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Take the Cannoli: Stories from the New World
Excellent Book
219 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2000
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About the author
Sarah Vowell
18 books3,166 followersSarah Jane Vowell (MA, Art History, School of the Art Institute of Chicago, 1999; BA, Modern Languages and Literature, Montana State University, 1993) is a historian, journalist, essayist, social commentator, and actress. She has written seven nonfiction books on American history and culture. Vowell was a contributing editor for the radio program This American Life on Public Radio International from 1996 to 2008, where she produced numerous commentaries and documentaries. She was also the voice of the teenage superhero Violet Parr in the 2004 animated film The Incredibles and its 2018 sequel.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 833 reviews
March 21, 2017
Sarah Vowell has found a certain niche now and it's likely her books going forward won't stray too far (not necessarily a bad thing) but we all start out once, and so there you go.
This is her second book, and is a collection of pieces she wrote for various publishers and the like. So, topics are pretty random- The Godfather movie, Frank Sinatra, the goth scene, Walt Disney World, the Chelsea Hotel, Andrew Jackson and the Trail of Tears. Indeed, all over the place. At heart, the stories are often drawn by the dichotomies of her being outspokenly liberal and having a very Conservative father and family, and also living in Montana.
To me, this makes for a great book. I am well acquainted with Vowell's work and for me, this is a book I read quickly, enjoyed all the way through and will most likely read again. To me, I really enjoy her observations, and sometimes this book is just plain fun, and sometimes it tries to make a point- whether it is heavy like the Trail of Tears piece or at least gets stuck in your mind like the questions of suffering for art brought by the Chelsea Hotel piece.
I suspect most people who would be interested in Vowell likely have their minds made up about her, and she wears her politics on her sleeve, so any cursory reading of her reviews will show that her rating dips among those who might disagree with her politically.
Otherwise, I certainly recommend it. Fun fact, I suspect it is because of my location, but this is yet another book I found for near nothing that is signed by the author (and has the flyer from the reading). I probably enjoy that more than I should, knowing I have the signed book, and it made its way to me.
This is her second book, and is a collection of pieces she wrote for various publishers and the like. So, topics are pretty random- The Godfather movie, Frank Sinatra, the goth scene, Walt Disney World, the Chelsea Hotel, Andrew Jackson and the Trail of Tears. Indeed, all over the place. At heart, the stories are often drawn by the dichotomies of her being outspokenly liberal and having a very Conservative father and family, and also living in Montana.
To me, this makes for a great book. I am well acquainted with Vowell's work and for me, this is a book I read quickly, enjoyed all the way through and will most likely read again. To me, I really enjoy her observations, and sometimes this book is just plain fun, and sometimes it tries to make a point- whether it is heavy like the Trail of Tears piece or at least gets stuck in your mind like the questions of suffering for art brought by the Chelsea Hotel piece.
I suspect most people who would be interested in Vowell likely have their minds made up about her, and she wears her politics on her sleeve, so any cursory reading of her reviews will show that her rating dips among those who might disagree with her politically.
Otherwise, I certainly recommend it. Fun fact, I suspect it is because of my location, but this is yet another book I found for near nothing that is signed by the author (and has the flyer from the reading). I probably enjoy that more than I should, knowing I have the signed book, and it made its way to me.
August 27, 2017
I really enjoyed this collection of essays from Sarah Vowell's travels and experiences. Her way of writing nonfiction is very entertaining but still manages to be educational. It's a fun mix. :-)
This book was divided into four sections: Home Movies seemed to be mostly Sarah's recollections of her own American life in her growing up years through to Y2K. So...interesting, but not necessarily educational. (It was educational, though, if you're the type who is interested in seeing how others live through similar times.)
Post Cards gave me a line I really identified with in the essay entitled "Vindictively American." Sarah was studying abroad and in one of her orientation seminars, her group was asked, " 'What would you do if you were abroad and some foreigners came up to you and expressed anti-American sentiment?' 'Agree with them,' [Sarah] said."
I felt the same when I lived in Russia once upon a time (in the mid-90s). The last thing I wanted to be identified as was an American. Americans were seen as loud, obnoxious, wealthy (and, sadly, the American tourists I saw in "my" town sure fit this stereotype)... I enjoy being American when I'm in America. When I was in Siberia, I wanted to be Russian and then later when I was in Prague, I wanted to be Czech (however, as this exchange happened after my time in Russia, I never really achieved "Czech-ness;" I was a pretty convincing Russian, though!). I immersed myself in the cultures of the places I found myself and most all of those things that were American about me fell by the wayside.
Anyway, moving on...
Post Cards also gave us our first truly educational history essays. I enjoyed reading and learning about the Chelsea Hotel (and its denizens) in New York in "Chelsea Girl" and "Michigan and Wacker" was a super interesting essay about the history of Chicago.
The next section, Obituaries, was rather heartbreaking because it included an essay about the Trail of Tears and Sarah's modern journey across it with her twin sister ("What I See When I Look at the Face on the $20 Bill"). This is the essay that made me cry. "Just as our blood will never be pure, the Trail of Tears will never make sense." :'( "Ixnay on the My Way" followed -- a short essay about Frank Sinatra's death and songs.
