Rating: 
Summary: Good Stuff
Review: I read this book, and found myself drawn to the author. A bright, talented kid, doing extremely dangerous things, in the spirit of getting the story. I was struck, most, by her honesty. She portrays her life, warts and all, and doesn't apologive for the person she is.I passed this book on to a friend, who raved about it, and passed it on to her step daughter. This is a book about women, for women, and for guys willing to see world events from another perspective.
Rating: 
Summary: Shutterbrat: Adventures in Casual Sex and Self Importance
Review: The quality of the writing is poor. There is nothing extraordinary about the authors adventures. Spending a couple of weeks with Afghan rebels does not constitute war coverage. The title implies that the author experienced war. It certainly wasn't in Afghanistan, France, Switzerland or Zimbabwe or Potomac, Maryland. Maybe there was actual combat in Romania or Delaware. I stopped in the middle of the chapter about one of her sexual conquests in Bucharest.
Rating:
Summary: A woman travels the world to take pictures and have sex.
Review: Although Shutterbabe is worth reading, I can't help wishing the author stuck to her journalistic adventures and not her personal life, which after a chapter or two became tedious. DCK had some amazing experiences - her descriptions of the Romanian orphanage and how she felt while photographing the horror were written clearly and with honesty. Still, I wish she had added a bit more context. Her lovers get more copy than her photo assignments!
Rating: 
Summary: Good read
Review: Someone else said that 4 years does not a memoir make. I disagree, Debra lived a complete life in four years and then moved on to a new life. As a photographer I found the story both entertaining and informative. The trails and tribulations that she goes through remind me of why I chose not to be a Photojournalist fulltime. Still I enjoyed reading it and would recomend it to anyone. Debra lives her life like in much the same manner that a man in her position/job would and succeeds for the most part. Society doesn't approve of women living this way but that is a seperate issue.
Rating:
Summary: Have some critics missed the point of "Shutterbabe"?
Review: Ms. Copaken Kogan shares with the reader her hardships and failures between her joys and triumphs. My question to the writers of the negative reviews of "Shutterbabe" is the following: is she asking for our judgment or approval? I'm not sure that she is. Throughout her story she alternates between being curious, confident, and courageous some times, and being naive, stubborn and reckless other times. Did she make mistakes? Absolutely. Did she often make life harder for herself than it had to be? No doubt. But would she have had it any other way? I think not. And here is what I believe is the true value of this revealing book for ambitious young women (such as myself): it is the knowledge that taking risks necessarily leads to blunders and disappointments, but that these are nothing to be ashamed of. Rather, blunders and disappointments are to be expected and even welcomed. Indeed, perseverance despite them may be the foundation of true success and fulfillment. What a relief it is to know that such an accomplished woman was not always so-- that those of us who have also made our share of bad choices (and who among us has not?) can recover and benefit from them. The only thing missing from this engaging autobiography is some thoughtful advice to other young women endeavoring to find themselves and succeed in male-dominated fields of work. Maybe in a follow-up book? (Note: In the interests of full disclosure, I must reveal that Deborah Copaken Kogan's parents are friends of my parents'. I myself have only met the author and her family 2 or 3 times in my life. I leave it to the readers of this review to decide if this personal relationship taints or biases the opinions expressed here.)
Rating: 
Summary: Four Sexual Years Does Not A Memoir Make
Review: Late in this book, the author concludes that parents of children should not be photojournalists if it requires that parent to be exposed to harm's way. Ms. Kogan reasons that a parent has a responsibility to not participate in activities that could ultimately harm or deprive a child of all that that child deserves. The same theory could be applied to this memoir. What message does Ms. Kogan hope to impart upon her children with this story? That she, like many of us in our developmental years had multiple sexual partners and complex experiences, some pleasureable, some not? That she, like most of us, has experienced all of the highs, lows, arrogance, self doubt, idealism and fearlessness that is the post college career fast track? That she, like most of us, worked long hours, for little pay, struggling hard to find her voice amongst the more established stars? That she, like many of us, has survived on adrenaline and self righteousness and camaraderie and sex and the belief that we alone, were special? So defines being twentysomething. Dangerous assignments not withstanding, the author has not lived long enough to complete a memoir. Four years at anything does not a perspective make. Had Ms. Kogan remained in her field for twenty years, she could have surpassed the inefficiencies and insecurities of youth that sometimes restricted her own best intentions. The added experience would have allowed the author to stop constantly having to prove herself by assigning everyone to camps (the macho male photographers vrs. the tiny female; the polished and impeccably groomed Diane Sawyers vrs. the dirty, bloody field reporters) and instead start listening to the world around her. Twentysomethings shout at the world, "Make way. Here I am." Oldersomethings learn along the way that the best shout is sometimes a whisper. Maybe Ms. Kogan will be fortunate enough to someday return to the lands that she once walked upon. If she does, armed with the wisdom of more living, I believe she will then be capable of telling a compelling story. Maybe then, her sexual adventures along the way would serve more fittingly as background to lessons learned, rather than their present use as plotline. Perhaps our sexual stories, with all of their joys and all of their pain are better left to private diaries, far from the reach of our children or others that shouldn't always be invited into our memories. Perhaps the best stories evolve over time and perhaps this gifted young lady will continue to refine and focus her storytelling skills so that we can look forward to her future journalistic endeavors and adventures.
