From Publishers Weekly
While Janowitz is famous for her 1986 bestseller Slaves of New York, she's published widely since then—in everything from Vogue to Modern Ferret—and has revised many pieces for this anthology. Apart from the first selection, a horrifying description of having a miscarriage in a toilet at the Museum of Modern Art, most are in the E.B. White mode: witty vignettes on life in New York. Since adopting Chinese babies isn't uncommon in the world of modern Manhattanites, it's not surprising when Janowitz describes the trip she and her husband took to Heifei to adopt. Janowitz's description of her incompetence as a new mom has an almost Marx Brothers quality, as she details their baby fighting a diaper change "like a wounded fox in a leg-hold trap." Her essays on animals and pets are characteristically contrarian. She prefers "timid, feeble, neurotic, snappish, picky, babyish" dogs, but finds the Prospect Park Zoo's kangaroo no more interesting than a "gigantic rabbit." Apart from crotchety lapdogs, Janowitz loves food (oozing pizza, pounds of chocolate, doughnuts, steaks, etc.), although she doesn't enjoy elegant hors d'oeuvres at lavish receptions—after all, isn't eating "basically a solitary pleasure"? "The '80s died in Manhattan in 1987, along with Andy Warhol," she writes. But Janowitz herself, older and more self-critical, is still going strong. Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.


From Booklist
Janowitz's caustic wit, her taste for the sordid and the absurd, and her knack for skewering the fashionable and championing the clueless are as vividly present in her pithy nonfiction as they are in her spiky novels, which include A Certain Age (1999) and Peyton Amber (2003). This robust essay collection spans the past two decades and forms a montagelike self-portrait and a sharp critique of urban life. But will the reader get past the jarring opening essay, a deadpan and graphic account of her suffering a miscarriage at the Museum of Modern Art? This rough start does establish Janowitz's sanguinary tendencies, and things get far more engaging once she offers curmudgeonly yet affectionate tales about her adopted Chinese daughter and cops to her penchant for wearing bizarre outfits and her fondness for tiny, high-strung dogs. Janowitz is at her mordant best when she chronicles the spectrum of New York life, from her crummy neighborhood grocery and the fringes of Prospect Park to decadent promotional events and her hilarious escapades with Andy Warhol and their blind date club. Never correct or polite, Janowitz is sharply observant, bracingly frank, wryly skeptical, and fully aware of the deeper issues at stake, from the devaluing of art to homelessness to the precarious state of the environment. Donna Seaman
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved


Book Description
Welcome to the wonderful world of Tama Janowitz, one of New York's wittiest social chroniclers. Area Code 212 is filled with idiosyncratic delights and oddities, including her hilarious account of Andy Warhol's 1980s blind date club; her brief moment of celebrity as an elderly teenage extra in a ZZ Top video; the day she tested mentally retarded on an IQ test; and many other revealing tales of New York life, including its parties, its restaurants, and its fashion. Janowitz gives us her unique lowdown on her 1990s conversion from Manhattan to Brooklyn, on observing the Twin Towers come down from her apartment roof, on hairless dogs and ferrets, babies, the outer boroughs, big-hair days and bad-hair days.

Above all, the humor and insights of Area Code 212 will not only appeal to all of those who live in New York City, but also to those from around the country who have a fascination with what it is like to thrive in the urban mecca.

Self-deprecating, funny, and touching, Area Code 212 is an irresistible collection of essays.



From the Back Cover
"The other day I was walking down the street (again, fully, 100 percent clothed, and when I say 100 percent, that means practically not an inch of exposed skin) and some man on a corner yelled, "You having a bad-hair day! Whoops, I mean you having a bad-hair month! I guess you probably having a bad-hair life!"
- from Area Code 212

Praise for Tama Janowitz

"A writer of considerable talent."
- The New York Observer

"A singular talent"
- The New York Times Book Review

"A true original."
- San Francisco Chronicle

"Funny, reflective . . . wonderfully sharp."
- The Washington Post

"A penetrating eye."
- New York magazine



About the Author
Tama Janowitz exploded onto the literary scene in 1986 with her bestselling book, Slaves of New York. Her most recent novel is Peyton Amberg. Janowitz's work has appeared in many publications, including The New Yorker, Vogue, the New York Times Op-Ed page, and elsewhere. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband and daughter.