Then the final section, Mix Tapes, mostly seemed to me to again be about Sarah's experiences with certain aspects of American culture (like driving and goths).
As I'm a fan of Sarah Vowell's writing, there were several lines in this book that made me laugh. They can be found in the first, second, and final sections. I'll share just one from each section (the underlined bits are my emphasis to show what made me laugh about each of the long quotes):
Home Movies
Sarah was in an antinuclear group when she was in high school: "My biggest contribution was probably representing the group in a roundtable discussion on the local public television channel; the adults said a few mundane things about a saner nuclear policy before I started screaming, 'You got to grow up! Do you know what it's like to think you're not going to grow up? Do you?' Why the station manager didn't immediately grasp my broadcasting potential then and there based on my nuanced, articulate approach and offer me my own show remains a mystery." (From page 45 in "The End is Near, Nearer, Nearest.") lol ;-)
Post Cards
In "These Little Town Blues," Sarah is in Hoboken, New Jersey, absorbing the culture to be found in Frank Sinatra's birthplace. On pages 72-73, we have these lines about New Jersey: "This is the state Paterson native Ginsberg called 'nowhere Zen New Jersey'; the place Freehold homeboy Springsteen referred to as a 'dump'; the place South Jerseyan Smith described in her song 'Piss Factory'; the place, it is said, that even Sinatra has called a 'sewer.' Or, as my guidebook puts it, the state 'has a superb interstate highway system for a reason.' " lol!!! :-)
Mix Tapes
"Drive Through, Please" is about Sarah finally learning to drive at the age of about 28: "When someone asks me why I don't drive, I usually say that my sister drives. Which sounds a little loony. But my sister, Amy, and I are twins. . . . The advantage is that twins share responsibilities. There is little or no pressure to become a whole person, which creates a very clear, very liberating division of labor. I did the indoor things, she did the outdoor ones. She learned to ride a bike before I did. I learned to read before she did. She owns at least three pairs of skis. I own at least three brands of bourbon. Driving was her jurisdiction. Criticizing her driving was mine." lol!!! :-)
In closing, I really enjoyed this book. I'm not sure I'm taking away anything from the educational bits, but it did make me reaffirm my love for Sarah Vowell's writing style and rekindled my interest in reading others of her works. :-)
This book was divided into four sections: Home Movies seemed to be mostly Sarah's recollections of her own American life in her growing up years through to Y2K. So...interesting, but not necessarily educational. (It was educational, though, if you're the type who is interested in seeing how others live through similar times.)
Post Cards gave me a line I really identified with in the essay entitled "Vindictively American." Sarah was studying abroad and in one of her orientation seminars, her group was asked, " 'What would you do if you were abroad and some foreigners came up to you and expressed anti-American sentiment?' 'Agree with them,' [Sarah] said."
I felt the same when I lived in Russia once upon a time (in the mid-90s). The last thing I wanted to be identified as was an American. Americans were seen as loud, obnoxious, wealthy (and, sadly, the American tourists I saw in "my" town sure fit this stereotype)... I enjoy being American when I'm in America. When I was in Siberia, I wanted to be Russian and then later when I was in Prague, I wanted to be Czech (however, as this exchange happened after my time in Russia, I never really achieved "Czech-ness;" I was a pretty convincing Russian, though!). I immersed myself in the cultures of the places I found myself and most all of those things that were American about me fell by the wayside.
Anyway, moving on...
Post Cards also gave us our first truly educational history essays. I enjoyed reading and learning about the Chelsea Hotel (and its denizens) in New York in "Chelsea Girl" and "Michigan and Wacker" was a super interesting essay about the history of Chicago.
The next section, Obituaries, was rather heartbreaking because it included an essay about the Trail of Tears and Sarah's modern journey across it with her twin sister ("What I See When I Look at the Face on the $20 Bill"). This is the essay that made me cry. "Just as our blood will never be pure, the Trail of Tears will never make sense." :'( "Ixnay on the My Way" followed -- a short essay about Frank Sinatra's death and songs.
Then the final section, Mix Tapes, mostly seemed to me to again be about Sarah's experiences with certain aspects of American culture (like driving and goths).
