No Hurry to Get Home: The Memoir of the New Yorker Writer Whose Unconventional Life and Adventures Spanned the 20th Century

by Emily Hahn, Ken Cuthbertson, Sheila Mcgrath

Release Date: November, 2000

Edition: Paperback

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An Amazing Life

Hahn tells of an exotic existence in a practical and clear voice rich with her honest observations of the people and places of Chicago, London, the Belgian Congo, and Shanghai. Not a memoir in the traditional sense, Hahn, with forthright economy, simply allows the articles she's written throughout her lifetime to illustrate tales of her travels. An inspiring read for woman and men who long for an adventurous life!

She telephoned it in! False advertising!

While approximately 30% of this book is taken up with interesting stories about life abroad in the early part of the 20th century, in no way, shape, or form is this book actually a memoir. It is a collection of her old New Yorker articles, most of which do not even deal with her life abroad. In fact, the majority of the chapters comprise uninteresting tales of her domestic life -- not quite what the title implies, either.

The foreward states, in a fit of honesty that apparently didn't make it to either the title or back-cover copy, that Hahn was under contract to write a memoir, and instead, since she had already been paid and didn't much feel like writing anything more, took a bunch of her old New Yorker clippings and sent them in to her publisher. Anyhow, it certainly shows.

I had heard of Hahn before, and was interested in reading about her China exploits in particular. One could understand, then, that I would be quite chagrined to find that fully the first half of the book is taken up with boring childhood reminiscences of St. Louis and Chicago, and that the last few stories are set once Hahn has become safely re-domiciled in NYC, and concern similarly banal domestic issues.

This is not to say that there is no merit whatsoever in the book. At least a few of the stories are good and interesting: one or two about her life in the Congo, one about the Japanese occupation of Hong Kong, another two about Shanghai and her opium addiction. But even, with these, her writing style is usually so insubstantial, so affectedly flaky, like Dorothy Parker after a partial lobotomy or a teenaged girl dumbing it down so the boys like her, that I would in all likelihood not have liked this book had it been what its title and packaging claimed it to be.

This book is mostly just a collection of irrelevant, poorly written prose that was slapped together to pay the bills. The publisher should have demanded his money back.