Shopgirl: A highly acclaimed L.A. fable by one of Hollywood's greatest comics by Steve Martin

Shopgirl: A highly acclaimed L.A. fable by one of Hollywood's greatest comics Reviews

• 
  T G

  A haunting tale...in that I am still haunted by Martin's borderline misogynistic caricatures of women (and what he thinks we do in public restrooms (page 101)). He writes like a child who got a thesaurus for Christmas but has never read a great book, or been allowed to use the f-word, or met a woman, owned a pair of testicles (page 18), or employed an editor.
  
  Don't believe me? Check out how he named his main character: Mirabelle Buttersfield. No one is named Mirabelle Buttersfield! Unless the author is trying so hard to reflect (mirror) his own worth (belle).
  
  I once loved Martin’s comedy, but this slim volume cured me of that.
  
  Read this book only if you already hate bubble-gum, nipples, women or reading.
  
  
• 
  Shannon

  Edit: Goodreads just showed me the following quote from Steve Martin: “Some people have a way with words, and other people...oh, uh, not have way.” Heh. I'm gonna go ahead and add that to my review here. Also, I am totes against GIFs/pics in goodreads reviews usually (because USE YOUR WORDS) but I will make an exception (b/c RuPaul and Visage):
  
  
  OH, what an utterly FASCINATING look into the totally important and equally fascinating stereotypes regarding heterosexual sexual relationships. Everyone in this book could have died in a fire, and I wouldn't have cared. The girl, I hate her. I refuse to believe this girl is smart, everything she does indicates that she is a complete idiot. But the reader is supposed to accept that she is smart because Steve Martin cleverly includes this in the narration by saying something like "She is smart. She reads books". WOW, NEAT. AND SUBTLE! Plus everyone in this book is really shallow and vapid and obsessed with clothes, which I think is contradictory to the claim of any of these people being intelligent at all. Am I saying that people really interested in fashion can't be intelligent? YES, PRETTY MUCH. The narration is ridiculous. BOO.
  
  Also: this book is about a 50 year old rich white guy fucking a young hot 28 year old. And they made a movie out of it and of course, STEVE MARTIN played the 50 yr old. YOUR PLOY IS TRANSPARENT, MARTIN. I haven't seen the movie, but I actually kind of want to. If this story could ever work, I could see it working as a movie. NOT AS A BOOK, Martin isn't a good enough writer to pull it off.
• 
  Jason Koivu

  Welcome to Steve Martin's gallery of portraits!
  
  The subject is the vacuous LA social scene.
  
  First up and the focal point of the show: Mirabelle Buttersfield
  
  Miss Buttersfield is a wallflower coming into her own. She works at a high-end clothing store. Her thoughts on romance and relationships are juvenile.
  
  
  Next we have a brief study on Jeremy.
  
  He begins as a slacker an evolves into a more successful bit of trite pomposity. His thoughts on romance and relationships are juvenile.
  
  
  The next subject is a catalyst for change within the arch of Martin's intended scope for this show: Ray Porter
  
  Ray is too wealthy for his own good. It leaves him with too much time on his hands. His thoughts on romance and relationships are juvenile.
  
  
  Aside from the above, a number of minor works fill out the show.
  
  Critics have lambasted Martin's portraits as non-representative of the true human experience. Those people probably haven't met a Los Angeles socialite, a being who believes that who you know, who you fuck and who you wear is of paramount importance. Some have attacked Martin himself, as if laying blame on him for his subjects' vapid thoughts and actions. This is unfair.
  
  For this reviewer, the portraits themselves are not the problem, it's the overall story that this collection presents that makes the work as a body fall apart. Or perhaps it would be more poignant to say that it falls on its face. As a whole it fails to "move". They are, after all, portraits. They do not move, not themselves nor the viewer.
• 
  Shaindel

  I read this book out of curiosity because I'd always wondered what kind of writer Steve Martin is. (I mean, I'd used his quote "I think I did pretty well, considering all I started out with was a bunch of blank paper" for YEARS in writing classes, at the tops of syllabi, etc. I could at least see what he'd done with that blank paper.)
  
  I was pleasantly surprised. I *really* liked this novella. It was the right size for the story. I think too often writers cram a lot into a short story or stretch out not enough into a novel. I really liked the character of Mirabelle. I liked her struggle to find herself. She was believable. She had real thoughts, real feelings. I was a bit thrown by the Jeremy conversion toward the end of the book, but I don't even understand love and romance in real life, so making it have to be a stretch in a book isn't a huge downfall for me. I am SO glad that Ray Porter remained Ray Porter throughout the novella, decent (sort of) but never fully redeemed. The unforgivable sin in this novella would have been to have him become a prince charming and rescue Mirabelle, or something, a la _Pretty Woman_. ICK!
  
