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Journal Entry 2 by LadyKnightNiko from Liberty Township, Ohio USA on Sunday, March 25, 2007
 BACK COVER: "After 17 years, the girls from Willow Lake Camp reunite and find that some things have changed, while others will always remain the same.
Meet Ali. . .
Ali dropped her hand and slunk lower in her chair. Dafna and Beth were dressed like twins (of course), wearing outfits similar to the ones her sisters had been sporting. What was it with that outfit? Was it something that came with your apartment when you moved to the Upper East Side, like a welcome basket in a hotel room filled with fruit and champagne? (Welcome to the Upper East side! Enjoy your Marc Jacobs skirt and top and these adorable Manolo Blahnik sandals!)
Meet Arden. . .
Arden hated odd numbers. That's why she and Jude had bought their current hateful apartment. Their old hateful apartment had been on the ninth floor of a West Side pre-war and although the space had been charming and a bona fide movie star had lived on the floor above them, Arden felt, after consulting both a numerologist and a feng-shui specialist, that the vibe was entirely too negative on an odd-numbered floor.
Meet Jessica. . .
"How's the show going?" the concierge shouted at Jessica.
"Oh, you know," she answered pleasantly, omitting the fact that she was sick to death of doing the same show every night and twice a day on Wednesdays and weekends; omitting the fact that the cast was made up of the most dysfunctional, competitive, nasty performers this side of the Equator; omitting the fact that she spent most of her days binging and puking; omitting the fact that on certain days she felt like the last ten years of her life had been a waste.
Meet Dafna. . .
. . . most of her peers werealready engaged or married. One or two even had children. Even Beth was engaged. It was unthinkable. The girl who had played second fiddle to Dafna since they were 8 years old was going to walk down the aisle first!? How could it be? She, Dafna Eve Shapiro, who had never been short of boyfriends, wasn't about to end up an old maid!
Meet Laura. . .
Laura had always been all business. She was the girl in the bunk who knew, by the second day of camp, when visiting day was and when the counselor play, which day was pajama breakfast and which the inner-camp tennis tournament. . . And her cubbie! Never a sweater or t-shirt out of place, and everything organized by color, weight and size.
Meet Beth. . .
. . . tried on 9 dresses. Hated them all. Hate my nose. And my thighs. And my hair. Why did I cut it? I told Kevin to keep it at my shoulders and now it's just below my chin. My face has never looked more round. If someone drilled three holes in the top of my head, you could bowl with it. I feel like suing Kevin. I hate him. I'm not going to have him do my hair for the wedding after all.
Meet Wendy. . .
It was a further amazement to Arden to think that the once-formidable Wendy Levin was now nothing more then a well-toned, well-manicured, well-dressed suburban mom. Sure, there were all the tennis trophies around the house, but when Arden asked what they were from she had learned that Wendy was simply the Orange Lawn Tennis Club ladies champion. It was a far cry from the super-jock camper everyone thought would win the U.S. Open one day. . .
Sex and the City meets Jane Austen in a wickedly funny, razor-sharp novel about the fortunes and misfortunes, expectations and regrets of seven women who shared long-ago summers at an elite Jewish girls' camp.
Anyone who's ever wondered what happened to the girls in the exclusive cliques of adolescence will delight in The J.A.P. Chronicles. With the wry wit and keen eye and ear of a latter-day Jane Austen, Isabel Rose (herself a scion of a prominent New York family) provides the ultimate insider's look at the glamorous upper-crust society that even Carrie Bradshaw would give her Jimmy Choos to join.
When seven former bunkmates at Willow Lake Camp reunite for the camp's one hundredth anniversary, the event brings more than just a revival of the old camp spirit. Ali Cohen, an Oscar-nominated filmmaker and former camp outcast, plans to make a documentary about her former bunkmates. The ugly duckling turned successful self-made swan secretly hopes that that her teenage tormentors will have grown into adult losers.
As each woman steps into focus, however, it becomes clear that it is not quite that simple. Sure, Arden can't keep a job (even as a nanny!), Jessica is stuck in regional theater, and Dafna has lost both her job and her $20,000 per month stipend from her father. But Laura is apparently flourishing as a Los Angeles superagent, and Beth has found happiness by throwing over her dull but successful fiancé for her wedding photographer. Even Wendy, golden girl turned Short Hills housewife, has managed to skirt around old regrets and long-stifled urges—until seeing an old acquaintance stirs them up again.
Funny, smart, and ultimately moving, The J.A.P. Chronicles opens a whole new perspective on the girls from the "best families" and on the money, culture, and expectations that define their lives."
I'm not going to lie- it took me half the book to figure out what J.A.P. actually stood for. And once I did, I thought it was the stupidest thing I had ever heard. As for the actual book- it wasn't bad. It was occasionally really good. All in all, it was mediocre. I probably won't read it again, though.
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Journal Entry 5 by guinaveve from Mason, Ohio USA on Wednesday, May 30, 2007
This story was interesting enough, but I found it pretty distasteful. I have read some erotic erotica, but the stuff in here just came out wrong in the context. What Wendy did to Ali at camp and the exact details about what happened to Arden as a child were just raunchy in the midst of the rest of the story. Most authors, but especially fiction writers, who cover sexual abuse in children keep away from exact descriptions, but this author did not. It was almost like she was trying to tantalize the reader's mind instead of talking about a disturbing and distressing subject.
Something else I noticed was how judgmental the narration was, making certain lifestyles seem frivolous and unimportant. Maybe that is the statement the author is trying to make, but it seemed a very condescending one. That tone always bothers me in stories, even if I have nothing in common with the lifestyles in question.
All that said, the storyline was interesting enough, reaccounting the adulthood of girls who spent their youth at an all girls Jewish summer camp.
I intend to pass this on soon, probably at the next local BC meet up.
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The J.A.P. Chronicles: A Novel
