the first place. There's adorable, spirited six year old Coco, whom Liz and Richard adopted from China and who has a coterie of friends at her swanky private school.
And then ... there's 15 year old Jake, just doing his best to fit in with his friends at his new school. He's on the cusp of the awkward beginnings of independence while trying to be cool and trying unsuccessfully to get the attention of Audrey, a girl he likes but who happens to be otherwise attached.
As I said, Jake's a typical 15 year old guy, with hormones firing on all cylinders and then some. So after he and 13 year old Daisy hook up at a party after too much beer, and he (rightfully so) tells her she's too young for such shenanigans, Daisy tries wooing him back by emailing him a video of herself in a compromising position. (Read between the lines here, folks, as I'm trying to avoid the spam and Google hits from getting even crazier than usual).
What does Jake do? Well, he's a little confused and perplexed and amused by said video ... but he does what any 15 year old boy would do: he forwards it to his best friend.
Who forwards it to his twin brother. Who forwards it to his best friend. And then, well, you can guess what happens. What poor naive Daisy (who is neither poor nor naive) thought would only be for Jake's eyes winds up going viral - and it's all Jake's fault.
This Beautiful Life focuses on the aftermath and the consequences that occur as a result of the video's explosion into cyberspace, and the destructive effect it has on the Bergamot family. Because of one mistake and one split-second decision, each person's sense of security and what is truly a "beautiful life" (this family doesn't want for anything, believe you me) is shaken. It's a compelling premise, and even though the novel is set in 2003 when all this was still uncharted territory, it resonates with parents and anyone who cares for kids because nine years later, we've seen where this Pandora's Box has led.
That being said, as much as I thought I would like this book (and wanted to), I felt that This Beautiful Life had too many issues in regard to the undeveloped characters, the writing style, and the plot. Let's start with the characters, shall we?
They could not have possibly been more stereotypical. I'll be blunt here: I'm tired of "yummy mummies" (an adjective/noun combo special that I cannot stand) whose playdates with their adorable cherubs consist of going to tea party sleepovers at The fucking Plaza Hotel and who whine about the headmistress of the school where their husbands are "legacy" alums, and how hard their goddamn lives are because they can't manage to decide if their kid should be taking ballet or African dance lessons, and who bitch about the cost of organic frozen strawberries. I hate people like that - which means that in reading This Beautiful Life, Liz Bergamot and her so-called friends were not people I cared to spend much time with.
(I do think the setting of 2003 worked against the novel in that aspect, at least for me. In these recessionary times when so many people continue to struggle, reading about people with lifestyles like that is kind of a turnoff to me.)
Liz and Richard's reactions to Daisy's video and their behavior in the aftermath of their son receiving and forwarding it struck me as ... maddening. I get wanting to protect your kid and being angry at the other party, and I know all too many parents carry the mantle of "my kid can do no wrong." I understand that. But there's absolutely no acceptance of personal responsibility here and no culpability on the part of the parents, no self-examination of what within themselves or within their family led to this. They don't go into counseling; they barely discuss the incident at all. They just disintegrate into themselves, which is sad and perhaps a realistic reaction, but a missed opportunity, in my view.
Not to mention, Richard's reaction as a father while watching this video of a 13 year old prancing to Beyonce was enough to give me the heebie-jeebies:
"And for all the video's dismal raunch, its tawdriness, for all its sexual immaturity and unknowingness, there is something about the way this girl has revealed herself, the way that she has offered herself, truly stripped herself bare, that is brave and powerful and potent and ridiculous and self-immolating and completely nuts. It speaks to him. Is he crazy? He feels crazier in this moment than he has ever felt in his life. He feels touched by it. And because the video is all of these things and more, because in some way it is truly the literal essence of what it means to be naked, because this Daisy makes herself completely vulnerable and open and 100 percent exposed, it also breaks Richard's heart." (pg. 118)
Stop right there and get thee to the nearest psychologist, dude. THE GIRL IS ALL OF 13 and making a suggestive video to get attention from a boy! I'm sorry, but there's nothing brave or empowering about that and the fact that this Dad is trying to convince me as a reader that there IS ... well, that's the sort of thing that makes my personal Creepmeter turn purple.
