Rating: 
Summary: Tabloid Proust
Review: Gus Bailey returns to a city from his past, Los Angeles, to cover the OJ trial for Vanity Fair. A native of Connecticut, Gus has behind him a failed career as film producer in tinseltown, as well as the trauma of a murdered child and a trial of her killer which he felt betrayed the principle of justice. Arranging his accommodation at the Chateau Marmont, Gus finds copies of a previous novel of his displayed in a vitrine in the lobby; as homage he's put up in the room of the hotel which he featured in that novel. And so the recursive mirroring between life and fiction that structures this novel begins. Gus has remade himself as a quality journalist, a kind of tabloid Proust who eavesdrops at the tables of the rich and famous and retails his information in suavely persuasive opinion pieces. In fact, it was Dominick Dunne who chronicled the trial for Vanity Fair, and indeed it was Dominick Dunne who experienced just about everything Gus Bailey experiences in this novel. Dunne calls Another City, Not My Own "a novel in the form of a memoir," and the book clearly relives one chapter of the Dunne life saga. Bailey has Dunne's past and predilections, although the novelistic frame makes it unclear what purports to be truth and what is subject to the laws of fiction. Bailey carries a notebook with him to record encounters as they happen, often describing their planned appearance in the novel he is writing about the case - a novel called, appropriately, Another City, Not My Own. Fiction becomes the repository of what may not be said in journalism - libel, gossip, rumor - as well as of a poetic truth in events which real life often fails to achieve, although there's much to be thought poetic and uncanny in the story of the trial. Dominick Dunne writes of Gus Bailey's living room: "the orchid plants, the Chinese export porcelain, the leather-bound first editions of Anthony Trollope and Edith Wharton." It's interesting to speculate on Dunne's own debt to the two novelists mentioned, authors each responsible for exhaustive chronicles of a mode de vie. Social comedy and satire are Dunne's tools of trade, although at times the book reads something like a cross between the Warhol diaries and Truman Capote with a bug up his ... The cavalcade of names dropped, connections traced, and glittering social occasions works because the book is intensely readable: compelling for those who wish to imagine themselves one step closer to the "truth" of the trial, even when it is cast in ambiguous fiction. Few of the characters of this novel are fictional, and few of the events, one suspects. Its conclusion is necessarily contrived, a rather abrupt and melodramatic reminder of how unreal fiction may become. I liked, though, Dunne's urge to expand his chronicle with this gesture to the improbable, a moment of satirical invention that finally severs
Rating: 
Summary: The Final Verdict
Review: For OJ to be guilty, you must believe that he quickly disposed of the bloody clothes, shoes, and knives so they would NEVER be found, yet brought the socks and glove back to his home! And then smeared blood all over the console! The coroner who did the autopsies testified "the forensic evidence says the murders occurred after 11PM". The limousine driver testified he brought OJ to the airport at that time. When you read this book, note how they avoid discussing these facts.
Rating:
Summary: What could have been...
Review: Dominick Dunne is angry. He wants to tell the world why this trial was a farce. Or so you would think based on what his alter ego discusses in this tale of the O.J. Simpson murder trial. Instead we get this farcical collection of name dropping, recycled material (This would have been better if it just collected Dunne's magazine pieces), and the conceit of calling this a work of fiction, with the jaw dropping stupidity of an ending that ranks high on the list of ridiculous plot turns in the history of fiction. What a waste of time.
Rating:
Summary: PUH-LEEZE!
Review: I have thoroghly enjoyed this author's previous books, especially the brilliant A SEASON IN PURGATORY from which an also excellent film version was made. Because I so admired Dominick Dunne's writing skills and had found his other books so compelling (I've read some of them more than once) I was eager to read ANOTHER CITY, NOT MY OWN and gladly paid for a hardbound copy as soon as they were available. That said, it is difficult to find adequate words to sum up my disappointment in this book. Inane, pretentious, self-promoting, fatuous and poorly written are some adjectives that come to mind. It is difficult to believe that the same author who produced AN INCONVENIENT WOMAN, THE TWO MRS. GRENVILLES, and A SEASON IN PURGATORY has turned out this poor, lazily-written piece of drivel. What *was* this author (not to mention the publisher)thinking about? Was an editor involved at all? Save your money: this book isn't even worth its price in paperback. Shame on you, Mr. Dunne!
Rating:
Summary: Didn't deserve publication
Review: It didn't deserve a star. Maybe a black hole -- maybe five black holes. I tried to read this drivel but was unsuccessful. It's unusual when I don't finish a book I started, and I can't recall ever talking back to a book the way I talk to an especially bad TV program, but that's what happened this time. I am just amazed any editor or publisher would have let this thing out of the closet, at least with the publisher's imprimatur on it. Bad structure, bad sentences, minimal vocabulary, the egregious name-dropping (whom is he trying to impress?), digs at his brother, repeating himself (we learn twice in the first 30 pages or so that he has a house in Prud'Homme, Connecticut, twice he repeats the full name and circumstances of that useless male socialite, twice he says he's writing a novel about the Menendez brothers, both times giving us the full name -- in all of the repetitions it's as if he forgot he'd already mentioned them) -- all this on top of his utter failure to behave like the "investigative reporter" he claims to be, without the slightest pretense of having an open mind or questioning attitude or any journalistic professionalism. Given the important subject matter -- a tragic double murder -- I have to say this is by far the worst book I have ever read, or rather, tried to read. I almost always can find some redeeming feature about a book or film or TV program, but not this time -- there is simply nothing good about it (it's even worse than the film "Here on Earth", and that stunk!). I could not justify devoting any more time or energy to it. Life is too short.
