I find this letter to Joan Didion about her review to Woody Allen's movies fascinating for a few reasons.
Read it here.
What her criticism of his films seems to have been is that no one sits around talking about relationships, except adolescents. And here we have her latest book, for which she won the National Book Award, all about her relationships and searching for meaning--a very Allen-esque pasttime, although admittedly in a different vein. What is most interesting to me about her dismissal of Woody Allen, though, is that the life she describes--tony New York neighborhood, intellectuals, the best hotels and whim-ish trips abroad--is a life that seems out of a Woody Allen movie. And perhpas an idea for his next film. Huh--how we see ourselves, and how we come across--altogether different. And I love her response.