The overall writing style of was, in my opinion, somewhat bland and at times, confusing. For example, while waiting in their lawyer's office, Richard realizes that the lawyer
"holds [his] son's future in his hands. This is a little like waiting for a neurosurgeon, Richard thinks, and then stops the thought, blocks it. The analogy is too terrible and too frightening." (pg. 107).
Huh? Why? What am I missing here? (Richard's father died when Richard was young, but of a heart attack, not of a brain tumor or something, which would make this more logical.) There are several other head-scratching, what-the-? instances where this sort of thing occurred, so many things left unexplained, the ending rushed and seemingly tacked on as an afterthought. Even the symbolism and connection to The Great Gatsby seemed to be gratuitous, thrown in there as a tangent, when it could have been much stronger and emphasized.
Speaking of gratuitous, within the writing itself there are too many phrases and scenes that seem included for the shock value factor. This might sound a little hypocritical coming from me, as I fully admit to dropping an f-bomb or two on occasion, but Schulman's prose in this novel tends to include such off-putting phrases like "In Ithaca, where they lived pretty fucking happily the last ten years ..." (pg. 5) and nine pages later, "She reveled in the privacy. That was life in Ithaca, and it did not suck." (pg. 14). There's a description on page 175 of Liz "in yoga pants, a wife-beater." (What's wrong with saying a tank top?) Again, I'm no prude, but I found these word choices unnecessary.
Ultimately, in my opinion, I felt that there were too many instances throughout this novel where either the writing style or the characters' actions detracted from what promised to be a truly provocative story, for all the right reasons.
The one exception was with the character of Jake. I thought that Schulman captured Jake and his peers very well. Their conversations and actions, their angst and their desire to fit in, felt authentic to me. Even though I don't have a 15 year old, my work brings me into contact with many of them and the descriptions and the dialogue seemed real. It almost made me wonder if This Beautiful Life would have worked better - or have been more powerful - as more of a young adult focused novel. As it is, it seems to be one targeted for a parental audience, one that would strike fear into any parent's heart that this could happen to any of us.
But I think it misses the mark on that because these characters are too unrelatable personally and their 2003 lifestyle too distant from the 2012 reality that so many of us have. I can't imagine living anywhere near the kind of lifestyle that these people do. They're nothing like me. So if the theme is about the disintegration of a family after such an event and them wringing their hands over what they potentially stand to lose, then I'm not going to be able to identify with that because so many people have lost everything, you know? I know I'm harping on that, but I truly could not get past that aspect of this novel.
We also know much more now in terms of sexting and the legal ramifications, and it's hard to place oneself back almost a decade ago. But if the message is one of a cautionary one, one directed to a teenage audience, maybe that would have been better reinforced if the story itself had been told through Jake's eyes only ... just like the video was meant to be.
I wished I liked This Beautiful Life more than I did. Still, I'm grateful to TLC Book Tours for including me on the tour and for Harper Perennial for sending me a copy of the book in exchange for my (probably all too) honest review, for which I wasn't compensated in any way.
She's married to Richard, whose prestigious and high-powered job at fictitious Astor University is the reason the Bergamot family relocated to New York City in the first place. There's adorable, spirited six year old Coco, whom Liz and Richard adopted from China and who has a coterie of friends at her swanky private school.
And then ... there's 15 year old Jake, just doing his best to fit in with his friends at his new school. He's on the cusp of the awkward beginnings of independence while trying to be cool and trying unsuccessfully to get the attention of Audrey, a girl he likes but who happens to be otherwise attached.
As I said, Jake's a typical 15 year old guy, with hormones firing on all cylinders and then some. So after he and 13 year old Daisy hook up at a party after too much beer, and he (rightfully so) tells her she's too young for such shenanigans, Daisy tries wooing him back by emailing him a video of herself in a compromising position. (Read between the lines here, folks, as I'm trying to avoid the spam and Google hits from getting even crazier than usual).
What does Jake do? Well, he's a little confused and perplexed and amused by said video ... but he does what any 15 year old boy would do: he forwards it to his best friend.
Who forwards it to his twin brother. Who forwards it to his best friend. And then, well, you can guess what happens. What poor naive Daisy (who is neither poor nor naive) thought would only be for Jake's eyes winds up going viral - and it's all Jake's fault.