As I'm a fan of Sarah Vowell's writing, there were several lines in this book that made me laugh. They can be found in the first, second, and final sections. I'll share just one from each section (the underlined bits are my emphasis to show what made me laugh about each of the long quotes):
Home Movies
Sarah was in an antinuclear group when she was in high school: "My biggest contribution was probably representing the group in a roundtable discussion on the local public television channel; the adults said a few mundane things about a saner nuclear policy before I started screaming, 'You got to grow up! Do you know what it's like to think you're not going to grow up? Do you?' Why the station manager didn't immediately grasp my broadcasting potential then and there based on my nuanced, articulate approach and offer me my own show remains a mystery." (From page 45 in "The End is Near, Nearer, Nearest.") lol ;-)
Post Cards
In "These Little Town Blues," Sarah is in Hoboken, New Jersey, absorbing the culture to be found in Frank Sinatra's birthplace. On pages 72-73, we have these lines about New Jersey: "This is the state Paterson native Ginsberg called 'nowhere Zen New Jersey'; the place Freehold homeboy Springsteen referred to as a 'dump'; the place South Jerseyan Smith described in her song 'Piss Factory'; the place, it is said, that even Sinatra has called a 'sewer.' Or, as my guidebook puts it, the state 'has a superb interstate highway system for a reason.' " lol!!! :-)
Mix Tapes
"Drive Through, Please" is about Sarah finally learning to drive at the age of about 28: "When someone asks me why I don't drive, I usually say that my sister drives. Which sounds a little loony. But my sister, Amy, and I are twins. . . . The advantage is that twins share responsibilities. There is little or no pressure to become a whole person, which creates a very clear, very liberating division of labor. I did the indoor things, she did the outdoor ones. She learned to ride a bike before I did. I learned to read before she did. She owns at least three pairs of skis. I own at least three brands of bourbon. Driving was her jurisdiction. Criticizing her driving was mine." lol!!! :-)
In closing, I really enjoyed this book. I'm not sure I'm taking away anything from the educational bits, but it did make me reaffirm my love for Sarah Vowell's writing style and rekindled my interest in reading others of her works. :-)
December 22, 2008
i wanted to like this book better than i liked it. at the end of the day, i like sarah vowell's writing: it's funny & engaging, it's smart & self-deprecating & informative. but there's so much strangely blind patriotism in here. yeah, it comes from a liberal perspective, what with vowell being all over NPR & being really critical of the bush administration & everything, but there's so much of, "if we could just fix these huge glaring problems with the government, this country would be awesome!" & i think that's really naive & short-sighted. probably the piece in here that bothered me the most was the one about andrew jackson & the trail of tears. vowell is all, "i am part native american, so i wanted to travel the trail of tears like my ancestors did." i mean, right off the bat, the whole concept was grating on me in a way i just can't quote explain. she gets into the whole history of the cherokee nation being pretty inspired by the new u.s. government & copying a lot of their ideas & starting a newspaper & a written language & all this shit that other indian tribes hadn't really thought about doing before, & how the cherokee people were supposed to be considered a sovereign nation within the boundaries of the u.s., but a lot of white settlers wanted them to move off their land so the white people could claim it for farms & such forth, & a few tribe members who felt their eviction was inevitable anyway went ahead & signed a treaty with jackson & agreed that everyone would clear out. when the tribe failed to meet the deadline set down in the treaty (because the overwhelming majority of the tribe was totally opposed to the treaty), they were forced into stockades & set out on the six-month march along the trail of tears, which vowell drove with her sister, stopping at indian- & jackson-themed landmarks along the way. the whole thing...it seemed a little bit histrionic. not that the trail of tears wasn't a barbaric thing, but i couldn't help but feel that some of vowell's rage was a little bit appropriative. it just struck a sour note with me, as does much of her "rah rah america" crap. i'm into the whole concept of exploring the seedy underbelly of american history, peeling up the carpet & seeing where the roaches run, etc, but there was something just a touch insincere about this book. i'm still working it out in my head.
December 4, 2013
Sarah Vowell takes you with her on a series of adventures, challenges and bizarre dares. She is a modern day Huck Finn with a glass of scotch in her right hand and a biography of Andrew Jackson in the left. From shooting off cannons, learning to make a non sentimental mix tapes, to the bizarre not so wonderful world of Disney, learning to drive with Ira Glass, to going Goth for a night, to her obsession with The Godfather, she doesn't hold back and I love her for it.
The chapter "What I See When I Look at the Face on the 20 Dollar Bill" was one of my favorites, in which she follows the Trail of Tears of the Cherokee Nation. A story of American genocide and unrequited bravery, it is truly suspenseful and heartbreaking. When Sarah visits the Nashville home of Andrew Jackson who went against his word and caused so many to die so long ago, Sarah cannot forgive him. She reads a quote by President Jackson aloud to the guide who gives her the tour of his grave and tries to find understanding and peace. I love that Vowell, while laying hard into the evils and arrogance of a country that took away the land of the Cherokees, acknowledges her part in the America that caused so many to die.
Vowell never lets you forget for a moment that she loves/hates America and explains why every step of the way. She is so frighteningly smart and self-deprecatingly hilarious, it is no wonder she can count David Sedaris and Nick Hornby among her list of friends.
To me this book is like a late night conversation with a good friend after too much red wine and too little sleep. It is a delicious mix of booze and coffee and Elvis and wisdom and pain and acceptance, Italy, and understanding, insomnia, religion, Sinatra, confusion, band uniforms, death, Burger King, and love. She takes the Cannoli.
The chapter "What I See When I Look at the Face on the 20 Dollar Bill" was one of my favorites, in which she follows the Trail of Tears of the Cherokee Nation. A story of American genocide and unrequited bravery, it is truly suspenseful and heartbreaking. When Sarah visits the Nashville home of Andrew Jackson who went against his word and caused so many to die so long ago, Sarah cannot forgive him. She reads a quote by President Jackson aloud to the guide who gives her the tour of his grave and tries to find understanding and peace. I love that Vowell, while laying hard into the evils and arrogance of a country that took away the land of the Cherokees, acknowledges her part in the America that caused so many to die.
Vowell never lets you forget for a moment that she loves/hates America and explains why every step of the way. She is so frighteningly smart and self-deprecatingly hilarious, it is no wonder she can count David Sedaris and Nick Hornby among her list of friends.
