7.15.2006

reviews: old and new

    The Way Men Act, by Elinor Lipman, is one of those books that I will choose from my own shelf if I need to read something that will (a) entertain, (b) challenge, (c) transport, and (d) comfort me, all at once. It is the story of Melinda LeBlanc (a floral artist) and her friend Libby Getchel (a clothing designer), and Robin Bonak (Melinda's boss), and Martha Schiff-Shulman (a friend from high school), and even Libby's mother, Rosalie. Perhaps even more, though, it is the story of Dennis Vaughan (owner of Brookhoppers, the trout fishing store) and Roger Bonak (Melinda's cousin, Robin's husband, and Melinda's other boss), and Ian Kornreich (professor accused of sexual harassment), and Lou Shiner (co-owner of Shiner Brothers Seafood). It is about work and expectations gone awry. It is about love, hope and disappointment. It is about food and the funny dresses we wear for special occasions--and why we choose what we choose, in all sorts of areas of life.
     It isn't what I call a "thinky" book, where you put it down and contemplate the greater ramifications of the content for a few moments after each chapter. But it definitely isn't stupid, or a throw-away. There is a great deal here that will, if one is lucky, stick around and make an impression after the last page is turned.

    Steve Almond (of Candyfreak fame) and fiction writer Julianna Baggott collaborated on Which Brings Me to You, an epistolary novel about second--and more--chances. In the prologue, boy meets girl at someone else's wedding. Boy and girl come within millimeters of doing the dirty deed in the coat check, only to experience second thoughts. They decide (and it almost makes complete sense in context) to write to each other instead, confessing their romantic (i.e. sexual) misadventures. It isn't intended as courtship, but rather as an alternative to hooking up.
     This book was recommended to me by a dear friend who reads a hell of a lot more than I do. Though the specifics of what we read do not often intersect, I trust her judgment without question. In her email telling me to read the book, she wrote that she thought, "This is Amy," when she read about the female protagonist.
    I had the same sense, though had she not mentioned it first I would have said, "I had that problem." This book reads, albeit in a funnier, more sardonic, much better edited, but still creepy way, a lot like some parts of my blog. Like, say, the 'unavailability, part 2' post. At times I felt like I was reading my own diary--or, worse, like I was reading my own diary-to-come. I think that the freakiest part of this whole thing is that by the end of the book I understood, and felt communion with, the male character on a much more elemental level than I did the female character.
     I can hear my therapist saying, "Yes, of course you did. Can you tell me why that might be?"
     Ah, well, I could, but that might ruin all of your fun. You should just read it yourself and see what I mean with all this.

BE WARNED: This review includes an out-and-out spoiler. Granted, it spoils a movie from 2002 so I'm not sure how much will really be spoiled, but I thought I should mention it anyway.
    Kissing Jessica Stein. Great premise. Good movie. Terrible, horrible, reprehensible, moronic, ridiculous ending.
     What, you want more than that?
     OK, here it is: Jessica Stein is gorgeous and smart and far too in love with herself to give a damn about anybody else. She's a snob, but she's insecure enough to be a little bit likable. She can't get a date with anybody who's not a complete dork. One of her friends reads a personal ad that contains a quote by Rainer Maria Rilke ("It is not inertia alone that is responsible for human relationships repeating themselves from case to case, indescribably monotonous and unrenewed: it is shyness before any sort of new, unforeseeable experience with which one does not think oneself able to cope. But only someone who is ready for everything, who excludes nothing, not even the most enigmatical.") She is taken by the quote--which to her indicates a level of intelligence and insight sorely lacking in the dating pool--but is obviously disappointed to learn that the ad is for a woman seeking a woman. Later, though, still intrigued, she calls and makes a date with Helen.
     Helen works at a gallery. She has lots of sex with lots of men, but she's tired of the hassle. Helen is comfortable with (and clearly, um, excited by) the prospect of exploring a relationship with Jessica, but the feeling is not entirely mutual. Jessica is neurotic and unsure and practically paranoid about someone finding out that she's seeing another woman.
     Through a bunch of twists and circumstances, some of which are not even obvious, the two get their shit together and eventually decide to cohabitate. All is bliss until Helen fully realizes that she has gained a roommate, not a lover. Jessica is no longer interested (was she ever really interested?) in sex.
     In the second-to-last scene, Jessica runs into her former boss (and former-former boyfriend) Josh in a bookstore. He asks how Helen's doing and Jessica says she's fine..."she dumped me." When he wants more info, she says that Helen was looking for someone "more lesbian." Josh, clearly interested in Jessica as more than a friend, gets her email address.
     Cut to the final scene: Helen, waiting at a cafe, talking on the phone with her new lover, about Jessica, who is walking up the street toward her. She says that Jessica is running late because she ran into Josh at the bookstore. "Is she excited? Is she interested in him?" "Yes!" Jessica plunks down at the table and the two former lovers, now friends, begin to talk excitedly.
     Bullshit. Did you catch that? I will repeat it in case I didn't make my point effectively.
Bullshit.
     It's not bullshit because it's a lesbian film. It's not bullshit because she was a lesbian and at the end she's not. It's not even bullshit because when she was a lesbian she was dysfunctional and unkind, and at the end she is apparently heterosexual, and also more considerate and open to everyone.
    It is bullshit because in the real world, it just doesn't happen that way. What did Jessica lose when Helen broke up with her? A great place to live in New York. Constant companionship, although the companion was someone who always wanted more from her than she was willing to give, so it was not exactly comfortable companionship. And because Helen remained her friend, she lost, in truth, only that place to live. Jessica didn't have to give up what she wanted in order to maintain the relationship; she only wanted to be friends, all along. And that's what Jessica got, in the end.
     What did Helen lose? Exactly what she wanted. She had to give up her desires and expectations for everything, to fold her needs into what Jessica was willing to give her. And I'm just not convinced that Helen--the strong one in that pair--would be so copacetic with accepting only the scraps that Jessica left when she gave up on lesbianism, and Helen, and moved back to her comfortable hetero world.
     Yeah, I could be wrong. But that one little scene at the very end of the movie rang so false that I really can't say that I enjoyed the film as a whole.

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