In between the partying, the drugs, the love affairs, the 'squalid overboogie' of it all, Eve Babitz made time to chronicle the world as she saw it in works like Eve's Hollywood### Slow Days, Fast Company and Sex and Rage.
But Babitz considered her letters 'the kind of writing I do best,' calling them 'practically a diary,' and rarely depositing them into a mailbox. Her missives to friends like Joseph Heller, Annie Leibovitz, Paul Ruscha and Steve Martin - fresh and frank, dashing and droll - are irresistible, as highly spirited as they are acutely perceptive.
In Too L.A., Babitz's biographer, Lili Anolik, has performed a remarkable feat, not only raising these letters from the tomb but accompanying them with informative and irreverent commentary, guiding the reader through the uproarious lifelong party that was Eve Babitz's real masterpiece.
"On the page, Babitz is pure pleasure - a perpetual-motion machine of no-stakes elation and champagne fizz"
The New Yorker
"[Babitz's letters offer] a portrait of an artist in the process of inventing herself... drafting, revising, perfecting, becoming"
The Atlantic
"Lili Anolik calls these letters the author's "most consequential work", and it's hard to disagree while enjoying the bountiful energy that fizzes off every page"
TLS
"In masterpieces of her own devising, Eve Babitz (persona) is a bona fide sex goddess with Jim Morrison between her thighs. In her private correspondence, Eve Babitz (person) is Bridget Jones on acid"