  It did set up the expectation that some older man out there will pay off the remaining $58,000 of my student loans, but it hasn't happened yet.
• 
  Laura

  Steve Martin, how I love you.
  
  But please, please, please don't write anything ever again.
  
  Kisses,
  Laura
  
  PS: Please stop being in movies involving the words "dozen" or "bride" in the title. K thanx.
  
  PPS: Also, if you specifically note on one page that your character does not have a couch, only a FUTON OH MY GOD HOW CLICHED IS THAT, as a really lazy way of saying she "isn't grown up yet," and then later say that a visitor to the character's apartment never saw her cat as it HID UNDER THE COUCH, seriously, you should never ever write anything ever again. This is objective proof, it isn't just me, okay?
• 
  Heidi

  Poignant is the word that comes to mind when I think of this small, well-written, melancholy little book. And who'd have thought it was written by one of SNL's "wild and crazy guys."
  
  Read the book first, but also check out the movie-- I thought it was a pretty good adaptation (makes sense since the book was written by an actor).
  
  (Reviewed 6/14/21)
• 
  Theresa Abney

  "She knows that she needs new friends but introductions are hard to come by when your natural state is shyness." p.4
  
  "However, Jeremy does have one outstanding quality. He likes her. And this quality in a person makes them infinitely interesting to the person being liked." p.8
  
  "She is offering herself to him on the outside chance that he will hold her afterward. She feels very practical about this and vows not to feel bad if things don't work out. After all, she tells herself, she isn't really involved with him emotionally or otherwise." p.14
  
  "It never occurs to Mirabelle to observe herself, and thus she is spared the image of a shy girl sitting alone in a bar on Saturday night. A girl who is willing to give every ounce of herself to someone, who could never betray her lover, who never suspects maliciousness of anyone, and whose sexuality sleeps in her, waiting to be stirred." p.20
  
  "She keeps working to make connections, but the pile of near misses is starting to overwhelm her." p.21
  
  "Mirabelle is not affected by a man's failure to approach her, as her own self-deprecating attitude never allows the idea that he would in the first place." p.27
  
  "I'm not sure what I like; I'm still forming."
• 
  Nikki

  The story wants to be deep. It wants to paint a delicate picture of the world and wow you with its simple truths. It wants to sing straight into your heart, but it doesn't realize that it's tone deaf and, well, stupid. The only thing you can really do is pat it on the head and say, "Poor thing," and then maybe give it a piece of pie because its life will be filled with nothing but disappointment.
• 
  Antigone

  One imagines, easily, that Steve Martin has done some hard time in fine department stores. Perhaps he was with Bernadette Peters or Victoria Tennant, or any of the many beautiful women he's been known to escort around town; afternoon strolls that clearly included revolving doors and escalators, a hint of rich perfume in the air, the light refrain of piped-in piano, and a rack of Armani couture that called to his lady with its siren song. He has been parked, one imagines, several times in one of those lush, over-stuffed chairs reserved for lotharios in his predicament - abandoned with a purse and a coat and a promise this will only take a minute. Though it doesn't take a minute, it never takes a minute, unless it is the proverbial "dog" minute which will prove to be the hefty chunk of an hour.
  
  It isn't long before his eye wanders away from the dressing room door, past the jackets and hats, the mannequins, the tipsy stack of angora sweaters, and off to another department altogether where a lone, lithesome salesgirl stands before a case of evening gloves. And he wonders, one imagines, whether women still wear evening gloves. He cannot remember the last soiree he attended that included such. Oh, but her day must prove tediously uneventful! What sort of girl employs herself thus?
  
  And just as we are doing now, Steve Martin had begun to imagine. He imagined this girl, her day, her life, her slacker boyfriend. He imagined a possible customer; an older man entranced. He imagined a rival, he imagined a lust, he imagined assorted neuroses. And he imagined all of this in winsome ways with elegant internal prose. And it is a story, I suppose, yet it is the story of an author who is diverting himself while in wait for something else. Take up this book and you will wait with him. You will wait through his idle rumination, biding your hours alongside a man who is anticipating the return of a beautiful woman. A woman he will swiftly be forsaking you for.
  
