++
Three girls from the sticks come of age in the big city; Chicago, in this case. One is a bored country girl who would like to find an exciting man, one is just religious enough to want to wait for the right man, and the third is so messed up she doesn't want any man, ever. Naturally they hook up with all the wrong guys. It seems a little odd that this book about women, written by a woman should make such a case for misogyny, but oh these girls are stupid. Of course, then you remember how young they are and how innocent, and you can't help but hate the men who would take advantage of them. Most of them are hateful anyway, though, which explains the subversive purpose of the book, and its particular pulp genre, for one of the girls eventually discovers the sweet release of the love that, once upon a time, dared not speak its name. True to form, the novel covers a good deal of sordid ground, delving into such topics as premarital sex, drug use, rape, unintended pregnancy, and a creepy sort of would-be incest. Yet, for all that, this book is neither raw nor particularly messy; it is, in fact, remarkably restrained, almost impersonal. Not by design, but because Taylor is only capable of scratching the surface of her subject matter and her characters. Worse, she writes as though she'd made a deal with the Devil: guilt-free lesbianism in exchange for the tacit acceptance of every other lifestyle, however odious. The reader has nothing to hang his (or her) hat on: if the girls themselves condemn nothing, what can the reader do? Except perhaps write a review of the book condemning it as a travelogue of depravity that, somehow, against all odds, manages to work out all right in the end. Republished by the Feminist Press in 2012, as The Girls in 3B.
Three girls from the sticks come of age in the big city; Chicago, in this case. One is a bored country girl who would like to find an exciting man, one is just religious enough to want to wait for the right man, and the third is so messed up she doesn't want any man, ever. Naturally they hook up with all the wrong guys. It seems a little odd that this book about women, written by a woman should make such a case for misogyny, but oh these girls are stupid. Of course, then you remember how young they are and how innocent, and you can't help but hate the men who would take advantage of them. Most of them are hateful anyway, though, which explains the subversive purpose of the book, and its particular pulp genre, for one of the girls eventually discovers the sweet release of the love that, once upon a time, dared not speak its name. True to form, the novel covers a good deal of sordid ground, delving into such topics as premarital sex, drug use, rape, unintended pregnancy, and a creepy sort of would-be incest. Yet, for all that, this book is neither raw nor particularly messy; it is, in fact, remarkably restrained, almost impersonal. Not by design, but because Taylor is only capable of scratching the surface of her subject matter and her characters. Worse, she writes as though she'd made a deal with the Devil: guilt-free lesbianism in exchange for the tacit acceptance of every other lifestyle, however odious. The reader has nothing to hang his (or her) hat on: if the girls themselves condemn nothing, what can the reader do? Except perhaps write a review of the book condemning it as a travelogue of depravity that, somehow, against all odds, manages to work out all right in the end. Republished by the Feminist Press in 2012, as The Girls in 3B.