I highly recommend the book of the same title—a collection of her essays. I read it year or two ago, and it's excellent: gorgeous writing, and definitely a touchstone of the time. "I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not," from "On Keeping a Notebook," is something I think about a lot.

The essay itself is, of course, fantastic, but I find that, although she specifically tells us not to, it is impossible not to dwell on young children taking acid.

After her quote about Christmas in Sacramento, I wanted to enjoy Joan so much. I discovered a scold instead. Her viewpoint is contempt, and its tiring (slouching). Sometimes its boring (a year of magical thinking). I found a guilty pleasure in her writing about Nancy Reagan, because I also despise Nancy Reagan.

The last time I tried to enjoy her was an essay criticizing the first carpool lanes in California.

I hope her work is lost to voices who see possibilities

Such an incredible essay (and book) and author. I highly recommend all of her essay writing. She captures the dark death of the California hippy era in a captivating and beautiful way.

Whenever I drive up the 5 leaving Los Angeles I get this strange sense of freedom and I think about Joan Didion and Philip Dick.

I liked "The White Album" even more! Beyond those two I can't universally recommend.

I read those around the same time as I re-read Neuromancer (written only 15 years later) -- i found a similar descriptive style and sense of detachment from their characters set in deeply changing worlds. might have just been my mood.

Then there's Fear and Loathing - same time and place as Didion and also an author whose personality is as important as the writing. quite a different vibe, though

Great reading to see beyond the clichéd, sanitized retellings of that era. It really makes you consider the prices paid for what some call progress.

For people who are not aware, the title is a reference to the absolutely amazing poem “The Second Coming” by W. B. Yeats[1]. It’s one of my favourites, and one particular line from it seems incredibly resonant at the moment

   > The best lack all conviction, while the worst   
   > Are full of passionate intensity.

[1] https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43290/the-second-comi...