  And who can blame him? She's miles beyond anything he's been able to construct in his afternoon's imagination.
  
  
• 
  Berengaria

  2.5 stars
  
  This novella is like a lump of clay a sculptor has only just started to work.
  
  You can see the very basic form it will take, the pile of ideas and impressions Martin has bundled together...but he simply hasn't added enough contours or detail to any of it yet to let us know if it's going to be a car or an elephant or what exactly.
  
  I'd like to say that's a shame, but I don't think the characters as Martin has conceived of them hold much potential as characters even if he did sculpt more exactly. They are...yeah, just not very interesting, totally non-nuanced, flat-as-pancakes characters with rather generic problems that would need a whole tool kit to make compelling.
  
  An average 2.5 for the grey-brown lump.
• 
  Connie G

  Mirabelle works at a boring job in the dressy glove department at Neiman Marcus, selling a product that few people stop to buy. The shy artistic woman longs for more in her life, and needs to feel loved. But the dating scene in LA is superficial and cutthroat, and she often makes unwise choices. It's hard to believe she is twenty-eight years old since she acts much younger. The novella is bittersweet and darkly humorous as Mirabelle looks for genuine love and happiness.
• 
  Jesse

  Steve Martin is surprisingly adept at prose. A master of the comedic genre, Mr. Martin manages without pretentiousness to imbue the story of a slightly imbalanced shopgirl, Mirabelle, a veritable everyday girl with little to do of anything, with a mirth and understanding that undercuts all of his celebrity and stand-up.
  
  Mirabelle meets both a fledgling creature Jeremy and a middle-aged millionaire Ray Porter. The short novella explores with a flat, unflinching, and sometimes almost dull eye the capture of a woman coming to terms with her sexuality and further her reality. Here, she explores the world of love with an idea that one day she will truly be artistic, and there, Jeremy explores the world of the subconscious with an idea he will learn how to love, and finally, at the end, Ray Porter explores the world of the sexual to find the deviant connection between sex and deeper emotion.
  
  The plot is predictable, certainly. There is this consistent and melancholy touch of the everyday in this everyday book about everyday people, and that is precisely what made Shopgirl so memorable for me... that everyday people, perhaps like myself, or like you, standing at retail counters... even they have stories, and they are worthy, if not less-than-flashy.
• 
  Jessica

  Ack. In his zeal, perhaps, to convince the world
  that he's a serious author, Steve Martin writes a really, really terrible book. Kindly, one might call it spare, modern, zen-like; honestly, one might call it artificial, pretentious, and boring as hell. Its a coming of age novella about one emotionally crippled shopgirl named Mirabelle and her dalliances with a flake named Jeremy and a pompous older guy with the personality of a paper plate, named Ray Porter. Poor, artistic, dumb glove-selling Mirabelle wants someone to love her. Really, she wants her dad to love her, but he obviously doesn't, because he had an affair for seven years with the neighbor. Oh, and he's a Vietnam vet with an old pal mysteriously looking for him. Wait, what? Exactly, my friends.
  
  Honestly, this read like a writing assignment gone wrong: there are bubble gum nipples that can be chewed, a lavender scented snatch...and that's just one minor character (whose entire presence is totally unnecessary, by the way). I mean, at one point, he said the main guy in the book was unknowingly searching for women's "quanta." WTF?
  
  If you love Steve Martin at all, promise me that you won't read this book. Because you'll never look at him the same way again.
• 
  Lea

  I don't like what the book seems to be saying about male and female relationships as a general rule, and sometimes the writing of the female characters was a little iffy, but I enjoyed the story and thought the main interactions were quite believable and even touching.
• 
  Lissa

  I picked up Shopgirl at the Strand for $4.95. I had heard of it vaguely as the movie with Steven Martin in it as an adaptation of the book Steve Martin wrote. I purchased it as a book that I could take with me on vacation and have it be ultimately disposable. Sometimes this trick backfires on me as I end up really liking a book and toting it home with me regardless of my original intentions. This is not one of those times.
  
  Shopgirl tells the story of depressed, artist Mirabelle who works behind the glove counter at Neimann Marcus. She has few friends, doesn’t do much with her art, and is basically wafting through life trying not to get mired in depression. Enter Ray Porter (the Steve Martin character), a 50 year old man also drifting through life, searching for the perfect woman by running through all of the imperfect ones as fast as he can. The two embark on a relationship which predictably ends badly, but also predictably teaches both of them something about themselves and allows them to grow as people and friends.
  
