I'm No Saint: A Nasty Little Memoir of Love and Leaving

by Elizabeth Hayt

Recounts how the author, overwhelmed by responsibilities in her marriage and her role as a mother, was set adrift by her unexpected divorce, an event that triggered steamy relationships with a series of high-powered men and brought her into a new sense of her identity. 75,000 first printing.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction

304 pages, Hardcover

First published October 3, 2005

Reviews

[Laura Ruetz · Rating 1 out of 5]

I picked this book up from a bargain table. From the inside jacket, it looked promising because it says that "Hayt redefines the expectations of contemporary womanhood while reinvigorating sexual awakening for a new generation." Sounds interesting, so I bought it. What I got was a book that read like a pity party for the author.

Her entire life was blamed on external forces and she fails to take any responsibility. Sexual awakening? No, she was just somebody who used sex as means to an end. The book was more raunchy for the sake of being raunchy than to deal with any sexual awakening. Normally, with a book of this type, you see some sort of character growth or change of awareness. Nope, not with this book. Chapter after chapter of whining right up until the second to last page. The change in awareness is summed up in a half page at the end. I found very little about this book enjoyable.

[Annie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm No Saint is a dirty yet hilarious guilty pleasure; Ms. Hayt's personal memoir of loving, leaving and self implosion. Hayt is a complete mess and her story is a straight line between big break-ups and personal reinvention.

[Monica · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked it. Granted, Ms. Hayt is not a very likable character (she strikes me as self-absorbed, vain, and materialistic), but I appreciated her frankness and honesty regarding sex, difficulties with motherhood, drug addiction, etc.

[Sarafina Kain · Rating 3 out of 5]

It was ok.
I enjoyed the bluntness & the way it was written. Though, I felt like I was losing interest about 1/2 way though when it went to "name dropping" without name dropping & basically just circled around to her becoming her mother.

[Melissa (Always Behind) · Rating 2 out of 5]

Elizabeth Hayt never wanted to conform to the life everyone desired for her. She reluctantly took the plunge into marriage and motherhood, all the while seeking more. Her up-front memoir, I'm No Saint: A Nasty Little Memoir of Love and Leaving is an interesting yet fractured look at a woman living on the edge of trouble.

Hayt talks about her childhood, and even then signs of heading down the slippery slope were there: sexual activity combined with drug use in response to parents who were both controlling (in the case of her father) and mentally ill/emotionally overcompensating (her mother). Hayt never apologizes for her activities and even offers up appropriate explanations for her actions (no male role model, clingy mother). All through the pages of I'm No Saint, we live through her eating disorders, drug and sexual addictions, and the final move toward recovery.

Unfortunately, the one who suffered most during (and probably after) Hayt’s experiences was her son. She decided (yes, everything she did was a self-indulgent decision, in my opinion) to basically abandon her son to be raised by a babysitter because he was difficult. This left Hayt free to indulge herself sexually and with drugs. And the extent of her drug use is kept a secret through most of the memoir, even from the reader.

Although I'm No Saint does ring true, I was ultimately left wondering what the point of the book really was. The ending is very abrupt and doesn’t give a sense of a completed story. I think the author wrote the book hoping for a happy ending, but it didn’t work out the way she had planned. However, that was the story of much of her life, so I suppose it’s a fitting ending. Many troubling issues, as mentioned above, are detailed in the pages of I'm No Saint. This is not a book for readers looking for a clean-cut redemption story. It’s brutally honest but also brutally transparent and graphic. There’s not much joy to be found in these pages. The pervasive mood is sadness, and Hayt doesn’t really experience any joy, even at the conclusion.