To me this book is like a late night conversation with a good friend after too much red wine and too little sleep. It is a delicious mix of booze and coffee and Elvis and wisdom and pain and acceptance, Italy, and understanding, insomnia, religion, Sinatra, confusion, band uniforms, death, Burger King, and love. She takes the Cannoli.
September 22, 2015
Sarah Vowell is funny in a low-key way. For example, she writes that her father loves guns so much he makes them for a living, and she drops this bit of information in with men she dates so that when the end inevitably comes, they’ll dump her in a respectful manner. She writes about serious historical events like the Trail of Tears to light subjects like being terrorized by her UPS man because she works from home. This is funny and educational.
Read
March 18, 2019Great, funny essays (I do love essays).
May 6, 2011
Sarah Vowell is both smart and smart ass -- if you've seen Jon Stewart interview her on The Daily Show, you know she does more than hold her own. She's a curious amalgam: she writes for NPR and yet revels in her "white trash" background.
All in all, Take the Cannoli is a very uneven collection of stories, which comes with the territory with a writer like Vowell. To grossly oversimplify, her style is to take whatever happens to be going on in her life or her mind at the moment and then whip it into a story. It's not quite stream of consciousness so much as stream of life. Sometimes that's interesting, sometimes not.
Some of her stories: She goes to Disney World with her gay New Yorker friend. She learns to drive (with Ira Glass). She steps out of her introvert comfort zone to go through a goth makeover to check out the club scene in San Francisco. Which leads to what may be one of her best lines in this book: "By the time they're done cinching up the corset and stabilizing my bustle, I'm in so many layers of black lace scarves and fringe and fishnet stockings that I could play strip poker for three weeks without baring my belly button". Counterbalancing stories like that are those about Frank Sinatra -- she includes TWO stories about him in this collection. Frank Sinatra???
One of the most moving of her stories is "Take the Cannoli" (from which the book also takes its title) where she talks about her guilty, compulsive watching of The Godfather in her college years, as she struggles with her loss of religious faith and seeks comfort in the moral certainties of Sicilian mafia family values. (Religion can really mess you up). The line is from the Godfather, where the gunman says to a fellow mafioso after killing someone: "Leave the gun. Take the cannoli." I think that's supposed to encapsulate a philosophy of life.
In "The End is Near, Nearer, Nearest", she talks about growing up with religion, Oklahoma-style: fire and brimstone, Armageddon and sin. So, naturally, near the end of the 1990's, she just had to go to a Y2K seminar, the Apocalyptic message of which was all too familiar to her from her fundamentalist upbringing. The difference was that by now she was no longer a child and could actually consciously reject that nonsense and understand why she was doing so. In that story is my favorite passage of the whole book:
"Heaven such as it is, is right here on earth. Behold: my revelation: I stand at the door in the morning, and lo, there is a newspaper, in sight like unto an emerald. And holy, holy, holy is the coffee, which was, and is, and is to come. And hark, I hear the voice of an angel round about the radio, saying, "Since my baby left me I found a new place to dwell." And lo, after this I beheld a great multitude, which no man could number, of shoes. And after these things I will hasten unto a taxicab and to a theater, where a ticket will be given unto me, and lo, it will be a matinee, and a film that doeth great wonders. And when it is finished, the heavens will open, and out will cometh a rain fragrant as myrrh, and yea, I have an umbrella".
As long as you skip the Sinatra stories and anything else that doesn't grab you in the first couple of pages, you'll enjoy this book. It's kind of narcissistic, but if you like the author's point of view, that's OK.
All in all, Take the Cannoli is a very uneven collection of stories, which comes with the territory with a writer like Vowell. To grossly oversimplify, her style is to take whatever happens to be going on in her life or her mind at the moment and then whip it into a story. It's not quite stream of consciousness so much as stream of life. Sometimes that's interesting, sometimes not.
Some of her stories: She goes to Disney World with her gay New Yorker friend. She learns to drive (with Ira Glass). She steps out of her introvert comfort zone to go through a goth makeover to check out the club scene in San Francisco. Which leads to what may be one of her best lines in this book: "By the time they're done cinching up the corset and stabilizing my bustle, I'm in so many layers of black lace scarves and fringe and fishnet stockings that I could play strip poker for three weeks without baring my belly button". Counterbalancing stories like that are those about Frank Sinatra -- she includes TWO stories about him in this collection. Frank Sinatra???
One of the most moving of her stories is "Take the Cannoli" (from which the book also takes its title) where she talks about her guilty, compulsive watching of The Godfather in her college years, as she struggles with her loss of religious faith and seeks comfort in the moral certainties of Sicilian mafia family values. (Religion can really mess you up). The line is from the Godfather, where the gunman says to a fellow mafioso after killing someone: "Leave the gun. Take the cannoli." I think that's supposed to encapsulate a philosophy of life.