  I didn’t have super high hopes for this book at the outset, having seen another example of Steve Martin’s writing in the play Picasso at the Lapin Agile (a play which starts in a very promising manner and ends with an Elvis impersonator beaming down into a small French café in Monmartre. Really.) Surprisingly, this book is relatively well written and even contains some witty insights on relationships between people. Here are two examples of such passages:
  
  … Jeremy does have one outstanding quality. He likes her. And this quality in a person makes them infinitely interesting to the person who is being liked. (p8)
  
  “I am traveling too much right now,” he says. In this sentence, he serves notice that he would like to come into town, sleep with her, and leave. Mirabelle believe that he is expressing frustration at having to leave town and that he is trying to cut down on traveling. … So now they have had the Conversation. What neither of them understands is that these conversations are meaningless. They are meaningless to the sayer and they meaningless to the hearer. The sayer believes they are heard and the hearer believe that they are never said. (p64-65)
  
  That being said, I couldn’t get past the fact that this book is essentially chick lit. It might be semi-good chick lit (if that isn’t an oxymoron), and it may have been written by a man, but it’s chick-lit nevertheless. It has all of the hallmarks of chick-lit with a little bit of Paulo Coelho style self-discovery – no wonder it was a NYT best seller. I can’t recommend it without reservation, but if you want a short book for a quick plane/train ride, it would certainly do the job.
• 
  Evan

  The eponymous 28-year-old shopgirl of this book, Mirabelle, works in the stultifyingly dull job of selling gloves at Neiman's in Beverly Hills and yearns for love but isn't sure how to go about it, accepting what she can get, including the affections a well-to-do 50-year-old traveling businessman. Even though he should know better, he wants to play both ends against the middle; hurt on all sides is inevitable. There's plenty of arrested development to go around; the 50-year-old knows as little about love and true romance as the 28-year-old. In this book, everyone is learning, and by the end, everyone does learn a lesson, and moves on.
  
  I thought the book was charming. The characters might strike many as thinly defined ciphers; literary constructs more than flesh-and-blood characters. But as the narrative proceeded I didn't find this to be a weakness, because Martin's contemplations on desire and romantic need and the difficulty of sating those in a difficult world I found wise. Martin writes from within a milieu he knows, creating characters that reflect stages of his own life, as a struggling artist and as a success. The world of Beverly Hills phoniness comes in for a wry drubbing.
  
  So, despite this book's limitations, it spoke to me. Sue me.
• 
  Amber

  Mirabelle works as a Glove clerk at the Neiman's department store in the mall in L.A. . While she is fighting off depression and questioning her self-worth, two men pursue and lust after her: a slacker named Jeremy and a rich playboy millionaire named Mr. Ray Porter. Can Mirabelle find out who loves her before she gets hurt? Read on and find out for yourself.
  
  This was the first ever book that I have read by comedian/actor Steve Martin. It was a funny and sad read. One of the parts that made me laugh out loud was When Jeremy tries to have sex with Mirabelle for the first time and her cat jumps onto the bed and starts playing with his balls! LOL. If you like Steve martin, definitely check out this novella book. It is available at your local library and wherever books are sold.
• 
  Lynn

  I remember hearing about this book years ago, and at the time, the reviews were pretty positive. So I picked this up as sale book in iTunes. The more I read, the more disappointed I grew. I kept thinking about the initially good reviews I remembered seeing and being confused. So it was a relief to sign in here and see that the most recent reviewers share my opinion.
  
  The writing style is driven by description, not dialogue. At first I thought this was a stylistic device Martin was using before we are introduced to Ray to make Mirabelle's isolation glaringly obvious. But the style stayed throughout the book, and while at times the prose is elegant, after awhile it just starts to get grating. I grew tired of being told that these people were smart or interesting because someone said they were, I wanted the author to SHOW it to me with dialogue. The only things you learn about the characters come from the narration of the author. And when they do talk, the conversations do not do justice to the supposed merit the characters have.
  
  The writing style can be best summed up by thinking of a director pitching an idea to someone....telling you what the scene looks like, how the people feel, what their personalities are. It doesn't work in novel format. As a skillful actor needs to "sell" a character in a movie, dialogue needs to be skillfully employed to give a fictional character teeth. This is one of the reasons the book falls flat.
  
  I got more and more exasperated by Mirabelle (a ridiculous name, even in fiction) and Ray (a self-professing introspective man-child who deludes himself into not seeing his childish ways.) Mirabelle is pointedly dull and so painful to be around that her own cat hides from her, but we are supposed to believe she's beautiful and unique and interesting, well.....just because. I didn't buy into Ray's complete and utter cluelessness when it comes to women either - not at his age. (Really dude, haven't you watched any tv ever or seen a random romantic comedy?)
  