This Beautiful Life focuses on the aftermath and the consequences that occur as a result of the video's explosion into cyberspace, and the destructive effect it has on the Bergamot family. Because of one mistake and one split-second decision, each person's sense of security and what is truly a "beautiful life" (this family doesn't want for anything, believe you me) is shaken. It's a compelling premise, and even though the novel is set in 2003 when all this was still uncharted territory, it resonates with parents and anyone who cares for kids because nine years later, we've seen where this Pandora's Box has led.
That being said, as much as I thought I would like this book (and wanted to), I felt that This Beautiful Life had too many issues in regard to the undeveloped characters, the writing style, and the plot. Let's start with the characters, shall we?
They could not have possibly been more stereotypical. I'll be blunt here: I'm tired of "yummy mummies" (an adjective/noun combo special that I cannot stand) whose playdates with their adorable cherubs consist of going to tea party sleepovers at The fucking Plaza Hotel and who whine about the headmistress of the school where their husbands are "legacy" alums, and how hard their goddamn lives are because they can't manage to decide if their kid should be taking ballet or African dance lessons, and who bitch about the cost of organic frozen strawberries. I hate people like that - which means that in reading This Beautiful Life, Liz Bergamot and her so-called friends were not people I cared to spend much time with.
(I do think the setting of 2003 worked against the novel in that aspect, at least for me. In these recessionary times when so many people continue to struggle, reading about people with lifestyles like that is kind of a turnoff to me.)
Liz and Richard's reactions to Daisy's video and their behavior in the aftermath of their son receiving and forwarding it struck me as ... maddening. I get wanting to protect your kid and being angry at the other party, and I know all too many parents carry the mantle of "my kid can do no wrong." I understand that. But there's absolutely no acceptance of personal responsibility here and no culpability on the part of the parents, no self-examination of what within themselves or within their family led to this. They don't go into counseling; they barely discuss the incident at all. They just disintegrate into themselves, which is sad and perhaps a realistic reaction, but a missed opportunity, in my view.
Not to mention, Richard's reaction as a father while watching this video of a 13 year old prancing to Beyonce was enough to give me the heebie-jeebies:
"And for all the video's dismal raunch, its tawdriness, for all its sexual immaturity and unknowingness, there is something about the way this girl has revealed herself, the way that she has offered herself, truly stripped herself bare, that is brave and powerful and potent and ridiculous and self-immolating and completely nuts. It speaks to him. Is he crazy? He feels crazier in this moment than he has ever felt in his life. He feels touched by it. And because the video is all of these things and more, because in some way it is truly the literal essence of what it means to be naked, because this Daisy makes herself completely vulnerable and open and 100 percent exposed, it also breaks Richard's heart." (pg. 118)
Stop right there and get thee to the nearest psychologist, dude. THE GIRL IS ALL OF 13 and making a suggestive video to get attention from a boy! I'm sorry, but there's nothing brave or empowering about that and the fact that this Dad is trying to convince me as a reader that there IS ... well, that's the sort of thing that makes my personal Creepmeter turn purple.
The overall writing style of was, in my opinion, somewhat bland and at times, confusing. For example, while waiting in their lawyer's office, Richard realizes that the lawyer
"holds [his] son's future in his hands. This is a little like waiting for a neurosurgeon, Richard thinks, and then stops the thought, blocks it. The analogy is too terrible and too frightening." (pg. 107).
Huh? Why? What am I missing here? (Richard's father died when Richard was young, but of a heart attack, not of a brain tumor or something, which would make this more logical.) There are several other head-scratching, what-the-? instances where this sort of thing occurred, so many things left unexplained, the ending rushed and seemingly tacked on as an afterthought. Even the symbolism and connection to The Great Gatsby seemed to be gratuitous, thrown in there as a tangent, when it could have been much stronger and emphasized.
Speaking of gratuitous, within the writing itself there are too many phrases and scenes that seem included for the shock value factor. This might sound a little hypocritical coming from me, as I fully admit to dropping an f-bomb or two on occasion, but Schulman's prose in this novel tends to include such off-putting phrases like "In Ithaca, where they lived pretty fucking happily the last ten years ..." (pg. 5) and nine pages later, "She reveled in the privacy. That was life in Ithaca, and it did not suck." (pg. 14). There's a description on page 175 of Liz "in yoga pants, a wife-beater." (What's wrong with saying a tank top?) Again, I'm no prude, but I found these word choices unnecessary.
