Eric Segal's Love Story

What can you say about a twenty-five year old girl who died? That she was beautiful. And brilliant. That she loved Mozart and Bach. And the Beatles. And me. Once, when she specifically lumped me with those musical types, I asked her what the order was, and she replied, smiling, “Alphabetical.” At the time I smiled too. But now I sit and wonder whether she was listing me by my first name- in which case I would trail Mozart- or by my last name, in which case I would edge in there between Bach and the Beatles. Either way I don’t come first, which for some stupid reason bothers the hell out of me, having grown up with the notion that I always had to be number one. Family heritage, don’t you know?

Somehow, that bothered me too… but, can you think of a better beginning? And gosh, did Jenny really have to die? Then again, had she not, it would’ve been an average love story. Now, it certainly is not. A Radcliffe music major and a Harvard jock falling in love… they really had not much in common. Except that both of them were atheists, and both of them were totally in love. What gets to me most is how little time Erich Segal gave them together. Another twenty-odd years wouldn’t be amiss… but ah well….. I loved the book.

The beginning grips you totally...as does the end! but still..... did she *have* to die...