I finally bought and read this a couple of weeks ago. I suspect most people who read this blog and would be interested have already read it, but in case that's not true, I'll say that anyone interested in Flannery O'Connor should read it, both for what it reveals about her and for what it is in itself.
Most of it is the searching self-scrutiny of a young and devout soul, and insofar as it is that, it is more or less what one would expect. In saying so, I don't mean that it isn't good, only that it isn't striking. What is striking, though, are the moments when typically O'Connor sparks suddenly fly from the page. I'm resisting the temptation to quote any of them, because they're better encountered in context. Several are extremely funny, or at least I found them so, and all are a bit startling, making you realize that there is more in this young woman than piety alone. This shouldn't be surprising, considering that she was already working on stories that would soon become Wise Blood.
To call it a slender book doesn't really convey just how small it is: the journal proper, typeset, is only 37 pages of relatively large type on relatively small pages with relatively large margins. The facsimile is longer, and though I didn't expect to find it interesting, I did. The original notebook was a black Sterling one of a type many people my age and older may recognize (but then for all I know it may still be available). Reading the facsimile is worthwhile if only because at least one of the funny bits is even funnier there, by reason of its placement.
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