« Overheard | Main | Monday Blues »
Butterfield 8 by John O’Hara
You just gotta love books about sex. And that’s what BUtterfield 8 is about: sex, sex and more sex.
Don’t get too excited. The book was published in 1935, in the midst of the Great Depression, so the sex scenes aren’t explicit. Certainly not like the porny Harlequin romance novels I was addicted to at the virginal age of thirteen. (Which, I have to admit, caused some insanely high expectations on my part later on down the line.)
But still. The sex theme is there, and more frank than I’d have expected from a book of this era. Pedophilia, molestation, voyeurism, homosexuality, and group sex all make an appearance, even if it’s just carefully alluded to, a whisper rather than a scream.
The story follows an assorted cast of New Yorkers just being hit by the Great Depression. They’re jaded and vaguely disappointed, and their lives all intersect in a Robert Altman sort of way: some of the characters become intimates, others are just passed by on the street.
The central figure of BUtterfield 8 is Gloria Wandrous, a very young woman, who despite her age is already world-weary. The book opens when Gloria awakens in a strange, empty apartment, where she spent the previous night with a married man, one Weston Liggett. Liggett is gone, and Gloria’s dress is ruined – torn by Liggett the night before – so Gloria helps herself to Liggett’s wife’s mink coat. She shrugs the valuable fur on over her underwear and rolls out the apartment, thus setting off a chain of events that will eventually lead to Gloria’s downfall.
Despite dated popular cultural references, many of which sailed over my head, I was riveted for all 228 pages. The writing is sharp, the pacing taut, and the characterizations among the best I’ve read. Grade: A
Posted 10 April 2006 at 10:13 AM