In "The End is Near, Nearer, Nearest", she talks about growing up with religion, Oklahoma-style: fire and brimstone, Armageddon and sin. So, naturally, near the end of the 1990's, she just had to go to a Y2K seminar, the Apocalyptic message of which was all too familiar to her from her fundamentalist upbringing. The difference was that by now she was no longer a child and could actually consciously reject that nonsense and understand why she was doing so. In that story is my favorite passage of the whole book:
"Heaven such as it is, is right here on earth. Behold: my revelation: I stand at the door in the morning, and lo, there is a newspaper, in sight like unto an emerald. And holy, holy, holy is the coffee, which was, and is, and is to come. And hark, I hear the voice of an angel round about the radio, saying, "Since my baby left me I found a new place to dwell." And lo, after this I beheld a great multitude, which no man could number, of shoes. And after these things I will hasten unto a taxicab and to a theater, where a ticket will be given unto me, and lo, it will be a matinee, and a film that doeth great wonders. And when it is finished, the heavens will open, and out will cometh a rain fragrant as myrrh, and yea, I have an umbrella".
As long as you skip the Sinatra stories and anything else that doesn't grab you in the first couple of pages, you'll enjoy this book. It's kind of narcissistic, but if you like the author's point of view, that's OK.
January 14, 2009
I have heard wonderful things about Sarah Vowell, and I thought she would be great because she was funny on Gigantic, that documentary about They Might Be Giants. I’ve never heard her on This American Life, but Ira Glass and This American Life are great, so I bet she is, too. But I didn’t like her book. I must admit, toward the end I left huge chunks unread. I’d, like, get to a boring chapter and think “aw, hell no. Next!” and I’d start reading the next one and pretty much be equally disappointed.
I was excited for about ten seconds when I saw the chapter that started “I am standing on Disney World’s Main Street, U.S.A…” but ended up just getting pissed. Of course, she must explain how it’s a TOTAL ACCIDENT that she ended up there (because she is actually above Disney World), makes fun of pretty much everything (like, the fact that the waiters dressed in Revolutionary War-Era clothes have to wear black sneakers? Who gives a shit?) Honestly, I have witnessed it all. There is plenty to make fun of in Disney World, but Vowell instead seemed appalled by the least controversial things. She also claims that on Tom Sawyer’s Island someone scrawled “Fuck Off Nazis” on one of the walls and I feel like flying there right now to prove her wrong. They unleash an army of janitors the moment the park closes every night to unstick discarded gum, and scrub and pick up trash from every square inch of the park. There is absolutely no way there is graffiti of any kind. I have never seen it. She ends by taking a trip to Celebration, Florida and making fun of that. Too easy. Who goes to Celebration for fun, anyway? (Despite its name, it is not a party town and everyone who is there knows it’s not trying to be entertaining. It’s basically a retirement community.)
All I could think of is “thank God I don’t have to go to Disney world with you, or anywhere for that matter.” In fact, Vowell came off as pretty pretentious and un-fun throughout the entire book. She is predictably nerdy – it is almost painful how stereotypical it all is. I read a lot of reviews that praised the book after I gave up reading it, so I picked it up and said “okay, Lauren, let’s try again!” But honestly, it was too excruciating and I thought why am I doing this and I started reading a new book, that I am really actually enjoying.
Maybe I should have tried harder, and maybe, as a Disney nerd, I was farrrrrrr too offended about the unjustifiable Disney stabs. That might have ruined the entire book for me. So please, someone who has read it that is NOT a Disney nerd: is she right, is this book okay? Did the Disney stuff (and all the other stuff) entertain you?
I was excited for about ten seconds when I saw the chapter that started “I am standing on Disney World’s Main Street, U.S.A…” but ended up just getting pissed. Of course, she must explain how it’s a TOTAL ACCIDENT that she ended up there (because she is actually above Disney World), makes fun of pretty much everything (like, the fact that the waiters dressed in Revolutionary War-Era clothes have to wear black sneakers? Who gives a shit?) Honestly, I have witnessed it all. There is plenty to make fun of in Disney World, but Vowell instead seemed appalled by the least controversial things. She also claims that on Tom Sawyer’s Island someone scrawled “Fuck Off Nazis” on one of the walls and I feel like flying there right now to prove her wrong. They unleash an army of janitors the moment the park closes every night to unstick discarded gum, and scrub and pick up trash from every square inch of the park. There is absolutely no way there is graffiti of any kind. I have never seen it. She ends by taking a trip to Celebration, Florida and making fun of that. Too easy. Who goes to Celebration for fun, anyway? (Despite its name, it is not a party town and everyone who is there knows it’s not trying to be entertaining. It’s basically a retirement community.)
All I could think of is “thank God I don’t have to go to Disney world with you, or anywhere for that matter.” In fact, Vowell came off as pretty pretentious and un-fun throughout the entire book. She is predictably nerdy – it is almost painful how stereotypical it all is. I read a lot of reviews that praised the book after I gave up reading it, so I picked it up and said “okay, Lauren, let’s try again!” But honestly, it was too excruciating and I thought why am I doing this and I started reading a new book, that I am really actually enjoying.
Maybe I should have tried harder, and maybe, as a Disney nerd, I was farrrrrrr too offended about the unjustifiable Disney stabs. That might have ruined the entire book for me. So please, someone who has read it that is NOT a Disney nerd: is she right, is this book okay? Did the Disney stuff (and all the other stuff) entertain you?
May 31, 2017
Take the Cannoli: Stories From the New World - Sarah Vowell I can already tell I'm going to want to read this again. Essays, I love them. Plus, in my mind, I can hear Vowell as she must have sounded on This American Life, which is where most of these began. There's a few bits of growing-up interspersed throughout, a lot of history, the blackest of humor. Great stuff, perhaps especially on the Trail of Tears and how many different emotions that trip spawned.
