Trash. But entertaining sleezy trash.

The edition of this book that I bought in a sale had a blurb on the cover saying "THE FEMINIST CULT CLASSIC", so it sounded right up my street and I was pretty excited to read it. Sadly, it disappointed me in almost every way. The central storyline of Jesse's relationship with Bell is soaked in biphobia and fetishisation of bi and gay men; another central relationship is that between Jesse and her part-time employer Pig, whose main characteristics seem to be that she is fat, grotesque, and pathetic. The best moments of the book are when Jesse is given time and space to reflect upon the nature of relations between men and women in society, but these rare moments are most often cut short by some "shocking" and "outrageous" plot device or sexual act. Not for me.

“my life fans out like a string of paper dolls. i am malleable, chameleonlike. each life eats the last until i’m a Russian doll containing ten women of decreasing size.”

i’ve never read a book with such beautiful prose. it’s written vividly, with descriptions of the protagonists surroundings, people she encounters and detailed insights of her feelings, problems and thoughts. this book touches on many topics and is truly a whole vibe- i’d say “heroin chic” describes it best! (even though i wouldn’t even dare to water it down to just ~vibes). themes i noticed throughout the book are womanhood and sexuality, relationships- between her and her bisexual boyfriend/lovers, mother and daughter, etc.- and obsession. depression and other mental health topics such as willful self destructiveness and death.
i was intrigued since the first page. it’s a touching, provocative and melancholic book.

Out of the box, skittish, hazy on plot, and drug-like stream of consciousness heavy. For some reason it works, but its took a while to read for such a little book.

Overall, I'd say I enjoyed the weirdness of it; but, it was too short to be a character study I cared about, and had a confusing plot for a one time read. Jesse wasn't unlikeable or likeable... Just inconsequential to the plot who moved us from place to place. Her boyfriend Bell seemed a more interesting character to drive a real plot and he could've still had the same ending.

The writing style is something I admired throughout - the simplicity and directness of it is exactly what a good writer needs to do to captivate an audience, as they're supposed to tell good stories in as few words as possible.

I felt this book relied on shock factor and its plot twists were weak
But I read it and kind of enjoyed it - getting inspiration as a writer myself and taking note of the technique.

Existe uma série de cobranças irreais por parte da sociedade com relação às mulheres; entre elas de que sejam belas, acolhedoras, maternais, etc. Isso se reflete também no mundo literário, onde grande parte, para não dizer a maioria, das protagonistas são mocinhas bonitas, elegantes, discretas, magras e sagazes.

Não é o caso de Jesse, a anti-heroína de “Loira Suicida”, de Darcey Steinke, que é cheia de defeitos, inseguranças, vícios e fluidos humanos. Esse fato por si só já faria o livro se destacar, mas a obra vai muito além, com enredo, construção de personagens e escrita também fora do comum.

A saga de Jesse tem início após mais uma briga com o namorado, o aspirante a ator Bell, que parece sempre procurar um motivo para estar triste. Ela reage se embriagando de whisky e decidindo pintar o cabelo de loiro, na tentativa de se tornar mais atraente para o companheiro.

Bissexual, Bell surta após receber o convite para o casamento de um ex-namorado de adolescência. Quando ele sai de casa sem rumo, Jesse se desestabiliza emocionalmente, dando início a uma jornada no maior estilo “Alice no País das Maravilhas”.

O buraco do coelho por onde Jesse entra, e acaba desencadeando diversos acontecimentos que irão mudar sua vida completamente, é a própria cidade onde mora, São Francisco, na Califórnia.

O livro, escrito no começo dos anos 1990, é considerado um clássico grunge, que representa a cidade de ressaca após o “verão do amor“, na década de 60 e 70. No final do século XX, a região é um antro de usuário de drogas, prostitutas e travestis, além de outros tipos de pessoas marginalizadas pela sociedade.

Jesse não é exceção, na busca pelo amor que ela nunca recebeu de Bell, nem de seus pais, na verdade, ela vai encontrando e se relacionando com personagens excêntricos desse submundo, como a madame Pig, uma milionária obesa que vive reclusa em casa, e sua filha, ou seria uma ex-namorada, a striper Madson.

Nessa jornada pela noite alternativa de São Francisco, Jesse faz sexo com estranhos, é estuprada, consume álcool em doses cavalares, se apaixona, se droga e trabalha como bartender numa boate de strip-tease. Tudo no período de uma semana.

