Take a photo of a barcode or cover
3.6 AVERAGE
3.6 AVERAGE
I wanted to read this book because it looked a like the author and I would have a lot in common. It is a decent read but I think she is pretty out of touch and as some other reviewers have said, sometimes offensive! There is enough in here for me to say that if you are curious about the diplomatic life, this will give you a glimpse, a weird glimpse, but a glimpse none the less.
I liked the journal format and the way the author spoke to the reader as a friend. The book was interesting and I really liked hearing about her struggles and moving and just everyday life married to a man with kids.
However, I feel in some parts she over dramatized things to try to make it more interesting or because she is a bit of a worrier. Also, the print was small in my book which made it harder to read (not the authors fault and did not effect my rating).
Overall if you are a traveler at heart, this is a book for you. I would recommend this book to others as it gave a different viewpoint of politics and traveling.
However, I feel in some parts she over dramatized things to try to make it more interesting or because she is a bit of a worrier. Also, the print was small in my book which made it harder to read (not the authors fault and did not effect my rating).
Overall if you are a traveler at heart, this is a book for you. I would recommend this book to others as it gave a different viewpoint of politics and traveling.
Well written and enlightening . Particularly poignant stories of their stay in Syria when you think what has happened to the country now
funny
lighthearted
medium-paced
Has some very interesting and hilarious stories, but her unmistakable upper-class background (her father was brigadier-general in the Indian army) and the fact that she's constantly trying to make out that she's just an "ordinary" person, gets quite annoying, as does the repeated name-dropping. Whilst she seems intent on convincing the reader of the contrary, she comes across as having spent most of her time abroad either organising, (with the help of cook, housemaid and butler) or attending, dinner parties, so it is difficult to feel any sympathy for the "hardships" she claims to have lived through.
This made for a pretty delightful peek into another world. Keenan's husband was a career diplomat, which meant that for much of their working lives they packed up every few years and moved to yet another far-flung country. Kazakhstan, Syria (pre-crisis), Trinidad...
Keenan was a 'trailing spouse', which in the world of diplomacy seems a strange position entirely: able to work, but not necessarily to continue her established career; expected, implicitly or explicitly, to take part in her husband's career (by hostessing, attending events, etc.); getting none of the respect and none of the pay but still effectively sharing in her husband's job. This is not a setup exclusive to diplomacy (how may millions and millions of women the world over have had to put their careers on the back burner for the sake of their husbands'?), but it's more explicit. Think of something like [b:Foreign Service Girl|4531176|Foreign Service Girl|Robin McKown|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1516643109l/4531176._SY75_.jpg|4580387]: once upon a time in the US foreign service, foreign service wives weren't allowed to have jobs—and while men in the foreign service were encouraged to marry, women weren't allowed to keep working once married, and were told that it was just as valuable (but entirely unpaid) to be a foreign service wife. (If I remember correctly, foreign service spouses are now entitled to a pension, thanks to a lawsuit regarding their inability to work. Progress...)
In any case, Keenan and her husband are British, and his work was on behalf of the EU, so a lot of the above doesn't directly apply, but the general idea does. (Odd way of living. Fascinating, but odd.)
Keenan keeps it light throughout, focussing on odd moments and foibles. Two of my favourite anecdotes:
Also, I'd rather never be a diplomat—or diplomat's wife—thanks all the same.
Keenan was a 'trailing spouse', which in the world of diplomacy seems a strange position entirely: able to work, but not necessarily to continue her established career; expected, implicitly or explicitly, to take part in her husband's career (by hostessing, attending events, etc.); getting none of the respect and none of the pay but still effectively sharing in her husband's job. This is not a setup exclusive to diplomacy (how may millions and millions of women the world over have had to put their careers on the back burner for the sake of their husbands'?), but it's more explicit. Think of something like [b:Foreign Service Girl|4531176|Foreign Service Girl|Robin McKown|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1516643109l/4531176._SY75_.jpg|4580387]: once upon a time in the US foreign service, foreign service wives weren't allowed to have jobs—and while men in the foreign service were encouraged to marry, women weren't allowed to keep working once married, and were told that it was just as valuable (but entirely unpaid) to be a foreign service wife. (If I remember correctly, foreign service spouses are now entitled to a pension, thanks to a lawsuit regarding their inability to work. Progress...)