So much humor, though.
On the one hand, I think Vowell would be an awesome friend to hang with, laughing at Choo-Choo and working it into every comment because of the way it sounds ("spleen" is a personal fave) on the other, she would someday drag me along on the least appealing road trip ever. Hotspots of the Teapot Dome scandal? Tippecanoe? Some other phrase I only dimly recall from American history, but can't actually place in time or space? She's already done The Hall of Presidents, so I'd be clear of that one. Yet no matter how little the idea would appeal to me, she'd make it fascinating: full of humor and humanity. Maybe we can just get her and Kate Beaton and Bill Bryson to filter all of history for us?
Library copy
So much humor, though.
On the one hand, I think Vowell would be an awesome friend to hang with, laughing at Choo-Choo and working it into every comment because of the way it sounds ("spleen" is a personal fave) on the other, she would someday drag me along on the least appealing road trip ever. Hotspots of the Teapot Dome scandal? Tippecanoe? Some other phrase I only dimly recall from American history, but can't actually place in time or space? She's already done The Hall of Presidents, so I'd be clear of that one. Yet no matter how little the idea would appeal to me, she'd make it fascinating: full of humor and humanity. Maybe we can just get her and Kate Beaton and Bill Bryson to filter all of history for us?
Library copy
March 4, 2009
I realized reading this that I am familiar with this author from NPR's This American Life
Some of the essays captured my imagination, some did not. All in all it was a diverting read from the all that is occupying my time around her otherwise.
FROM THE PUBLISHER
Take the Cannoli is a moving and wickedly funny collection of personal stories stretching across the immense landscape of the American scene. Vowell tackles subjects such as identity, politics, religion, art, and history with a biting humor. She searches the streets of Hoboken for traces of the town's favorite son, Frank Sinatra. She goes under cover of heavy makeup in an investigation of goth culture, blasts cannonballs into a hillside on a father-daughter outing, and maps her family's haunted history on a road trip down the Trail of Tears. Vowell has an irresistible voice -- caustic and sympathetic, insightful and double-edged -- that has attracted a loyal following for her magazine writing and radio monologues on This American Life.
Some of the essays captured my imagination, some did not. All in all it was a diverting read from the all that is occupying my time around her otherwise.
FROM THE PUBLISHER
Take the Cannoli is a moving and wickedly funny collection of personal stories stretching across the immense landscape of the American scene. Vowell tackles subjects such as identity, politics, religion, art, and history with a biting humor. She searches the streets of Hoboken for traces of the town's favorite son, Frank Sinatra. She goes under cover of heavy makeup in an investigation of goth culture, blasts cannonballs into a hillside on a father-daughter outing, and maps her family's haunted history on a road trip down the Trail of Tears. Vowell has an irresistible voice -- caustic and sympathetic, insightful and double-edged -- that has attracted a loyal following for her magazine writing and radio monologues on This American Life.
June 17, 2021
Sarah Vowell's collection of short stories and essays about America in the 20th century were once very much a fresh take of the moment from a smart young writer with a keen sense of what makes for both a good tale and a good life lesson, but now they feel like a time capsule from another world. Still, that can make for a delicious afternoon read, a nice way to cap off an evening, or a good way to start a day. Even in the worst case scenario of being up at night, unable to sleep, these stories often work as a balm, a reminder that all things shall pass, and most things we will be able to turn into a humorous and insightful anecdote. At the center of it all is her beautiful and poignant account of her journey along the Trail of Tears, taken as a way to reconcile the complex history of not just her own family, but all of America. Smartly arranged, the whole almost hangs together as a single volume, a portrait of a person who all of us can relate to, because none of us are her, but all of us have been there, and none of us really knows where we are going next.
September 25, 2025
I've always enjoyed Sarah Vowell's voice—her authorial voice, that is; her speaking voice can be a bit… unnerving—so this collection of personal essays was similarly enjoyable: If you also enjoy that kind of snarky, Gen X, semi-Goth, NPR-inflected, arguably over-erudite anecdote, you will probably enjoy this too, while learning more about her, her fraternal twin Amy, their rural upbringing, and a bit about some niche aspects of American history (the founding of Chicago, the Trail of Tears) into the bargain. I won't bother with a content breakdown, as I am unlikely to improve upon that provided in the review by Jen here.
January 29, 2021
Sarah Vowell blends her unique voice, command of the English language, and confident writing in this wonderful collections of sixteen essays, many originally monologues on This American Life. Mixing biting humor with heartfelt emotion, personal reflections with stories of America, her focus is eclectic: obsession with "The Godfather;" searching for traces of Frank Sinatra in his home town of Hoboken's as she reflectects on the city's inferiority complex to NYC across the water; road tripping with her twin sister through the Trail of Tears from Georgia to Oklahoma, honoring their Cherokee heritage in an emotional journey; visiting Disneyworld and the town of Celebration as it relates to American literature and the American character; spending several days in the infamous and intentionally decrepit Chelsea Hotel in New York, in days past frequented by the likes of Arthur Miller, Dylan Thomas, Arthur C. Clarke, Patti Smith & Robert Mapplethorpe, Sid Vicious, Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen; revisiting Frank Sinatra in a pre-emptive but futile plea to broadcasters not to use "My Way" in Sinatra obituaries.