A resposta mais evidente para sua crise existencial é que o amor que ela tanto procura, assim como Alice com o coelho, esteve sempre dentro de si mesma. Mas esse seria um desfecho demasiadamente moralista e óbvio para Jesse. Na realidade, a conclusão do livro é outra e de tirar o fôlego, mas não falarei sobre isso para não estragar a surpresa do futuro leitor.

O ponto alto da obra, no entanto, não é o enredo, apesar de este ser excelente, mas sim a linguagem com que é escrito. A habilidade de Steinke com as palavras é imensa. Seu ritmo frenético beira um poema beat, a geração de artistas que desbravou São Francisco antes de Jesse.

"Loira Suicida" é como se Lou Reed e Allen Ginsberg tivessem se juntado para escrever um livro. Se fosse um filme, a direção seria de Danny Boyle.

No Exit In Excess
Fashionable early Nineties nihilism. Courtney Love and Lou Reed channeling De Sade and Dostoevsky on the same Palahniukian typewriter. Notes from the velvet underground of a simpler time, an embarrassing artifact.

3.5 stars

This was such a wild ride of a book, and it took me by surprise at many points. I can't remember where I saw this, but it was definitely recommended on goodreads at some point in the recent past. I can't say that I felt good while reading this, though the emotions it elicited were strong and disturbingly hidden. I applaud any work of writing that can achieve that.

Steinke's prose is sharp and sexual, strikingly feminist. There were some lines I legitimately had to read out loud because they resonated so hard. Given that it was published in the early 90s, I appreciate its frank discussion of fluid sexuality, bisexuality, and what it means to be sexually free (and whether that is truly feminist). It was refreshing in the sense that Jesse is not pitted against other women, but instead, against other men. Her passive fascination with Madison and her willingness to commit to true love was endearing and raw.

Her descent into madness when she crashes Kevin's wedding was an elusive sequence of real and not-real diversions between past and present, artfully done. I wasn't the biggest fan of the novel ending on Bell's suicide; something about it felt like a cop-out, but the horror of his body lying there all night while she slept hit me hard. I wish this one was longer, which is not something I say about many books.

I read this because it was the Northern California book on the list of Best Books from Every State and that was my plan for the year but this is the first of the books that I wish I would have skipped. I really didn't like it at all. It wasn't the subject matter that turned me off. None of the social themes (drugs, prostitution, homosexuality) bothered me at all. It was the total lack of character depth and a completely wandering and at times non-existent plot that had me wondering when it would ever get better. Really no idea who could have added this to a Best Books list.

Darcey Steinke’s Suicide Blonde has been sitting on my shelf since it’s publication in 1992. Had I read it then, I may have been more favorably impressed as I was then drawn to the ‘transgressive’ and damaged goods explored in this novel. The New Yorker says that Steinke’s prose “repeatedly hints at the divine in tangible things” and the Washington Post book review of her later novel, Milk, asserts that “Steinke writes some beautifully mystical descriptions of sexual encounters, and the conjunction of sex and spirit, bodies and souls, is fascinating.”

Of Suicide Blonde, Vanity Fair called it “a provocative tour through the dark side” as Jesse, a 29-year old beauty, moves through San Francisco’s underbelly world of heavy drinking, sexually ambiguous “outsiders.” It is also filled with a Christian pathos that ends up positing integrity and virtue as insipid and transgression as heroic and romantic. As Shadia B. Drury has written, “Liberty demands freedom from authoritarian dominance and repression. This freedom from external restraint is predicated on the capacity for self-restraint. In contrast, transgression identifies self-restraint with being vanquished, devastated, and despoiled. Transgression requires the harsh brutality of sovereign power, the medieval repressions of the Catholic Church. Without them, transgression is neither possible nor heroic.” Transgression is not freedom and Jesse is a prisoner of her own ethos.

This is the weakness of much postmodern literature and thinking from Foucault to Bataille, with whom Steinke’s work has been compared. The influence of Catholicism is definitely there in Suicide Blonde, and for someone who has fully escaped the thrall of the church, this tale ends up seeming sad and a bit empty.

I will read this again and again. This book is so good I need to read this again and take notes, because I didn't yet and I don't know if I've understood it to the fullest now, but there’s rarely been a book that had me in its grip like this one, especially in terms of how full and rich it was from start to end. didn't weakened out, kept the same torturing and haunting language. I

sei lá não gostei muito não. cheio de papinho mequetrefe

I want to shred this book into little pieces of paper, boil it until it’s soup, and inject it into my veins.