The book satisfies the appetite for two types of voyeurism: the desire to peek into the lives of the rich and famous, and the wish to see them do penance for the sins they committed along the way.
Reading it was a two-day crash course in the American infatuation with Couric’s wholesome smile and cap of tousled brunette hair, spiced by her late-life regrets over how she once handled everything from race and gender to homelessness. By the time I hit page 50, she’d already finagled me into her corner. But resistance to this book, appropriately titled Going There, appears futile. As such, you might think I’d be the last person in America to be won over by it.
Slate has relationships with various online retailers.īut note that deals can expire and all prices are subject to change.Īll prices were up to date at the time of publication.Īs someone who never watched a full episode of the Today show or really any network newscast after leaving home for college, I can say with confidence that Katie Couric meant absolutely nothing to me when I picked up her new memoir.
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