Jane Fonda is at it again, another cause.
A lot of us were rooting for her, were hoping that her book "My Life So Far" would rid her of her demons. Obviously not. And sympathy for Poor Girl/Rich Girl is ebbing. This time even a die-hard fan such as moi isn't defending her "innocence." And, in the July-August THE ATLANTIC, Tom Carson presents a scathing review of "My Life So Far," and of the child-woman behind it.
Could Fonda have grown up and out of all her wounded self-absorption and adolescent antics had she not been a child of privilege? Should we who also suffer from more than the average bruising in life consider ourselves fortunate that we weren't part of the elite, and thus forced to push forward past all that rough emotional stuff? Would I be chasing another fine cause if I didn't have to finish ghostwriting an article for a client to pay my bills?
I guess I should be thankful that my parents weren't particularly talented or beautiful, just screwed up like Fonda's.