Rating: 
Summary: Yet another OJ disappointment.
Review: I'm beginning to think a witch put a spell on the whole OJ thing: murder, betrayal, injustice, then, as if that weren't enough: a disappointing book by a pretty talented author. I'm sure there are reasons why this book was "novel memoir" (ever heard of the word oxymoron?) -- thoughts of libel and ect., but the result lacked the backbone of straight journalism or the entertainment of straight fiction. The constant name-dropping is, of course, absurd; Truman Capote could do it, but somehow, Gore Vidal and D. Dunn cannot. Try as I might, I couldn't find a conclusion to any of it, or one memorable line or insight, and as for the ending, please. I gave it two stars because I actually read it to the end, though it seems a criminal waste of talent that a writer a good as D. Dunn went to the trial of the century and brought us back this drivel.
Rating:
Summary: Another writer, not my own
Review: Like Dunne and so many others of us unfortunates, I spent an inexcusable amount of time on the O.J.Simpson triall. I knew of Dunne's involvement because of his outsized presence in the courtroom, and his many television appearances. I would never have bothered to read his book because of his unabashed bias for the prosecution; but when it showed up at my bookstore for a more than reasonable price--less than a Snicker Bar by a multiple of 5, I succumbed. I actually enjoyed the book, and hope other readers will. However, that pleasure is accompanied by a serious lament. You see, I happen to be an American of African descent. I have in my living room a large painting of two blacks, one male and one female, hanging from a tree: the pictorial Billy Holiday memorialized in the song, "Strange Fruit." Dunne confesses, though confess he did not mean, in the book, this his and his colleagues' attitudes about Simpson's guilt had resulted in a "white riot." And indeed it did! Yet Dunne, who professed his belief in Simpson's guilt from the first moment he heard of the tragic deaths of Nicole Brown and Ron Goldman, at no time ever entertained the thought that perhaps his belief was not well founded. In fact, his book is a constant repetition of this knowledge, without a scant acknowledgement that in the world in which serious and moral people live, it is rare that reality is that uncomplicated. And whatever one believes, an objective observer would have to conclude that the Simpsons and Goldmans live in a very complicated environment. I enjoyed Dunne's book for the same reason that some reviewers dissed it: his inveterate name dropping. But in conclusion, I assume that is who he is...which is sad, but not my problem What I regret, even as I understand his pain at the loss of his daughter by a thug who was inadequately punished, is that he lives his life with this blithe, perverse since of what justice generally, and criminal justice, specifically, are about. He used his book to ape ever fundamental racist attitude and notion I have ever heard in America--the stupidity of the jurors; his faith in juror #3, the white one; the presumptive criminality of blacks--if there is a racist canard in America, Dunne mouthed it at one time or another, lamentably, perhaps, unintentionally. Many people of my kind and color became "strange fruit" because of the presumptiveness of guilt--the alleged "mountain of evidence" that prosecutors like those in the Simpson trial promised, but when put to the test, could not deliver. White does not make right--always...Mr. Dunne might learn. Had he spent less time at dinner parties, and more time reading so of the 50 or so books written about the trial, perhaps he could have resisted the allure of the "mob." But he knows "OJ did it," and because he is white, and presumptively right, case closed. My advise: enjoy the book for what it is; despise it for what it isn't.
Rating:
Summary: An outline for another book.
Review: I love Dominck Dunne's writing. I read him all the time in Vanity Fair and have read a few of his novels, so when I heard that he had written about the OJ trial I rushed to read it. However, this book unlike his other novels do not tell the story of the crime and the trial, it is a name dropping session. Dunne reports all the parties his fictional counter part Gus Bailey is invited to and who he sits next to. Worse still is the fact that this book is an outline of the book he was going to write about the Mendez trial. A several points during the story he writes about the chapter Gus has just written for his book about the Mendez's brothers. I wish he had written the book about the Mendez it probably would have been a better book.
Rating: 
Summary: If you love GOSSIP...you'll love this!
Review: I just finished listening to the book on tape for the SECOND TIME. I listen while I walk for exercise...and this made it easy. (added 30 min. to each walk) I loved the gossip and name dropping, and thought the inclusion of Andrew Kunanin was clever. For those of you who "bashed it"...lower your expectations and enjoy it for what it is...a GREAT RIDE! Long live the works of Dominick Dunne...he never fails to entertain me.
Rating:
Summary: Another Country Heard From
Review: I was enjoying the book greatly and would have given five stars until the ending. The book suddenly completely changes tone and almost turns into another book altogether. I can't say more without giving things away. It was good though, and gave an interesting perspective on the Simpson trial. I was especially affected by his admiration for Simpson's family... When the trial was happening I guess I lumped them all in with OJ and considered them as evil as he was. But the book made me realize they were trying to be a loyal family and support him no matter what. Dunne speculates on the deep denial they must have been living in through the trial. Maybe even now. The name dropping seemed to irritate some readers, but I love that stuff!
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