Come Fly With Me

In "Come Fly Away with Me," you'll be intoxicated by the allure of air travel during the jet age. Pan Am wasn't just transportation – flying with them was an event dripping with glamour and possibility. The novel transports us to an era when Pan Am stewardesses embodied both sophistication and liberation, their powder-blue uniforms and perfectly coiffed hair becoming symbols of mid-century modern elegance.

Through the intertwining stories of Beverly and Judy, we witness how Pan Am's strict requirements for its stewardesses – young, single, beautiful, educated – created an elite corps of women who became the face of luxury air travel. The airline's exacting standards, while problematic by today's measures, contributed to an aura of exclusivity that made flying Pan Am feel like joining an exclusive club at 35,000 feet.

The novel weaves together the personal liberation these women sought with the broader cultural context of the 1960s. Pan Am stewardesses were among the most traveled women in the world at a time when most women rarely left their hometowns. They served cocktails in the clouds, spoke multiple languages, and navigated international customs - with ease and grace. Their sophisticated image was carefully cultivated – from their white gloves to their ability to serve a perfect omelet – the detail revealed in this book shows the high standards set by jet-age glamour.

What makes this book particularly compelling is its exploration of the paradox these women lived: they were simultaneously symbols of female empowerment and objects of male fantasy. The author doesn't shy away from showing how Pan Am's stewardesses used this duality to their advantage, leveraging their positions to gain independence, travel the world, and escape societal constraints, all while working within a system commodifying their appearance and youth.

The epistolary elements scattered throughout the narrative add mystery and depth, culminating in a revelation that grounds these glamorous heights in stark emotional reality. This literary device effectively demonstrates how beneath the perfectly maintained exterior of Pan Am's golden age lay complex personal stories of ambition, escape, and reinvention.

For anyone fascinated by the romance of air travel's golden age, this novel is a first-class ticket to an era when flying was sexy, sophisticated, and full of promise (there isn't a screaming TSA agent, X-ray machine, cramped coach seat in sight). It reminds us of a time when Pan Am's stewardesses were more than service providers – they were ambassadors of the jet age, representing American glamour and sophistication across the globe. Through its compelling narrative and rich historical detail (seriously, this is a well-researched novel), "Come Fly Away with Me" celebrates the allure of that era and the remarkable women who helped define it.

Thank you, NetGalley, for an early read.

Perfect Escapism. Even as certain elements of this book are damn near torn from the headlines of the past several weeks - for the record, *long* after Di Maio had completed writing this book, as I've had it myself for nearly four months already - this book really is pure, damn near perfect, escapism. For most people. For those in at least one sadly far too common situation - one my own grandmother experienced during the period detailed in this book - it could potentially be triggering. Yet even in this, Di Maio provides a solid set of escapism, and even in this, there is ultimately purpose in the story beyond "you can survive".

Instead, the vast majority of this tale focuses primarily on one particular lady and the situations she finds herself in during the early 1960s as she attempts a career as a Pan Am stewardess. We see in detail the exacting standards of the position and the more-intense-than-one-may-realize training they underwent. We see the (then) exotic locales that are still wildly different than what most Americans today are accustomed to - and yet those locations have also been increasingly "Americanized" and generally commercialized over the ensuing decades, to the point that this book really hits the nostalgic appeal of the locations in the eras portrayed and, as the text takes place nearly entirely in the early 1960s, largely glosses over all that they have become.

Our other primary narrator from this period is another view of the trials women went through in this period, and here Di Maio does a particularly superb job of showing that looks can indeed be deceiving, and sometimes one must actively seek out the real truth in matters.

Our final perspective - yes, this is technically multi-perspective, but there really are just the three - is a modern day person looking back on the halcyon days portrayed in the rest of the story. It is through her eyes that we see both all that was, story wise, and... even a glimpse of Di Maio herself, as she notes in the Author Note. (No, not even spoiling that here, although that particular tale sounds pretty fucking awesome. :) )

Ultimately this is one of those books that does a truly phenomenal job of providing maximal escapism through exotic travel in a long-gone era... and it is one that is going to tug your heart strings quite a bit at times, both making your heart race from a variety of situations and in making the room quite dusty indeed at points.

For those who may have worried where Di Maio was or if she was coming back at all or if she could come back and stay just as good as she once was, with her last major release being almost exactly three years to the day before the publication date of this book... I'll tell you now: I've now read over half of Di Maio's major releases, first encountering her with 2019's The Beautiful Strangers, and at least of the books I've read from her... this may well be the best one yet.

Very much recommended.