  As the novel winds down, you realize this is going nowhere, so it's almost a relief when a few quick pages of exposition wrap the whole thing up and tie it in a bow a little too neatly. The re-emergence of a previously deadbeat boyfriend miraculously transformed into a somewhat less neolithic version of himself again smacks of unbelievability and it's kind of insulting at this point. The guy disappears for most of the book and then bam! It's like Martin reached a point where he just wanted it to be over too, and felt a responsibility to give Mirabelle a happy, if implausible, ending. I would have preferred to see Mirabelle distance herself from men altogether until she got herself sorted out. Because that girl needs sorting.
  
  The character of Lisa I think was only introduced to give us some levity when she seduces the wrong person, but this is another character that isn't likable....and the part about her shaving and dipping the razor in the toilet totally grossed me out. What was the purpose in even going there?
  
  The part of the book that really made me roll my eyes is when Ray comes to the realization that his love for Mirabelle is more parental than passionate. We are smacked so hard upside the head with the subplot about Mirabelle's daddy issues that this is a shock to no one, and the fact that he actually had to write this out and explain it just seemed like a lack of confidence on the author's part.
  
  Basically, this was a slow motion trainwreck, but at least it was a quick read.
• 
  nathan

  "𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘻𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴, 𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵."
  
  Waited out on reviewing this after my viewing of the film, hoping it would save the book, but the film only makes the story and themes even WORSE.
  
  Sadly, there is no saving grace to this.
  
  Steven Martin wants to show you he is sensitive, but he comes off as simply man. Too man. White old man. Man of man. To the point where women mean nothing. Objectifying our lead female character with men who think what they’ve done, even the hurt they have caused, was justified, while our shopgirl lays to rot and rest and is expected to move on as quick as the men she fucked.
  
  Will mention that the film does a better job at representing the characters as the novel is subpar in writing. Martin writes his zingers in, light comedic moments to balance out the over-seriousness found in the book. Unfortunately, Steve Martin is too serious in his own writing that it is laughably bad.
  
  Truly awful. But perhaps a good representation of what men thought and felt during the early 2000’s.
• 
  Flora

  Bored, I checked this out of the library one day, and I have to say, I found it surprisingly affecting. It's easy to sneer at Steve Martin for being a lit-pretender, but this wasn't a pretentious book in the least. It's a melancholy (not depressive), wise, and well-drawn portrait of a young woman in a sad, tender, no-strings-attached relationship with a wealthy older man who cares for her, but does not love her, and while this may sound banal, there's something extraordinary about this ability of this quiet little book to inhabit both of these characters -- especially the young woman -- so empathetically.
  
  Honestly, I'd give it four stars except for the distracting make-'em-laugh satiric sketches of L.A., which come off as more apologetic than funny ("oh, all right, I'll throw them a bone..."). The book's rough edges -- occasional awkward prose here, a clunky transition there -- actually endear it to me all the more. Its lack of cynicism feels more risky than a hell of a lot of "approved" literary fiction, and all the more commendable for its disinterest in compensating with cheap sentiment. Its "depth" may be modest, but it's earned.
• 
  Don

  This is a strange little novella and in my opinion kind of wonderful. This is not a comedy, not a novelization of Roxanne or anything like that but rather a more serious take on two lovers, one older, one younger. The story is told in three acts, but little else in this book -- not the characters, not the way events unfold -- feels Hollywoodized.
  
  Martin's narratological approach is refreshing, more Victorian than contemporary. The narrator continually intrudes into the story, explaining each character's unconscious motivations and desires. Done the wrong way, this approach can be grating and impede the story's flow, but it works here. Perhaps it's because the narrator seems like some kindly older man, someone who has gained humility from his own mistakes and loves and cheers for his own flawed creations.
• 
  Kelly

  "Just three months later, it happens to Ray...a 45-year-old woman ...touches his heart and then breaks it flat. It is then Ray's turn to experience Mirabelle's despair, to see its walls and colors. Only then does he realize what he has done to Mirabelle, how wanting a square inch of her and nor all of her has damaged them both."
  
