Matchbook Review: High on Arrival by MacKenzie Phillips
The most disturbing and bravest book I’ve seen in a long, long time is this one:
I can’t believe the candor, or the excess, and the lack of pride or self-aggrandizement in the telling. It’s the American Dream, the California Dream, the dream of “liberation,” but it’s no fantasy. It’s a plain horror, lived in tacky Kodachrome, in the sugar-drunk decades of our little failing experimental country. It is just horribly honest about the brutal pagan realities of life. She deserves an award, and I’m sure will be paid in an endless sea of cold shoulders, or perhaps, of syphilitic libertines who are titillated by the topic. Poor girl. Glad she wrote it. I hope she is too.
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