And more.
An entertaining an engaging book to be thumbed through frequently.
Highly recommended
And more.
An entertaining an engaging book to be thumbed through frequently.
Highly recommended
September 3, 2016
Registered on Bookcrossing : http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/1...
This is a fun bunch of essays, not as laugh out loud as David Sedaris, but still pretty interesting and funny. The chapter where she's learning to drive at the age of 28 is especially funny. Her boss takes her to a cemetary to practice because she can't hurt anyone there.
The author describing her room at the infamous Chelsea Hotel in New York City: "My room, marked 923 in ballpoint on a crumbling index card taped to the door, is an Edward Hopper painting waiting to happen. so Hopperesque, in fact, that upon entering I feel the need to put on a grimy old slip and slump into the dusty armchair so that I can stare wantonly at the wall."
This is a fun bunch of essays, not as laugh out loud as David Sedaris, but still pretty interesting and funny. The chapter where she's learning to drive at the age of 28 is especially funny. Her boss takes her to a cemetary to practice because she can't hurt anyone there.
The author describing her room at the infamous Chelsea Hotel in New York City: "My room, marked 923 in ballpoint on a crumbling index card taped to the door, is an Edward Hopper painting waiting to happen. so Hopperesque, in fact, that upon entering I feel the need to put on a grimy old slip and slump into the dusty armchair so that I can stare wantonly at the wall."
March 29, 2016
A collection of essays about growing up in America as a bleeding-heart liberal. I liked it, but I didn't love it. Some of the essays were very strong, some were just OK, although all were likable. Fans of David Sedaris should check Vowell out; she writes in a similar "homespun humor with a kooky edge" vein.
3 stars out of 5
3 stars out of 5
November 17, 2016
Essays on her life, history and culture. A lot is lost when reading Vowell after you have seen and heard her hysterical deliver on the same and similar material. She is quirkily adorable.
January 9, 2023
A collection of autobiographical essays about eulogizing Frank Sinatra, following the Trail of Tears, The Godfather, insomnia, the art of making mix tapes, and loads more besides. It's very much about life as an American but with neither the fawning grandiosity nor the abject scorn so common in other essays of this type. I'm a tad jealous of her opportunities to travel to interesting places, but I am (mostly) content to visit them vicariously. There were a few times when I wondered how an essay would have gone had it been written today (specifically post-9/11, but in other ways too). I enjoy Vowell's style of writing and will have to pick up her other books at some point.
December 22, 2020
Una penna mordace sprecata e a tratti decisamente fastidiosa racconta spicchi d’America da una prospettiva molto liberal, molto chic, molto opinabile.
Si salva il capitolo dedicato alla saga del Padrino, da cui il titolo dell’opera. Non si salva l’inverosimile carambola della nostra maître a penser sino a Corleone per gustare i sovraccitati, epici cannoli.
Nient’altro da aggiungere, Vostro Onore.
Si salva il capitolo dedicato alla saga del Padrino, da cui il titolo dell’opera. Non si salva l’inverosimile carambola della nostra maître a penser sino a Corleone per gustare i sovraccitati, epici cannoli.
Nient’altro da aggiungere, Vostro Onore.
April 15, 2024
Some essays grabbed me but others just kind of fell flat - mostly when it felt like she was trying a little too hard to be edgy or literary or, as she admits one outlet called her, curmudgeonly. It was uneven for me but not so much that I won't try the other book of hers I have before I make my final decision on her.
January 30, 2023
3.5 stars.
Funny. Honest. Interesting time portal of a memoir.
Funny. Honest. Interesting time portal of a memoir.
May 15, 2017
I love Sarah Vowell's writing, and this was no exception. It was a bizarre reading experience, though, in light of the 2016 election and her perspective on the seemingly dormant (and now-active) follies of American history. It made me crave her perspective on current events/feel icky.
May 14, 2021
3.5 stars. I liked her essay on Chelsea Girl, The End is Near, Nearer, Nearest ( which agreed with a lot of my views on how talking about The End and the Apocalypse is a good way to make friends) and her whole take on Disney World and the genius that it took to make mixed party tapes.
February 7, 2024
I truly enjoyed this book. Sarah Vowell has a special voice and a unique approach to writing about American History, among many other subjects. This is a book of essays. I usually would not read a book of essays but put this one on my "to read" list seven (7!) years ago. I am glad I finally got to it. I have only read one other book of hers - Unfamiliar Fishes. It tells a similar story to her essay regarding The Trail of Tears. I had not known much at all about Hawaii's history so it was eye-opening. In all, Sarah injects a strange humor along with the dismay of reading about our own country and its versions of genocide.
Terry, I think you would enjoy this one. i could hear you laughing while I read it.
Terry, I think you would enjoy this one. i could hear you laughing while I read it.
February 21, 2023
Quick read. A lot of these stories were already familiar to me from This American Life.
March 6, 2024
This book is a selection of essays, one of which, "American Goth," is laugh out loud funny as read by the author on This American Life. I enjoyed the slice of life from a writer of my generation who has a sharp and unwavering perspective and an extremely pointed sense of humor.
