A funny thought occurred to me about half way through Medium Raw: 'What's the point?' As a memoir Bourdain is all over the place. As a meditation on foodie culture, Bourdain is so involved in it, he doesn't feel the need to to explain exactly who Emeril, Otto, Sandra or Ms. Kitty are. There's an assumption that you've read Kitchen Confidential, followed his shows and read his articles that borderlines on utter arrogance.
And then there's the question as to who his target audience is. Readers of his previous book? Yes. Obsessives about his TV show? Yes. Someone interested in food? Well, not really. His book is like that joke:
Q: How many hipsters does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
A: It's an obscure number you probably haven't heard of.
Much like Christopher Hitchen's God is Not Great, Medium Raw is written by a fascinating person: Engaging, intelligent, someone whose presence exudes gravitas and who is able to argue his point home with a tenacity that cannot help but to polarize. But, like God is Not Great, I was left wondering what exactly the point was, other than to provide a few crates of ammunition for the converted. Anyone questioning, curious or, God forbid, out of the loop is not invited to the dinner party.
That said, I really enjoyed the book. It was engaging, interesting and rife with unrealized potential. If, perhaps, the goal was to convert others through tantalizing hors d'oeuvres, then perhaps he's succeeded. I for one will be filling in the Bourdain shaped hole in my life.
They also made a movie about the book but, based on the trailer, looks like they took some liberties:
You got me to watch horror you bastion of tartared monkeys.
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