Letters

Letters 08-31-2015

Inalienable Rights This is a response to the “No More State Theatre” in your August 24th edition. I think I will not be the only response to this pathetic and narrow-minded letter that seems rather out of place in the northern Michigan that I know. To think we will not be getting your 25 cents for the movie you refused to see, but more importantly we will be without your “two cents” on your thoughts of a marriage at the State Theatre...

Enthusiastically Democratic Since I was one of the approximately 160 people present at when Senator Debbie Stabenow spoke on August 14 in Charlevoix, I was surprised to read in a letter to Northern Express that there was a “rather muted” response to Debbie’s announcement that she has endorsed Hillary Clinton for president...

Not Hurting I surely think the State Theatre will survive not having the homophobic presence of Colleen Smith and her family attend any matinees. I think “Ms.” Smith might also want to make sure that any medical personnel, bank staff, grocery store staff, waiters and/or waitress, etc. are not homosexual before accepting any service or product from them...

Stay Home I did not know whether to laugh or cry when I read the letter of the extremely homophobic, “disgusted” writer. She now refuses to patronize the State Theatre because she evidently feels that its confines have been poisoned by the gay wedding ceremony held there...

Keep Away In response to Colleen Smith of Cadillac who refused to bring her family to the State Theatre because there was a gay wedding there: Keep your 25 cents and your family out of Traverse City...

Celebrating Moore And A Theatre I was 10 years old when I had the privilege to see my first film at the State Theatre. I will never forget that experience. The screen was almost the size of my bedroom I shared with my older sister. The bursting sounds made me believe I was part of the film...

Outdated Thinking This letter is in response to Colleen Smith. She made public her choice to no longer go to the State Theater due to the fact that “some homosexuals” got married there. I’m not outraged by her choice; we don’t need any more hateful, self-righteous bigots in our town. She can keep her 25 cents...

Mackinac Pipeline Must Be Shut Down Crude oil flowing through Enbridge’s 60-yearold pipeline beneath the Mackinac Straits and the largest collection of fresh water on the planet should be a serious concern for every resident of the USA and Canada. Enbridge has a very “accident” prone track record...

Your Rights To Colleen, who wrote about the State Theatre: Let me thank you for sharing your views; I think most of us are well in support of the first amendment, because as you know- it gives everyone the opportunity to express their opinions. I also wanted to thank Northern Express for not shutting down these types of letters right at the source but rather giving the community a platform for education...

No Role Model [Fascinating Person from last week’s issue] Jada quoted: “I want to be a role model for girls who are interested in being in the outdoors.” I enjoy being in the outdoors, but I don’t want to kill animals for trophy...

Home · Articles · News · Books · Let Them Eat Cake
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Let Them Eat Cake

Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli - January 19th, 2009
Let Them Eat Cake
New York is abuzz in One Fifth Avenue


By Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli

One Fifth Avenue
By Candace Bushnell
Hyperion Press
$25.95


Ahh—how I miss the scheming, the sex, the petty jealousies, the back-biting, the shameless snobbery, the hangers-on, and the social climbing, now that Sex and the City, has moved to rerun heaven.
I’m lost without my obsession with $900 Manolo Blahnik shoes, with $1000 Prada boots, and YSL bags at $1399. Take me back, oh Candace Bushnell! Take me back to the time of full-blown collagen lips and plastic noses. I want to feel, once again, how deprived I am because I don’t live in New York City, reside at one of the better addresses, buy clothes more expensive than my first house, and have friends who would drop me at the first hint of a pay cut or a loss of status.
Luckily One Fifth Avenue (Hyperion Press) is out. Candace Bushnell, who wrote the book Sex and the City, from which the TV show sprang, has penned a just-in-the-nick-of time novel about the uber-wealthy with feet of clay; the famous and the infamous. For a moment now I can go back to that place where all is luxury, vice is rampant, and Prada reigns supreme.
In the novel everyone at One Fifth Avenue, one of the best addresses in New York City, has a secret. Some can’t really afford to live there; others can but shouldn’t; others have dark personal flaws. Nobody is happy. Even the one kid in the book harbors a secret that could land him in jail.
So, shall we begin?
The jacket says, “One Fifth Avenue, the Art Deco beauty towering over one of Manhattan’s oldest and most historically hip neighborhoods, is a one-of-a-kind address, the sort of building you have to earn your way into—one way or another.”

$20 MILLION PRICE TAG
The story begins much as Mary Poppins begins, with a big wind coming to town. People are blown off their feet. One old lady dies.
The death of Louise Houghton provides an empty apartment at One Fifth, and the battles for the apartment begin, the $20 million price tag hardly being a blip in the checkbook to the folks vying for this pad. A billionaire (after all we are no longer impressed with mere millions), Paul Rice, and his wife, Annalisa, want the apartment. He will pay anything, bribe anyone, bully anyone, to get what he wants and, therefore, gets it. Well, ‘gets it’ in more ways than one.
The wife, Annalisa Rice is introduced to Billy Litchfield, a Truman Capote bon vivant type. Billy is a friend and who need direction as to how to decorate their homes, whom to invite to parties, what to wear—all of those most pressing human necessities of life.
So Paul and Annalisa Rice move into One Fifth and immediately begin to change the building. He wants air conditioners stuck through the walls. He fills the elegant ballroom with banks of computers and a monstrous fish tank filled with $10,000 (each) fish.
Seems this is where the morality play kicks in: Daring to change what New York society values is the greatest sacrilege to the money worshippers. That he is rude and ill-bred only adds to his outsider-ness. Paul will receive certain comeuppance. All outsiders seem to, except a lovely movie star, whose fame protects her.

EASY WAY OUT
Schiffer Diamond, the movie star, is in love with Philip Oakland, another building occupant and a screen writer. Middle-aged Philip, unfortunately, chooses to have an affair with Lola Fabricant, a much younger southern deb transplant, who has come to New York to become famous as a fashion designer or as an actress, whichever is easier. She finds trading sex for a fancy home and other favors less stressful than holding down an actual job. Since this screen writer, with his apartment at One Fifth, is famous, Lola decides she might as well marry him. But the movie star is in love with him, too.
Considering that the best laid…well, you get the idea.
And then we have Mindy Gooch, president of the condo association, who takes the care of One Fifth to her heart much as someone else might view holy orders. Of course, the awful Paul Rice and Mindy Gooch clash, with reverberations ringing from apartment to apartment. Almost as if cracks were opening in the walls themselves, noises are heard from floor to floor, lives are affected, people die and people change. One Fifth Avenue goes on. The noises are soon gone, peace settles, and the aristocracy continues.
Why does all of this sound like the machinations of the court of Louis XVI? Why does it have the ring of history about it? “Let them eat cake,” Marie Antoinette famously cried out when told the populous had no bread to eat. That bit of insensitivity tilted France toward revolution and dear Marie toward the guillotine. But wasn’t it during the Great Depression that light comedies and frivolous musicals grew to be popular? Maybe there is something satisfying, after all, to tales of kings and queens and golden touches.
Anyway, for all my posturing, I liked the book. So there.

 
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