Rating: 3.5 Stars
POPSUGAR Challenge Update: A book that’s under 150 pages
So this is one of those books in whose case the debate of better movie or a better book never ends and I’m very much inclined in favour of the latter. I watched the movie some time back (and fell in love with Audrey Hepburn) and decided to read the book as soon as I could. I knew it was different from the book but I did not know anything of the drastic contrast between the two and I couldn’t be any more happier for the changes.
The story starts with an author meeting an old acquaintance and the only thing common between them? Their mutual infatuation with a lady called Holly Golightly, our protagonist. From there he goes on (somewhat bitterly) to remember his time spent with her. All of nineteen, one can say Holly is naive, flighty, mercurial, flighty, a wannabe and did I say flighty?? Just trying to make my point clear. If not for her age one would assume her to be at least in her mid-twenties for all her wit and worldliness, her lies and sharp tongue. At the same time she can be stupidly naive, who still believes that no person can be mean/ bad and that Tiffany’s the safest place on Earth (without even setting a foot in the said place within the premise of the book).
Quite frankly, I did not know how to place her and where to place her. I just did not like the character AT ALL. But I believe that’s what the author was aiming for. Therefore, I’d rather say that I don’t think Truman actually knew what he was about. The book is a jumble of varying human tendencies and all that in one person. And the ending was the worst part for me. I cannot say more or I’d be giving away too much.
Coming to plus points and the reason why I’m giving Breakfast at Tiffany’s 3.5 stars is the magnificent writing style. Oh yes I’d read all kind of crap happily only if it’s written this beautifully! There’s one specific paragraph that tugged at my heartstrings and I guess just for this, the book deserves the said rating!
On days when the sun was strong, she would wash her hair, and together with the cat, a red tiger-striped tom, sit out on the fire escape thumbing a guitar while her hair dried. Whenever I heard the music, I would go stand quietly by my window. She played very well, and sometimes sang too. Sang in the hoarse, breaking tones of a boy’s adolescent voice. She knew all the show hits, Cole Porter and Kurt Weill; especially she liked the songs from Oklahoma!, which were new that summer and everywhere. But there were moments when she played songs that made you wonder where she learned them, where indeed she came from. Harsh-tender wandering tunes with words that smacked of pineywoods or prairie. One went: Don’t wanna sleep, Don’t wanna die, Just wanna go a-travelin’ through the pastures of the sky; and this one seemed to gratify her the most, for often she continued it long after her hair had dried, after the sun had gone and there were lighted windows in the dusk.
Until the next time lovely people! 🙂 Love,