In any case, Keenan and her husband are British, and his work was on behalf of the EU, so a lot of the above doesn't directly apply, but the general idea does. (Odd way of living. Fascinating, but odd.)
Keenan keeps it light throughout, focussing on odd moments and foibles. Two of my favourite anecdotes:
I scrutinized the safety instructions on board the Enotria and discovered an extraordinary thing. In Italian, the instructions read: ‘When you hear the emergency signal of one long whistle followed by seven short whistles, ABANDON SHIP.’ But in English they said: ‘When you hear the emergency signal of one long whistle followed by seven short whistles, passengers are requested to assemble in the First Class lounge.’ In other words, while the Brits were busy assembling, the Italians would be getting away in the lifeboats. (78)
What I liked was that in Trinidad flu epidemics, like hurricanes, were always given names. When we were there, ‘Rambo’ swept the island—which meant that when you got ill, you could ring up all your friends and say that you were in bed with Rambo. (149)I didn't always have a lot of patience for the level of privilege—or, not so much the privilege itself, but I think she occasionally forgets that some of the things she experienced were tremendous privileges—but it nothing else it made for some great vicarious travel reading.
Also, I'd rather never be a diplomat—or diplomat's wife—thanks all the same.
adventurous
funny
lighthearted
fast-paced
A fascinating and hilarious book. Brigid Keenan seems to have the most astounding luck - good and bad - and she writes about it with wit and honesty. She recounts the adventures of her life as a diplomatic wife in an easy, engaging style that had me laughing out loud on every page. This book is therapy and an education combined. Even as I ached in sympathy for her traumatic moments and marveled at her composure, I was ready to pack my bags and sign up with the State Department.
The author shares her insights on what it is like to be the wife of a diplomats in a funny and page turning kind of way. I recommend it!
I really didn't care for this book when I started. I was all set to be sympathetic after the introduction, where she talks about how easy it is to look at the sometimes luxurious conditions diplomats live in and not realize how hard it is for the diplomat's family, but then in the first few chapters, it was like she was trying as hard as she could to make me think as little of her as possible.
I could deal with her crying with every new posting, although the way she described it seemed a bit over the top, especially for a presumably 50-or-so-year-old woman who's been doing this for 30 years (and more, perhaps? She later reveals that her father was in the Indian army, and we all know how stationary army families are, right?). But I get it. Just when you've finally started to feel like somewhere is really and truly home, you have to up and leave and go to an entirely new place where you don't know anyone, the culture is totally different, and you may or may not speak the language.
This last, however, was the first thing that drove me mental. The posting to Kazakhstan, where the book begins, is one for which she had a full four months' notice. In four months, you can learn some Russian. Don't get me wrong; I'm not suggesting you can learn enough to be the next great Russian-language poet, or even to have a particularly in-depth conversation. But surely that's enough time to learn at least some of the basic words you'll need to communicate with your staff? Especially after 30 years. You should be more or less used to having a staff by now, and should know what sorts of things are likely to come up in your dealings with them. But don't arrive in a place after knowing for four months that you were going there, without knowing a single word in their language, and expect me to be sympathetic because you can't communicate. And don't follow that up with a journal entry from a few months later when you still barely know a word. At this point, I seriously wanted to smack her.
I also rolled my eyes pretty hard when she complained about not knowing anyone, and in the next sentence declared that she didn't care for the organized activities available to the diplomatic wives. She was like the kid who rejects half a dozen activities, and then declares itself bored.