Rating:
Summary: BarbieCam in the jungles
Review: As a literary theme, "adventures in love and war" is a timeless subject, allowing infinite variations, fascinating nexus of extremes in human relations, and life's game of chance. Alas, "Shutterbabe" does not risk belonging to the best of this genre. I wouldn't hold against the author her boasting of sexual exploits, never missing an attempt to seduce surrounding men from their girlfriends, or even for naming chapters after her casual lovers. All this can add spice and fullness to the narrative. The problem is that there is little else beside self-absorbed chatter, looking more like a reminiscence of a romp during an extended spring break vacation than a credible journalistic work. As a young girl just out of college, she was expected at first to know little about the places she planned to visit. But it almost seems she makes a point of deliberately staying clueless throughout her travels. In Zimbabwe, where she went specifically to see elephant poachers being hunted down by special military squads, she find herself totally unprepared in the middle of nowhere, until being rescued by Australian soldiers. May be if she wasn't so busy sleeping with other women's boyfriends, she could at least learn something about the regional geography and what to put in her backpack. Her version of feminism, expounded at length throughout the book, sounds more like a trivial egotism rather than a principled position. She expects as a given support, comfort and sex from men she encounters when she needs it, but is never too long to resort to petulant tirades in the "male chauvinist pigs" fashion whenever things turn out not exactly to her liking. Deborah Copaken Cogan describes her brief - less than four years - career as a photojournalist in miscellaneous messy spots around the globe. She offers no shortage of sentiments about making it in a "notoriously macho", male-dominated world of adventure and war photography, but one is left with doubt whether she was really trying. She started to seek adventures at the end of her Harvard years in readily available and marginally thrilling places, such as the "Combat Zone" - puritanical Boston's puny version of a red-light district, with drug addicts, pimps and flashers. Then In February 1989 she goes abroad to war-torn Afghanistan hoping to "... see some dead or bloody mujahed, or some dead or bloody Russian soldier, or some mujahed firing off his Kalashnikovs, or one of those great big Soviet tanks whose names I can never remember, or, well, something that looks vaguely warlike". Apparently, nobody told her that Soviet Army was practically withdrawn by that time. Russians didn't blast the mountain slopes with artillery shells - various bands of mujaheds did it to each other. No Mi-24 helicopters swooping down the valley to destroy rebel convoys and guerillas shooting them out of the sky with "Stingers". Instead we are treated with war stories about crushed packs of tampons and passing Tic-Tacs as medicine to dirt-covered children. She makes herself a nuisance to her hosts because of their strict privacy customs, resulting in one rebel soldier getting his legs blown off by a mine when checking a pathway for her so she could go pee off the road. D. Copaken is genuinely surprised that these Stinger-supplied rebels often shout "Down with America!" while perpetually cleaning their AK-47. Oh, she must have thought all they wanted to do was go to the Disney World, if only Soviet troops just let them. One of the persistent impressions throughout the book is how little empathy she feels towards the objects she seeks with her camera. Her only human interest is some thrills for herself and another photo opportunity for her career. In Zimbabwe the author finally got her lens on a freshly killed (almost by her request) poacher - an unlucky fellow probably just trying to feed his family, and now left to rot in the jungles. In her own words she "descended on him like a vulture" for the best photo shot. When finding herself in one of the Romania's worst orphanages, for the most crippled and deformed children, she descends into shrilly hysterics - not because she feels anything for these kids, but because hideous surroundings offend her aesthetic comfort. Later, in Moscow, in the midst of the August 1991 coup the author encounters a crowd of protesters carrying anti-coup slogans, written in Russian. She then seriously advises the carrier of one banner to rewrite the slogan in English instead - otherwise what's the point of the whole thing if cameras of western reporters would not be attracted to some familiar words. Is she for real? From somebody who has been around the world, one could expect a bit more sophistication than this uniquely American form of solipsism - that things aren't happening unless they are on CNN. Not from