That caviar is a garnish! (and other things I learned from Nora Ephron)

28 June 2012


You are daring to imagine that you could have a different life. Oh, I know it doesn't feel like that. You feel like a big fat failure now. But you're not. You are marching into the unknown armed with... Nothing. Have a sandwich. 
 
Nora Ephron, You've Got Mail

I was just thinking last week that I should write a post on my obsession with the You’ve Got Mail apartment.

You know the one: Kathleen Kelly’s shabby chic brownstone walk-up, home to the lone reed and upright piano, walls covered in books and mementos, and open window overlooking a beautiful autumn New York City morning. I’ve laid awake at night, trying to figure out this apartment’s dimensions (Is it a studio? U-shaped? Does the kitchen lead into the bathroom?), imagining where I would put my mother’s secretary or the wall shelf my husband built me six Christmases ago.


I love that apartment. I would be happy in that apartment. I belong in that apartment, in the city, in the Autumn, with a bookshop around the corner.

So yes, I had formatted in my mind this beautiful ode to the You’ve Got Mail apartment. And then Nora Ephron died.

Nora Ephron, to quote the younguns, was a beast. She was a writer, in every sense of the word. Journalist, essayist, playwright, author and screenwriter. She nearly literally did it all. And then she started directing movies, where she created girls like me - independent, quirky, proud, loud, naïve, flawed, sensitive - and a world girls like me could inhabit.

Her genre was “romantic comedy,” but her stories were so much more than that. They were about messing up, and someone loving you anyway. They were about taking a chance, and getting let down. They were about discovering your true self, and falling all over yourself in the process. At least, these are the ones I remember.

I’m too young (yes, I get to use this phrase!) to know about Silkwood, and maybe a bit too young to really appreciate When Harry Met Sally, but I remember crying along with Annie in Sleepless in Seattle as she first heard Sam’s voice on the radio. And I remember the first birthday after we were married when my husband gifted me with a VHS of You’ve Got Mail hidden inside a brand new grey felt messenger bag.

Oh, I so wanted to be Kathleen Kelly. I even worked in a book shop (on the corner of Oak Park and Lake Street), wore black tights and black skirts, and sadly, experimented with an ill-advised short haircut.

(Side note: no one, in the history of the world, will ever have Meg Ryan’s hair in that movie. I don’t care who you are.)

But back to Nora. Her movies made me feel like it was ok to be weird. In fact, I could be weird and smart. Weird and smart and loved. Weird and smart and loved and imperfect. I could lose my temper, make a mistake, try again and conquer the world.

And now, at 33 and a mother of three and in the midst of so many life changes I can hardly stand it, I’m realizing that loving her stories doesn’t mean recreating the Meg Ryan look or working in a book shop. Loving her stories means I’m embracing my own. Loving her stories means I go forward bravely, confident in who God made me, believing that my loudness or weirdness or sensitiveness isn’t a mistake. Loving her stories means acknowledging that the world is messy and we are messy, but still, somewhere, there’s a place for us in it.

Oh, I love the You’ve Got Mail apartment, but no matter how I try to bend it, I’m not sure it’s possible for the pictures on the screen to match the dimensions in my head. Still, I’ll take solace in the world Nora Ephron created.

In her stories, it’s not about the apartment, anyway.


So what's your favourite Nora Ephron movie, character, or apartment? Tell me your Meg Ryan haircut story. I know you have one.

7 comments:

  1. I've been offline a long time and missed your blog. Love you commentary on life. I don't have a favorite Nora Ephron movie, since I'm way too geeky due to having lived overseas 18 years. But I love the idea of freedom to be weird and smart and loved!!!!! (at 48!!)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You're so sweet! I was just over at your blog not too long ago, and glad you're back sharing about the momentous occasions of life upon your return. :)

      Delete
  2. I fantasized about that brownstone even before it was in the movie. It was my dream when I was living in a rural town 20 miles from the nearest stoplight, and it was my dream when I was living in a tract ranch house in a subdivision, and it was my dream when I was living in a big colonial in the country where my biggest problem was deer eating the tulips.
    I finally stopped fantasizing about it when I moved to a developing country. I think that was when I realized the brownstone was never going to happen [well, never say never, but it's unlikely]. That was also when I realized that though I didn't have air-conditioning or central heating, I had a roof over my head [a big roof], and a room of my own to write, and it was time to live my life and not just dream about it.

    I'm going to miss Nora and the way she showed us how to live our stories.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks for stopping by! I think you're right: never say never, but appreciate and fully invest in where you are at.

      Delete
  3. I LOVE Julie and Julia. I don't know if I could choose between it and You've Got Mail, though. Luckily no one ever has to make that choice.

    I'm Jessica's friend, by the way; we met at the Silver Spoon cafe once, and I liked your sandals. =)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I remember you, Mindy! I think it was post-wisdom-teeth-removal. I still ahve to see Julie & Julia... perhaps this weekend.

      Delete
  4. Oh! I'm so excited for you to see it then! Make Jessica watch it with you, for sure. =)

    ReplyDelete

 
FREE BLOGGER TEMPLATE BY DESIGNER BLOGS