May 23, 2018
Not my favorite of one of my favorite authors' books. Perhaps it's that some of the essays are older and don't feel as relevant, or maybe because the subjects just didn't really grab me. I didn't find myself as engaged as I have been in other essays. Which isn't to say I didn't get some chuckles out of this book, but I felt like the chuckles were more spaced out and mellow.
November 3, 2018
As with all collections like this - musings on life, music, history- some are more appealing than others. They’re well-written, and the book itself is a quick read.
April 26, 2016
Yawn. This was written by a person who is very obviously used to the format of radio presentations and has failed to adapt her style to that of written non-fiction. Don't get me wrong - I've always liked Sarah Vowell's contributions to NPR (to This American Life in particular), and definitely love NPR itself. NPR is love. NPR is life. Unfortunately, like a tattoo that looks pretty on paper but comes out all mushily deformed on skin, what is offbeat and wry and witty over the radio can come across as lifeless in a book, especially when the book reads as yet another fragmented bildungsroman-cum-memoir of a white American woman's dull middle class epiphanies over her short and unremarkable lifetime.
The best parts of this collection were almost always the quoted words of others*, which is about the most damning praise I can give it, yet also indicative of Vowell's great journalistic instincts that are nonetheless smothered in this attempt at self-reflection through essays.
*I'm thinking in particular of the following:
"Personally, I am too vindictively American, too full of hate for the hateful aspects of this country, and too possessed by the things I love here to be too long away." (Ralph Ellison)
and
"You think this is a mess? New York is a mess! Why should it matter if I spill anything inside? The whole city is a dump! I'm not pretending the inside is any different from the outside anymore!" (unnamed guest staying at New York's Chelsea hotel).
The best parts of this collection were almost always the quoted words of others*, which is about the most damning praise I can give it, yet also indicative of Vowell's great journalistic instincts that are nonetheless smothered in this attempt at self-reflection through essays.
*I'm thinking in particular of the following:
"Personally, I am too vindictively American, too full of hate for the hateful aspects of this country, and too possessed by the things I love here to be too long away." (Ralph Ellison)
and
"You think this is a mess? New York is a mess! Why should it matter if I spill anything inside? The whole city is a dump! I'm not pretending the inside is any different from the outside anymore!" (unnamed guest staying at New York's Chelsea hotel).
March 23, 2011
This is my fourth Sarah Vowell book and I've come to regard her stuff as comfort reading. Take the Cannoli is the first of her two essay collections, and it mainly comprises pieces that she had originally written for broadcast on This American Life (her follow-up, The Partly Cloudy Patriot, if I remember correctly, was more evenly balanced with print/online material). As such, I found myself tempted to track down the episodes in which the stories had appeared, and indeed did on a few occasions, enjoying the underlying and interstitial music (a hallmark of TAL), the actualities of the sources themselves, and of course Vowell's own voice. Those stories ran in the late 90s, reflecting the more playful spirit of the show at the time.
Luckily, Vowell adapted the radio scripts into prose that stands on its own, offering the reader more than mere transcription. Cultural commentary, memoir, humor, and travelogue are all on display here, and with her famous This American Life piece (#107: Trail of Tears), "What I See When I Look at the Face on the $20 Bill," one gets a glimpse at the beginnings of her unique approach to pop history. In it she also reveals and probes her conflicting feelings on being American, an issue that she examines thoughtfully in all of her work. As always, Vowell mines the high and the low, erasing the distinction between the two, taking an unflinching look at our more difficult personal and shared experiences, and is often outright hilarious.
Luckily, Vowell adapted the radio scripts into prose that stands on its own, offering the reader more than mere transcription. Cultural commentary, memoir, humor, and travelogue are all on display here, and with her famous This American Life piece (#107: Trail of Tears), "What I See When I Look at the Face on the $20 Bill," one gets a glimpse at the beginnings of her unique approach to pop history. In it she also reveals and probes her conflicting feelings on being American, an issue that she examines thoughtfully in all of her work. As always, Vowell mines the high and the low, erasing the distinction between the two, taking an unflinching look at our more difficult personal and shared experiences, and is often outright hilarious.
July 3, 2019
I love Sarah Vowell's writing. Something about her voice just strikes a real chord with me. I identify with her book obsession, her struggles relating to her more conservative family, her insomnia, and her ambivalence towards Disney. My favorite of the selections in this book was her retracing of the Trail of Tears. I learned some new things about this horrible event, including the involvement of Stand Waite. My favorite book in the 6th grade (read over 50 times) was Rifles for Waite by Harold Keith, which was an excellent look at the Civil War from both sides. From this book, I learned about the reasons that the Cherokee Nation joined the Confederacy and I knew that many of them were slave owners. My friend Suzy is part Cherokee and we have discussed the Trail of Tears and Andrew Jackson several times. But I had never made the connection until Sarah Vowell made the connection and shared it, that this meant that the Cherokees on the Trail of Tears took their slaves with them on that brutal forced march. If one quarter of the 16,000 Cherokees died on the way to Oklahoma from cold and starvation, how many enslaved people died? As Vowell said, as degrading as slavery was, it would have been even worse being the slave to a broken refugee Indian. Vowell came away with a new sense of connection to that part of her family history. I gained another nugget of the psychology of American history to chew on.
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