How to Lose Friends and Alienate People
You'll Never Eat Lunch in This Town Again meets The Bonfire of the Vanities, as told by...a male Bridget Jones? And it all really happened.\ In 1995 high-flying British journalist Toby Young left London for New York to become a contributing editor at Vanity Fair. Other Brits had taken Manhattan-Alistair Cooke then, Anna Wintour now-so why couldn't he? But things didn't quite go according to plan. Within the space of two years he was fired from Vanity Fair, banned from the most fashionable bar...
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You'll Never Eat Lunch in This Town Again meets The Bonfire of the Vanities, as told by...a male Bridget Jones? And it all really happened. New York Post Destined to become the most talked-about summer read in town.
\ From Barnes & NobleHe's young, he's British, and he's come to our shores intent on making a name for himself at Vanity Fair magazine. He's Toby Young, and this hysterical account of his (failed) attempt to "take Manhattan" will have you rolling in the aisles.\ \ \ \ \ Young unsuccessfully chases his dream to become a Manhattan mover and shaker, but successfully catalogues his experience into an excellent book.\ \ \ Wall Street JournalMr. Young ... recounts his experience with wit, a flair for comedy, self-deprecation and a goodish bit of sociological insight on the side.\ \ \ \ \ New York PostDestined to become the most talked-about summer read in town.\ \ \ \ \ Elle.comDelicious.\ \ \ \ \ Village VoiceFull of amusing dish on the media world.\ \ \ \ \ Toronto Globe & MailAchingly funny.\ \ \ \ \ New City Chicago[The book] reads so snappily and is so self-effacing you can't help but commiserate.\ \ \ \ \ PeopleHilarious lifestyles of the rich and shameless.\ \ \ \ \ Wall Street JournalYoung recounts his experience with wit, a flair for comedy, self-deprecation, and a goodish bit of sociological insight on the side.\ \ \ \ \ GQA gimlet-eyed insider's account of the status-obsessed, celebrity-beholden glossy magazine mafia.\ \ \ \ \ San Francisco Chronicle[Young's] sharp humor, fluid style, and inside dish make his tale a gossipy confection.\ \ \ \ \ Salon.comA very funny book.\ \ \ \ \ GQWildly funny.\ \ \ \ \ TatlerHysterical.\ \ \ \ \ Sunday TimesAs career moves go, Toby Young's were the worst since Abraham Lincoln booked theatre tickets. But they make a magnificent read.\ \ \ \ \ FHMIt'll make you feel a whole lot better about your own miserable career.\ \ \ \ \ Time OutHugely enjoyable.\ \ \ \ \ Courier MailReads like a cross between Bonfire of the Vanities and an episode of 'Seinfeld.'\ \ \ \ \ GuardianA feel-good book. Really.\ \ \ \ \ Publishers WeeklySeemingly unable to keep from offending everyone he comes in contact with, British-born Young is a misfit in the New York publishing world. He isn't attractive (he calls himself a Philip Seymour Hoffman look-alike, but with bad teeth), he's socially inept without alcohol and, most importantly, he's consumed with the desire to "be somebody." His memoir is a hilarious and scathing insider's view of the world in which Young wishes so badly to fit. Hired by editor Graydon Carter to work at Vanity Fair ("Basically I forgot to fire Toby Young every day for two years"), Young is shocked to find that his journalist colleagues are more awed by celebrity than news and are more likely to cuddle up with publicists than with a smoke and a shot at the local watering hole. The saving grace of Young's tale of his own downward spiral is his ability to lambaste himself along with the New York publishing world. Young's crisp reading of this memoir is highly entertaining and bitter, yet guileless and funny. His hilariously screechy imitations of some of the female heavy hitters of the publishing world (such as Tina Brown and Peggy Siegal) bring out his knack for hyperbole and his boyish, prankster style. Simultaneous release with the Da Capo hardcover (Forecasts, June 10). (July) Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.\ \ \ \ \ Kirkus ReviewsKiss-and-tell memoir of Young's ill-fated stint as contributing editor at Vanity Fair magazine. When we first meet our hero, he is desperately attempting to gain admittance to the 1994 Vanity Fair Oscar party, the most exclusive ticket in Hollywood on the night of the Academy Awards. Not that he is truly starstruck, Young says. No, he has adopted this attitude in response to his British circle's sham indifference to celebrities: "I hammed up my obsession with A-list stars as a way of letting my friends know I found their pretence at insouciance totally unconvincing." This contrary attitude coupled with romantic notions about Algonquin Round Table journalism eventually delivers Young, the son of towering English intellectuals, to the New York offices of Vanity Fair, where he attempts, mostly unsuccessfully, to make a splash. Editor Graydon Carter is unimpressed with his story pitches; a barroom brawl results in Young's name being removed from the masthead; and an uninformed Young hires a stripper to come to the office on "Bring our daughters to work day." In between detailing his own failures, Young dishes his friends and colleagues (for some reason, Anthony Haden-Guest is given a particularly rough time of it), moans about what serious wankers his workmates are (the Vanity Fair offices are compared to an accounting firm), and brings Tocqueville's observations about Americans to bear on contemporary culture. This skewering of celebrity worship at the nation's leading "upscale supermarket tabloid" bears a distinct resemblance to shooting fish in a barrel; nonetheless, Young's language is energetic and engaging, making one wish (along with his father, apparently) that he'd find a worthiersubject. Enjoyably bitchy specifics of Conde Nast culture, buried beneath tedious social analysis and self-deprecation.\ \
