Jean Kerr is one of the first women to hitch herself up to a typewriter and spin the straw of her not completely suburban existence into publishing gold. She is now as she was back when her children were eating the daisies, an intelligent, irreverent, articulate writer, and ["How I Got to Be Perfect"] is exactly what the public has come to expect of her. Exactly!

Here is a sample of her chapter headings: "Partying Is Such Sweet Sorrow," "My Marshmallow Fudge Wonder Diet," "The Child as Houseguest." As I read the essays, admiring her cleverness, appreciating her eye for the absurd and remembering once again why this self-effacing, tongue-in-cheek lady is so popular, I nevertheless became increasingly irritated with her for having produced such a perfect little Jean Kerr book. Kerr is nimble, Kerr is quick, but why, given the fact that Kerr is Kerr, does she...