  That's about the best quote I can pick to illustrate what this novel is like. This falls under those quietly heartbreaking pieces that I like. It's not amazing or groundbreaking, but it is good. It's quick, a pretty easy read and well written, and who knew Steve Martin was this touching /and/ intelligent?
• 
  Kathi

  I've had this book sitting on my shelf for years. No reason for never picking it up and reading it other than inertia, lack of being in the right mood, or who knows. But now that I've read it, I love it. It's a small little story of average people who live average lives, but Martin shows a deep insight into the workings of both the male and female mind. He delves into the juxtaposition of how a relationship looks from the male side and the female side, which are far different perspectives, and he does so frankly, so honestly, that it feels like a conversation with your best friends over dinner, after a few too many drinks, when all the barriers come down and we can finally be completely, totally, unashamedly, honest with both our friends and ourselves.
  
  "Shopgirl" isn't a love story, although there is love within its covers. It's more of a life story. It's about personal growth. It's about how we fail each other even while we try to help. It's about how what we think we want is seldom what we truly need.
  
  Martin is as gifted a writer as he is a comedian and actor. His range is astounding. His humor is sometimes obvious but more often subtle, more so than I would expect after a lifetime of seeing him on various stages. Most of all, Martin is human and it is his humanity which reaches through the pages of this novel and touches the humanity in me.
  
  Read this book. You won't regret it.
• 
  Laura Gembolis

  It's a story about loneliness. The people are pretty messed up and the environment (Los Angeles) is straight up consumerism at it's worse. And despite the loneliness and the crass consumerism, the characters still strive for connections.
• 
  Lynx

  I was in absolute awe while reading this at Steve Martins beautifully written prose and at how well he captured not one but two extremely different types of women. I cannot recommend this novella enough. Excuse me while I go search for his other books...
• 
  Diane

  This book was a surprise to me, loaned for on-the-plane reading after I'd finished the book I'd brought on the trip.
  
  I had low expectations of the writing and the story. Both were pleasant surprises. Written in almost elegant prose, the characters in their small lives unfold. Vignettes of their lives are neat and complete, stacking on top of and inside one another, until the chain of experiences moves each character to a different place. It may seem insignificant or that the characters just drift, but isn't that a lot like life? We may want each moment, each choice to be significant and important, but it's the everyday journey that has significance and the places it takes us that have significance.
  
  Mirabelle, the shopgirl with a history of depression and small artistic talent whose triumph is getting through each day, is likeable because she doesn't wallow. She wants to be someone to somebody. Ray, the older man who pursues her, disappoints and hurts her and stays part of her life afterward, is lost, generous and clueless. And Jeremy grows up without ever knowing how much of a loser he was.
• 
  Rebecca

  I re-read this during the snowstorm and liked it almost as much as the first time. I have not seen the movie, because it can't be as good as the book. I have not written down any favorite quotes, because I would have basically been transcribing the book. The novella is short and the story is quiet, with only three (maybe four) main characters. I've probably never identified with an adult character as much as I do Mirabelle (even though she suffers from clinical depression and I do not). How Steve Martin can be so convincingly inside the head of a 28-year-old female, I will never know. But if you are like the bookstore clerk who rang up this book for me, you are in for a surprise if you see the author's name and say "Oh, I loved the movie Bowfinger!" This is a different species. Lovely book, one of my all-time favorites.
• 
  Tina Rae

  How can a movie that seemed so horrible and so sad be such an amazing book when the novel and screen play were written by the same person? Shouldn't they be, i don't know.. the same? It just doesn't make sense. Anyway, this was a wonderful book. Yes, it made me cry just as much as the movie did but the book was just so much better. The book leaves you more at peace with the ending. The movie just throws the ending at you and expects you to accept it. Thankfully, my favorite movie line was in the book though it wasn't all together. Steve Martin is an amazing and very vivid author. His style is fantastic. Though his many, many cuss words (which quite shocked me considering the author) I could've lived without. All in all, this novel is a very good read. It's a very moving story that really shows you how love affects the minds of both parties.
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  Kerry

  I wasn't ready to leave Steve Martin so I thought I'd listen to a novella he wrote years ago that was later made into a movie I liked. It is a love story, part coming of age store about a young woman who works at a glove counter in Niemans in L.A. She mets two men one older, one younger and the relationships that develop.
  
  Two questions that came to me while reading: Are older man better at pursuit? Do we all have something to learn in relationships about who we are first and maybe who we with others?
  
  While the main character is a woman, I felt this book was more about the men in it, who seem to grow and change while the woman stays the same.
  
  Read by Steve Martin it is a spare, interesting book that was enjoyable, and made me think and easily devoured in a day.