this girl - throughout the book she seems to make a point of firmly sticking to the flattest of media stereotypes. Incidentally, I've recently read a better work of reporting and memoirs involving love, sex, adventure and war, by a Russian journalist Daria Aslamova (some excerpts available at www.aslamova.df.ru) in her "Adventures of a bad girl" series. She describes her experience from countless flings in the university dormitory to liaisons with celebrities and politicians and to wars in Caucasus, Nagorny Karabakh and the former Yugoslavia. Once she was captured and raped at a gunpoint by a militant of one warring side - a condition for sparing the lives of her companions, captured together. From love and lust to danger and death, she covered it with far more warmth, wit, and vigor than the author of the "Shutterbabe". Interestingly, judging by the descriptions in both books of the coup in Moscow, she and D. Copaken Kogan could be within a few feet from each other during the decisive night of August 20, 1991. Game of chance can produce interesting patterns, indeed.
Rating:
Summary: Shudderbabe
Review: Hmmm.. I think I understand why some like or even love this memoir. It's certainly a window into the life of a chick photog covering scary wars - how often does one get to glimpse into that scene? Her beginning is so great - there's a war on and I'm bleeding. Refreshingly irreverent. But then she said she was homecoming queen. all those old biases surface. Reading the nitty gritty details of her lovers got to be a bit dull. I felt like a voyeur and I had no sympathy for her. I found myself asking why did she publish transcripts of her therapy sessions? What really got to me is how self-aggrandizing she is - she saw the poor Romanian orphans first, she was in Moscow at the coup, she almost went to Tianamen sq., etc. I guess that's what memoir writing is - me, me, me. I think if she waited another five years she could have written the first part of this differently, better. I felt sad reading about Gad and some others and the orphanage section is troubling and affected me. But what's her point? Life is dangerous, I could have died and people I know did die, so now i'm going to hibernate forever with my children. I remind myself that she was young at the time and in the beginning of the book she does come from a young person's point of view. think later. i just can't relate to that - protect yourself, i say. my favorite part - something about the 'padded walls of suburbia' - yes, life in Potomac didn't prepare her for the big bad world
Rating:
Summary: I think I like Deborah
Review: I heard two NPR segments on this book; one fairly critical review and Deborah's interview on the Diane Rehm show. After the second segment, I went out immediately and bought the book. I work about 14 hours a day and I spent all my non-working waking hours reading. The book is fabulous, but I think it speaks mostly to women of a certain age (I happen to be that age...late 20s). The writing is not polished, but it is very honest, very forthright, very introspective. Her frankness is refreshing. She writes about her mistakes and her victories with the same even, thoughtful, analytical approach. She has some keen insights into the world of photojournalism and she has a critical eye towards her own role in that world. She shows her beautiful pictures of elephants and dead poachers in the same context: "this is what I did, beautifully, to earn a living. Even when it gave me nightmares." And when she decides to leave that world you understand completely why she did it. Maybe she is too young to put her whole life into context; her treatment of her married life IS somewhat disappointing and a bit smug; but overall the work is such an honest photograph of someone's life, good, bad, and ugly, without the least bit of glorification. She is who she is and she DOES make apologies. When I finished the book I felt as if I could meet her at a party and pick up the conversation where we left it off, at the end of the last chapter. And I would like to continue that conversation.
Rating: 
Summary: If you are headed for a warzone....
Review: ...definitely get this book! Its a quick read, but lets you feel what its like to leave the comfortable confines of the USA and use your wits in hotspot situations. Its also a great look at the world of photo-journalists from the inside. In particular, I loved the description (p.68) of the hidden signs and rituals by which you are evaluated in the photo fraternity pecking order. But if you are heading out to study abroad, or work for an NGO or corporate overseas posting, you really should throw a copy in your suitcase. It will give you some good perspective. Another good one: Farnsworth's "From Vagabond to Journalist : Edgar Snow in Asia"
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