FROM THE PUBLISHER

"Welcome to the wonderful world of Tama Janowitz, one of New York's wittiest social chroniclers." The humor and insights of Area Code 212 will appeal not only to all of those who live in New York City but also to those from around the country who have a fascination with what it is like to thrive in the urban mecca.

FROM THE CRITICS

Sarah Churchwell - The New York Times

… the essays she does punctuate with meaning -- not just typography -- are superb.

Publishers Weekly

While Janowitz is famous for her 1986 bestseller Slaves of New York, she's published widely since then-in everything from Vogue to Modern Ferret-and has revised many pieces for this anthology. Apart from the first selection, a horrifying description of having a miscarriage in a toilet at the Museum of Modern Art, most are in the E.B. White mode: witty vignettes on life in New York. Since adopting Chinese babies isn't uncommon in the world of modern Manhattanites, it's not surprising when Janowitz describes the trip she and her husband took to Heifei to adopt. Janowitz's description of her incompetence as a new mom has an almost Marx Brothers quality, as she details their baby fighting a diaper change "like a wounded fox in a leg-hold trap." Her essays on animals and pets are characteristically contrarian. She prefers "timid, feeble, neurotic, snappish, picky, babyish" dogs, but finds the Prospect Park Zoo's kangaroo no more interesting than a "gigantic rabbit." Apart from crotchety lapdogs, Janowitz loves food (oozing pizza, pounds of chocolate, doughnuts, steaks, etc.), although she doesn't enjoy elegant hors d'oeuvres at lavish receptions-after all, isn't eating "basically a solitary pleasure"? "The '80s died in Manhattan in 1987, along with Andy Warhol," she writes. But Janowitz herself, older and more self-critical, is still going strong. Agent, Betsy Lerner at the Gernert Company. (Dec.) Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.

Library Journal

This first work of nonfiction from novelist Janowitz (Peyton Amberg; A Certain Age) is a collection of essays about life-specifically her life-in New York City. The brief essays, many previously published in an eclectic array of periodicals, from Modern Ferret to New York Press, are arranged in broad categories such as "Family Life," "City Life," and "Food." Topics range from Janowitz's friendship with Andy Warhol to her experiences as an extra in a ZZ Top video, her take on 9/11, and her penchant for wearing unsuitable attire. The number of essays is impressive-77-but the collection as a whole is somewhat disjointed and often repetitive; several essays, for instance, recount the same anecdotes about Janowitz's daughter and her dogs. Fans of Janowitz's writing will likely be interested in this collection, and New York libraries will surely experience demand, but most libraries can consider this an optional purchase.-Rita Simmons, Sterling Heights P.L., MI Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.

Kirkus Reviews

From novelist Janowitz (Peyton Amberg, 2003, etc.): an uneven but not unappealing collection of short nonfiction written primarily for magazines. The 78 pieces included here are all over the map-mostly the map of New York City, though the author takes a couple of side excursions, such as her trip to China to pick up her adopted daughter. Janowitz is ready to tackle almost any topic in her trademark prickly, deadpan manner; strangely, that very flatness gives these articles their life. Chronicling everyday travails is her strong suit. She can grouse with the best of them, noting indignantly that despite being tempted at every corner by a fabulous restaurant, "the modern New York woman is expected to have the same shape as that of a really tough villager who lives in a primitive place and spends the day hunting and gathering." She can explain what it's like to live with a dog that gets depressed after losing a fight, and she can make her ferret-fixation scarily palpable: "I thought I had to smell a ferret or I would go mad. It was even worse than the six months or so that I obsessed with eating sand." Some of the pieces are too short, most notably a narrative about being "raped" by butterflies, intertwined with the story of a horrible traffic accident she's involved in. That's a piece that cries out for more detail. A surfeit of material bemoans Janowitz's failures in dress, hairstyle, and comportment, and she works the jaded angle awfully hard. (On her mothering abilities: "It wasn't that I didn't love being with her-I did, for up to fifteen minutes at a time.") The highlight here is an overarching portrait of her home borough, Brooklyn, so sensitive that it's hard to believe she everlived in Manhattan. How to find pleasure and fault here and there about the city, delineated with a pleasingly naked candor. Agent: Betsy Lerner/Gernert Agency

AUTHOR DESCRIPTION