[Cinthia Ritchie · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm not sure what to think of this book. Parts were quite engrossing. Mostly, though, I had a difficult time warming up to Hayt. I wasn't on her side, and since this is a memoir, it's essential that readers align themselves with the author/narrator. We don't have to like her but we do have to understand her.
I didn't understand Hayt. I didn't understand her lifestyle or her choices and, truthfully, it often felt as if she were throwing situations more for impact than truth. Is the narrative running dry? Let's throw in a few sex scenes (in one scene she describes her, um, privates in loving detail, a scene this reader could have done without). Not sure where the plot is heading? Let's throw in a cocaine addiction.
Granted, perhaps all of these things did happen to Hayt. Most likely, they did. Yet they often rang false in the writing, almost as if Hayt were hiding her real self behind the safe mask of a false voice.
I also didn't particularly care for how Hayt kept throwing around designer names. (No, Elizabeth, we don't have to know what you are wearing or who designed what you are wearing. Frankly, most of us don't care.)
Don't get me wrong: I love a good, sexy memoir. But sex, as with humor, needs to be written carefully and for the right reasons (and not to simply titillate the readers).
That said, there are good things contained inside "I'm No Saint." The storyline is comforting and familiar: Divorced woman with child trying to make it without a man in a man's world, and I can see the appeal for certain readers. For it reads fast, contains sex scenes and talks quite frankly of sex and sexual dynamics.
Myself? I'd rather go back and re-read Erica Jong's "Fear of Flying."
Recommended as a light read for those interested in sexual situations, male-female dating dynamics and the New York scene.

[Jan Rabie · Rating 3 out of 5]

I found the book fairly interesting and the fact is, Elizabeth is a good writer – no doubt. However, I finished it with overwhelming sense of pity for this poor woman who tries soooo hard to find real love but just doesn’t. Sex isn’t necessarily love and we all know it. Perhaps being narcissistically preoccupied with her own desires 24/7 has something to do with her unhappiness. To take one example, she had a husband but at the time he was career building for the sake of their future. Because she sat alone at home being bored, she started having an affair with a student. She doesn’t get my sympathy though. After all, some of the happiest people in life are not those who have it all, but those who try to make the best of what they do have. In the end I hoped she and her ex would get together again but after editing her book, I understand his reluctance. The story does give insight into a world which I know very little of i.e. the fast lane, rich, jet setting crowd of New York and I am amazed how people can just use and abuse each other without having any scruples about it (like the art dealer in the story). I guess if you jump into bed with so many people you kind of feel like a washed out, second hand rug after a few years and the warning in the book is valuable. But let’s face it, the graphic depiction of her sexual encounters is kinky and interesting and without it, most male readers like me would have put the book down by pg 10.

[Rachel · Rating 2 out of 5]

I felt like I was supposed to be shocked and scandalized but I really just ended up feeling a mixture of pity and resignation. She seemed more depressed and desperately seeking comfort than anything else; she doesn't even seem to enjoy her relationships with these troubled men. She was so busy focusing on what they want and hoping she gets whatever they have left to give that she came across as lost, not adventurous. I think she wanted to come across as a free spirit who was up for anything but instead she seemed like a sad, insecure woman.

I also can't imagine her behavior and drug addiction had as little effect on her child as she seems to think.

[Mike · Rating 2 out of 5]

Nasty is right. This spoiled JAP, a term with which she refers to herself, spins a pretty graphic tale of her sexploits while trying to cope with her inability to do anything else. Like Lit, she finds a man, had a kid, loses her man, becomes hooked on cocaine, becomes a writer, then reconnects with her man. I'm so glad I read this because it's an excellent example of the memoir gone self focused. It's hard to write a memoir and not whine about yourself or just simply feel sorry for yourself in print. Sadly, Hayt, isn't able to do it. She's a fine writer, the writing was enjoyable. The subject much less so.

[Vivienne · Rating 4 out of 5]

I feel like a voyeur. Great writing, good hooks and nice sense of timing. Very entertaining but a bit too intimate. I love Elizabeth Hayt's articles in Elle, which are often quite personal, but sometimes this memoir was too much information for me.

[Elizabeth · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really fun read.

[G-- · Rating 1 out of 5]

Cheap. No Substance. No wit. No sparkle.

[Krysia · Rating 2 out of 5]

Reader as voyeur reading the dirty little secrets of a woman who can be called a lost Desperate Housewife of Manhattan.

[Jenine Young · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pretty funny book, read like a gossip magazine. The ending surprised me. I think most women can relate to some point or another of this book.

[Rainylrclark · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book wasn't bad, it was quite blunt.