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But Did They Breastfeed?
Where Is It?
Public Face
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Unfashionable Children
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For Anyone Looking to Indulge a Martyr Complex
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R.I.P. Dr. Saperstein
Ira Levin, the man who brought me numerous nightmares courtesy of his novel Rosemary's Baby, and Roman Polanski's movie based on it has apparently died.
Not content with squicking out pregnant women, he went on to write The Stepford Wives, which creepily and amusingly did a nice job of mocking suburban angst while legitimizing it. With robot ladies.
At any rate, Rosemary's Baby, the movie, which I have seen many times over the years, (and yes, I did read the novel as well) handily captured so many of my pregnancy worries. Fear of carrying Satan's child wasn't really on my list of preoccupations, but all of the betrayals and fear of the kid within were absolutely percolating inside me, along with the baby who would become Felix.
Happily, now that the children are around, I spend more time panicking about keeping them from swinging from the rafters and getting my work done than I do thinking about which neighbors could possibly be Satanists.
I am sorry to hear about Mr. Levin's death. The world needs pulpy writers who can so easily nab and articulate angsty zeitgeists but his heyday was some decades ago. Does he have a successor?
posted by Elise at 5:23 AM
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