Anyway, once we got past that stuff, it wasn't so bad. She seemed to more or less acclimate wherever they went despite herself, and even made friends, and then the story just became a series of ridiculous adventures. Here too, though, I didn't find it nearly as hilarious as I might have hoped. I realize that the humdrum details of life do not make for particularly entertaining reading, so the "hilarious mishap" takes on the starring role, but really, there's only so much incompetence one can take before it just becomes tiresome. I think part of the problem is that it comes across here as a bit "tee-hee, I'm just a girl. Aren't I silly?" and that is something for which I've never had any patience (thank you, Mom & Da), so instead of being endearing, as is often the point with this sort of thing, it was just irritating. But like I said, it wasn't so bad. The adventures, when she wasn't just being stupid, were very much on a par with stories I've heard from the diplomat or two I've encountered. Her attempts to make things better for some of the people she encountered were indeed quite touching sometimes, and really drove home the fact that although yes, one person can make a difference, one person can't do it all and can't solve the whole problem, no matter how much she might want to.
In the end, she does come full circle, and you start to understand why she wallowed in so much misery at the beginning: so she can juxtapose it with journal entries from later in that same posting, when she starts to find her feet, which is precisely her point. She started writing this book after being asked by a new diplomat's wife about whether the sacrifices were worth it, and while I suspect that answer is probably different for everyone (I, for one, am not living in a place with giant jumping spiders not matter how much I love my husband.), I think that ultimately, she did a pretty good job of answering that question. I'd be interested in knowing what decision that other wife ended up making, but that would be her story.
I could deal with her crying with every new posting, although the way she described it seemed a bit over the top, especially for a presumably 50-or-so-year-old woman who's been doing this for 30 years (and more, perhaps? She later reveals that her father was in the Indian army, and we all know how stationary army families are, right?). But I get it. Just when you've finally started to feel like somewhere is really and truly home, you have to up and leave and go to an entirely new place where you don't know anyone, the culture is totally different, and you may or may not speak the language.
This last, however, was the first thing that drove me mental. The posting to Kazakhstan, where the book begins, is one for which she had a full four months' notice. In four months, you can learn some Russian. Don't get me wrong; I'm not suggesting you can learn enough to be the next great Russian-language poet, or even to have a particularly in-depth conversation. But surely that's enough time to learn at least some of the basic words you'll need to communicate with your staff? Especially after 30 years. You should be more or less used to having a staff by now, and should know what sorts of things are likely to come up in your dealings with them. But don't arrive in a place after knowing for four months that you were going there, without knowing a single word in their language, and expect me to be sympathetic because you can't communicate. And don't follow that up with a journal entry from a few months later when you still barely know a word. At this point, I seriously wanted to smack her.
I also rolled my eyes pretty hard when she complained about not knowing anyone, and in the next sentence declared that she didn't care for the organized activities available to the diplomatic wives. She was like the kid who rejects half a dozen activities, and then declares itself bored.
Anyway, once we got past that stuff, it wasn't so bad. She seemed to more or less acclimate wherever they went despite herself, and even made friends, and then the story just became a series of ridiculous adventures. Here too, though, I didn't find it nearly as hilarious as I might have hoped. I realize that the humdrum details of life do not make for particularly entertaining reading, so the "hilarious mishap" takes on the starring role, but really, there's only so much incompetence one can take before it just becomes tiresome. I think part of the problem is that it comes across here as a bit "tee-hee, I'm just a girl. Aren't I silly?" and that is something for which I've never had any patience (thank you, Mom & Da), so instead of being endearing, as is often the point with this sort of thing, it was just irritating. But like I said, it wasn't so bad. The adventures, when she wasn't just being stupid, were very much on a par with stories I've heard from the diplomat or two I've encountered. Her attempts to make things better for some of the people she encountered were indeed quite touching sometimes, and really drove home the fact that although yes, one person can make a difference, one person can't do it all and can't solve the whole problem, no matter how much she might want to.
In the end, she does come full circle, and you start to understand why she wallowed in so much misery at the beginning: so she can juxtapose it with journal entries from later in that same posting, when she starts to find her feet, which is precisely her point. She started writing this book after being asked by a new diplomat's wife about whether the sacrifices were worth it, and while I suspect that answer is probably different for everyone (I, for one, am not living in a place with giant jumping spiders not matter how much I love my husband.), I think that ultimately, she did a pretty good job of answering that question. I'd be interested in knowing what decision that other wife ended up making, but that would be her story.