I’m Glad You Conquered Your Phobia but I Don’t Need to Hear about It

Title: The God of Driving: How I Overcame Fear and Put Myself in the Driver’s Seat with the Help of a Good and Mysterious Man
Author: Amy Fine Collins
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Publication Year: 2004
Rating: C-

After 24 years of never learning to drive, I finally overcame my fear of driving (although outwardly I denied that’s what it was) a few years ago. I had a patient and wonderful teacher and am now on the verge of purchasing my first car. It was my own experience with the fear of driving that piqued my interest in Amy Fine Collins’ The God of Driving. I’ve always enjoyed her articles in Vanity Fair, so I thought I’d give her memoir a shot. Turned out to not be such a good idea after all, outside of the fact that I finally get to write a review about a book I don’t like. Switch things up a bit.

The God of Driving is the story of how Collins overcame her fear of driving through the assistance of a Turkish driving instructor. Over the course of her driving lessons, a friendship and infatuation developed between the two. Collins became fascinated with this man, Attila, and his dramatic history. He has lived everywhere and experienced everything. He speaks several different languages, is well-traveled, and has worked a variety of jobs at varying levels of success. For some unexplainable reason, Attila is able to help his driving students overcome their fears – not only of driving but in other aspects of their lives as well. He has a 98 percent success rate when it comes to his students passing their driving tests.

This is all fine and dandy, and granted there might be a story here somewhere, but after finishing this book I got the feeling that there is no way any Joe Schmoe off the street could present this story to an editor and have them bite. The only reason this story was published was because Collins wrote it. It is presented so poorly that I found myself frustrated the entire way through. Attila comes across as arrogant and self righteous rather than this gentle, intriguing creature that Collins intended. Collins herself appeared to be the puppy dog lapping up anything Attila said or did, constantly flopping against his heels.

Collins’ normally sharp wit and attention to detail fell short as well. It’s essential to include details of fashion and appearance in a book to set the stage for the reader. But it became beyond annoying when the only two designers this fashion/society writer mentioned in the entire novel were Geoffrey Beene and Manolo Blahnik. Give me a fucking break! I know Beene’s your close friend, but you have been writing about fashion for years. He couldn’t have designed your entire wardrobe. And you must have more shoes in your collection than Blahnik’s, honey.

But this is a relatively small point compared to the larger one: This book is one big “gush” with some facts sprinkled in about ridiculously expensive cars. I should have known what to expect by just reading the subhead. How I Overcame Fear and Put Myself in the Driver’s Seat with the Help of a Good and Mysterious Man. Again, give me a fucking break. I do believe Collins could have told an incredible story here. Attila does have an intriguing history and a way with people. But due to Collins’ exaggerations of his attributes she completely misses the mark.