Historically, a memoir or first-person narrative records the public exploits of politicians or military leaders. Rarely did their private lives find any place on the printed page.

In 18th century France, scandalous memoirs were penned by prostitutes and libertines. Read mostly for their vulgar details and gossip, these anonymous accounts were largely fiction masquerading as fact.

Fast forward to the 21st century:

In 2003 came Under the Tuscan Sun, a journal in which writer Frances Mayes, 35, recorded the  step-by-step process of resurrecting a decrepit house in Tuscany. In between projects, Mayes and her live-in lover explore the land and food of the region.

One reviewer praised Mayes’ ability to relate to Italy, its culture and food.  However, “the two-page, in-depth walk through of installing concrete beams and walls is just utter torture,” she added.

Another critic admitted to rooting for the house to fall down on the couple just to liven things up.The movie version, starring Diane Lane, proved to be more enjoyable than the dry, day-after-day account of renovating Bramasole-’something that yearns for the sun’.

Searching for a main character, a well-plotted story line with a climax and subsequent resolution would be a complete waste of time.  It’s just not there!! But if you yearn for Italy, with its richness of  language and tantalizing food surrounded by the stillness of the countryside, this is the ideal summer read.  Don’t overlook the recipes!!

Fleeing from a nasty divorce in her early 30s, Elizabeth Gilbert produced Eat, Pray, Love (2006) – a methodical travelogue of soul-searching and self discovery. Thirsting for  pleasure, she discovered the world’s tastiest pizza in Rome, washed it down with multiple bottles of wine while chatting gaily with friends.

In an ashram near Mumbai, Gilbert spends hour after grueling hour in meditation hoping to still her tumultuous mind.  Later a search for balance leads her to Bali, a merry medicine man and a torrid love affair.

While Gilbert writes with grace and humor, the entire experiment reeks of self-indulgence and excess.  Other women suffer through divorce, depression and failed affairs every day. Many have dependent children preventing them from kissing an unsatisfactory job good-bye and hopping a plane.  “Get over it!”

Painfully, this bookclubber slogged through eat and half of pray, before cutting the journey short.  Mers GoodWill greatly appreciated my addition to their inventory.

A most recent read, Julie & Juliet – 365 days, 524 recipes, 1 tiny apartment kitchen, began life as a blog before growing into a tell-all, hardcover book (2005). Unhappy with her station in life, author Julie Powell, 30, cooks her way through a stolen copy of Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking, volume 1.

Her only hope of escaping a humdrum secretarial job, a depressing apartment in the outer reaches of Manhattan and childlessness is the Julie/Julia Project.

What started as a witty, self-deprecating account of Powell’s  experiences in the grocery, at the butcher’s shop and in front of the stove descended into a hate fest of the project, her job and her husband.  Along the way she disdains her friends, scorns her mother and disrespects Julia Child, herself.

True, there are some funny moments such as the search for beef bone marrow:

“Perhaps in 1961, when JC published MtAoFC, marrowbones hung off trees like greasy Christmas ornaments.  But I did not live in 1961, nor did I live in France, which would have made things simpler.  Instead, I lived in Long Island City and in Long Island City, marrow bones are simply not to be had.”

One reviewer compared Powell’s wit with that made famous by Helen Fielding in Bridget Jones’ Diary:

“Drivers of semis honked at me; prostitutes stared.  The driver, seeing that she had spotted someone of good sense and breeding in the person of Julie throwing beans out of a pan onto the sidewalk, asked me for directions to New Jersey.”

But as the clock ticked away and the  frantic amateur chef  rushed to  complete all 524 recipes in the time allotted, the release of humor was sadly replaced by an increased amount of profanity.  Even some of  the faithful bleaders (blog readers) protested:  “If only you wouldn’t use f*** so much–it adds nothing.”

Another reader chimed in, “great book, well-written and funny, but only if you can get past the incredibly filthy language that overpowers the story and detracts rather than adds.”

One can only hope that Hollywood has  successfully edited away the extraneous details, complaints, and incessant whining in the upcoming motion picture starring Amy Adams as Julie and Meryl Streep as Julia.