Ultimately, in my opinion, I felt that there were too many instances throughout this novel where either the writing style or the characters' actions detracted from what promised to be a truly provocative story, for all the right reasons.
The one exception was with the character of Jake. I thought that Schulman captured Jake and his peers very well. Their conversations and actions, their angst and their desire to fit in, felt authentic to me. Even though I don't have a 15 year old, my work brings me into contact with many of them and the descriptions and the dialogue seemed real. It almost made me wonder if This Beautiful Life would have worked better - or have been more powerful - as more of a young adult focused novel. As it is, it seems to be one targeted for a parental audience, one that would strike fear into any parent's heart that this could happen to any of us.
But I think it misses the mark on that because these characters are too unrelatable personally and their 2003 lifestyle too distant from the 2012 reality that so many of us have. I can't imagine living anywhere near the kind of lifestyle that these people do. They're nothing like me. So if the theme is about the disintegration of a family after such an event and them wringing their hands over what they potentially stand to lose, then I'm not going to be able to identify with that because so many people have lost everything, you know? I know I'm harping on that, but I truly could not get past that aspect of this novel.
We also know much more now in terms of sexting and the legal ramifications, and it's hard to place oneself back almost a decade ago. But if the message is one of a cautionary one, one directed to a teenage audience, maybe that would have been better reinforced if the story itself had been told through Jake's eyes only ... just like the video was meant to be.
I wished I liked This Beautiful Life more than I did. Still, I'm grateful to TLC Book Tours for including me on the tour and for Harper Perennial for sending me a copy of the book in exchange for my (probably all too) honest review, for which I wasn't compensated in any way.
mareoneonta's review against another edition
3.0
Didn't care too much for the ending. But it was in interesting read.
anniewill's review against another edition
2.0
As usual, sloppy or poor editing is bugging me while I am reading. For example, on page 92:
Who wouldn't like that kind of freedom? Richard sometimes thinks when he stays late at the office, Lizzie calling to remind him of the importance of face time with the family.
Is it just me, or shouldn't that be one sentence? Why isn't there a comma after "freedom"?
I'm finding that a lot of the dialog and the thoughts of Jake, the teenage boy, aren't ringing true to me. I'm halfway through, and not totally invested in the story or the characters. Verdict is still out though.
~~~
Upon completion I'm not changing my initial thoughts about this novel. I think it's a bad sign when, as reading, you are counting down the pages until you finish. That's how I was during most, if not all of this book.
I ended up not really caring about the situation or any of the characters in the book. As a matter of fact, I didn't like any of the characters at all. I was very disappointed overall with the entire novel.
Who wouldn't like that kind of freedom? Richard sometimes thinks when he stays late at the office, Lizzie calling to remind him of the importance of face time with the family.
Is it just me, or shouldn't that be one sentence? Why isn't there a comma after "freedom"?
I'm finding that a lot of the dialog and the thoughts of Jake, the teenage boy, aren't ringing true to me. I'm halfway through, and not totally invested in the story or the characters. Verdict is still out though.
~~~
Upon completion I'm not changing my initial thoughts about this novel. I think it's a bad sign when, as reading, you are counting down the pages until you finish. That's how I was during most, if not all of this book.
I ended up not really caring about the situation or any of the characters in the book. As a matter of fact, I didn't like any of the characters at all. I was very disappointed overall with the entire novel.
karenks's review against another edition
3.0
This book had potential. The subject matter could have been explored more, I thought Jake got way too much blame for this e-mail from Daisy, I think she should have been more responsible for her actions. I did not connect at all with the characters like I did with Defending Jacob (which I loved)and Reconstructing Amelia, I wish this book spent more time on the sexting theme then on Jake's parents.
lisamquinn's review
3.0
This book was horrific. (Not in the writing; don't worry, Helen, I'm not mad at you!) It just had a terribly real premise in that crazy kids forward naughty, self-made videos. It kinda of skivved me out. But I finished it...