Julie Powell got bad press by Julia Child as the cooking queen proclaimed she thought Julie’s blog, which chronicled her efforts to cook her way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking a stunt. I have to admit that Julia’s comments and my own jealously over her getting a book deal while I struggle to get readers tainted my view of her blog and made me reluctant to get sucked into all the hype over Julia and Julie. Add to that the reviews that said Julia’s portions of the movie were amazing while Julie’s portions weren’t up to par had me convinced that the movie wasn’t worth a trip to the video store.
I broke down and rented the movie when I found it in a RedBox for $1 and my opinion completely changed once I watched the movie as I realized that Julie didn’t start out intending to get rich from her blog, she started it for the same reason a lot of us start blogs: as a way to share our lives and to write about what we want to write about instead of what corporate slugs want us to waste our words on. At the time, her life was extra stressful as she was working for an agency that handled calls from 9/11 victims. Cooking and blogging let her escape from the pressure cooker every evening, gave her something to look forward to, and gave her a way to stay on track. Did she harbor dreams of striking it rich with her blog? I can’t say, but if she did she wouldn’t be alone as deep down all of us want our blogs to be recognized for the amazing works of literature they are.
Having read Julia’s memoir, My Life in France, just a few weeks ago, I was expectedly nervous about how the big screen version would compare to the printed page and, surprisingly enough, I wasn’t disappointed. Meryl Street’s portrayal was as true to the book as you can get in a 2 hour movie. I felt her humanity and her passion jump off the screen and into my heart and left the theater feeling ready to go search for some grainy television footage of Julia’s famous cooking shows.
I haven’t read Julie’s book so I don’t have anything to compare it to, but I found myself rooting for her as I watched the show. She came across as someone who started the grand adventure to cook all of Julia’s recipes in a year as a way to prove to herself that she could start and finish something. It’s funny because at the start of the movie, her mom calls her and tells her that she’s in over her head and that she should just quit. Mom chimes in again toward the middle of the movie and tells her that she should finish what she started. It’s moments like this that ground the movie in real life and make Julie seem like the girl next door.
Other moments hit home for me too especially the honesty in her husband’s voice as he told her that he regretted suggesting the blog and that since she started it she’d been self absorbed and it was all about “me, me, me.” Unfortunately, my hubby has also told me that I’m somewhat self absorbed in my blog and that it was all about “me, me, me.” Hmm..maybe that’s a theme with bloggers we write about the things that are closest to our hearts. Our blogs are a way of communicating and sharing who we are.
After watching the movie, I searched out Julie’s blog and in its pages, I found the same honesty that pervaded the movie. Her blog was a way for her to share herself and her life with the world. Did she get excited about having followers and having the New York Times come calling? Of course she did, every writer in the world gets excited about the thought that someone out there is reading what they wrote and cares enough about it to comment on it. My deepest dream is that someday I’ll write a script about finding my bliss and people will watch it and something will resonate deep within them. That’s the bliss of writing, it’s about touching other people’s lives with your words and, hopefully, helping them understand you and themselves just a little bit better.
Now as to the self absorbed comments, I am going to try to include some posts this year about things you can to do find your bliss.
Until next time, Bon Appetit (okay, I couldn’t resist).
Cairn by Cairn 