Up first and the highlight of the collection is Slouching Towards Bethlehem, an essay collection concerned with examining life in California during the 1960’s. The collection’s title comes from the W.B. Yeats poem ‘The Second Coming’ - itself well worth a read - and whose promise of a centre that cannon hold casts a shadow over every essay. Particular standout essays include ‘Some Dreamers of the Golden Dream’, ‘Slouching Towards Bethlehem’, and ‘John Wayne: A Love Song’.

The White Album (1979) is a harder book to pinpoint the throughline of. An essay collection not just concerned with California but also the Women’s Movement of the era and the existence of America’s vast Malls. The titular essay ‘The White Album’ is the standout of the collection - for a myriad of reasons, not only bolstered by Didion’s prose but also by the events it chronicles: the Black Panther Party, a studio recording of rock band The Doors, and Didion’s close experience with the trial of a member of the Manson Family - but also of note are the essays ‘Notes Toward a Dreampolitik’ and ‘On the Morning After the Sixties’.

Now the collection reaches the point I’d hesitate to recommend as a starting point to a newcomer to Didion. Salvador (1983), details Didion’s experiences in El Salvador during a short stay in 1982, and, more broadly, the question of America’s involvement in its governance and its civil war during that same time period. Committed fans of Diidon will still find plenty to enjoy in her observations of a world vastly different to her familiar California, and the book would also be of great interest to anyone looking to better understand El Salvador during that time period.

Miami (1987) is a collection about (what else?) the city of Miami, and, more importantly, the existence and social impact of the population of exiled Cubans who lived there. A collection whose scope moves from the culture of one American city out into US foreign policy without feeling contrived or clunky. I had no interest in Miami before reading these essays but Diidon made me absolutely captivated by it. 

After Henry (1992) is a strange entry in this collection. It includes essays on such topic as a deceased and dear friend of Diidon’s, the Reagan administration, and living in Los Angles. Though it lacks a clear binding element like the previous collections, it still contains several excellent essays. Of particular note are ‘In the Realm of the Fisher King’, ‘Girl of the Golden West’, ‘Pacific Distances’ and ‘Sentimental Journeys’.

An essay collection i found best digested in chunks was Political Fictions (2001), dedicated about the political climate of America through the 80’s and 90’s The essays are insightful to the politics of the time and often eerily predictive of future trends, but also undeniable circle back around the same core points. Reading through them one after the other without any other material as a palette cleanser created a feeling of boredom for me, an extreme rarity when it came to reading Didion. Taken on their own merits though, I found ‘Insider Baseball’, ‘Political Pornography’ and ‘Vichy Washington’ the most interesting.

A mark of a good writer is to make something that, on the face of it, seems uninteresting compelling. Diidon achieves precisely such a feat in Where I was From, a collection of essays about her family history and the broader culture of California and the identity of being Californian at the time and in previous history.  I wish I understood my own homeland as deeply as Didion seems to understand her own in these essays.

It’s a hard collection to recommend despite how many compelling essays contained within it. While admittedly cheaper than buying the individual essay collections within it (at least purchased at their recommended retail price), it’s still a sizable investment for a newcomer to Didion. A reader already familiar with Didion through Slouching Towards Bethlehem or The White Album will have less new material to read and digest, and thus - though I don’t like viewing books through this lens - have gotten less value for their money. Perhaps a reader introduced to Didion through the fiction side of her output, something like Play It as It Lays (1970), might be more willing to commit to such a sizable chunk of Didion’s bibliography. 

Whatever format or starting point you decide to pick for her though, Joan Didion is absolutely worth a read even if We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live in particular doesn’t seem to be for you. I don’t usually like making grand claims that a reader owes it to themselves to read a particular writer, but Didion seems to demand such extreme declarations.