Summer, 1972

A top editor at a publishing firm in NYC pokes his head into a break room and says to a young, male intern who is pouring coffee, “Hey, kid, come into my office for a minute, will you?”

The “kid” is a recent lit grad from Columbia University with a penchant for Joyce and Hardy and an innate distrust for this particular editor. He starts to sweat immediately at the man's request, but stays outwardly calm as he puts down the coffee cup and follows the editor into his office.

The editor makes a big show of inviting the young man in, closing the door behind him and seating him comfortably on a small sofa. He chooses to lean conspiratorially against his large desk.

The intern battles the urge to bite his lower lip.

“How fast can you read, kid?” the editor asks, smiling.

“Fast, sir.”

“Well, son, I'm happy to hear it! You see that sweet piece of ass out there in the lobby? The one with the cotton candy hair and those sweet, braless tits?”

The intern slowly turns his head to look out the office windows and sees a nervous looking blonde, seated on a sofa, staring at him. He nods.

The editor leans in closer, “That there is a Miss Erica Jong. She's a friend of a friend. Some kind of poet, too. She's real appreciative that we're going to take a little look-see at her manuscript. Well, that you're going to take a little look-see, while I take those tits out to an air-conditioned lunch. I've pretty much promised her we'll give her feminist lit a little whirl, so don't break a sweat, kid. Just scribble some basic notes and advise her to knock off about fifty pages.”

He takes a manuscript off his desk and hands it to the intern.

The young man looks down at the manuscript, then up at the editor to ask, “Is it feminist lit, sir?”

The editor stands, and indicates that the other man should do the same. Right before opening the door, he slaps the intern hard on the back and says loudly in his ear, “I don't give a fuck, son!”

Two hours later. . .

The editor returns, his entrance announced by his boisterous laughter. He has an arm hooked under Ms. Jong's arm and he ushers her in to an available office as he summons the intern with a quick flick of his hand. He doesn't know the intern's name, and this doesn't embarrass him in the least, but he rubs the top of Ms. Jong's back as he announces he's leaving her in the hands of “one of the best” (with slightly slurred speech). He shuts the door behind him as he leaves.

After a few polite exchanges, the intern and Ms. Jong sit down across from each other and the intern offers, “I can't get over how much you physically resemble your protagonist, Isadora Wing.”

Ms. Jong laughs into her hand. “Yes. Of course. We are the same woman!”

Intern: Then, do you mind if I ask. . . Is this an autobiography?

EJ: Well, it all really happened, but, no, biographies don't sell.

The interns pulls at his collar. He's taken three aspirins since he started the manuscript and is sweating profusely now.

He coughs. “So, it's autobiographical, but you want us to promote it as fiction?”

EJ: Oh, yes.

Intern: And my editor. . . he led me to understand that you would classify this as feminist literature?

EJ: (nods vigorously) Oh, yes. Naturally.

Intern: But. . . why feminist? I mean, what exactly about it is feminist?

EJ: (flicks back her head and laughs) Well, I believe you've noticed I'm a woman?

The intern pulls at his tie as though imagining it's become a noose. “It's just that your. . . I mean Isadora's escapades are so. . . dark, so demeaning. It's almost as though you don't respect, I mean Isadora doesn't respect herself or ANY women. And that scene with the man who can't be bothered to wipe his bottom and smears feces all over your sheets during lovemaking. . .

Ms. Jong smiles, wraps her hair playfully around her finger. “Hot scene, wasn't it?”

The intern rubs his face with both hands. Tries to keep his cool. “And, no disrespect, Ms. Jong, but are you aware that you use three different tenses alone, just in the first chapter? I wonder if you could clarify your storytelling vision to me?”

EJ: My writing coach always says, “Write what you know!”

She leans back against the chair, exposing cleavage. She giggles. “Daddy always said that a girl as pretty as I am will always make a big splash in this world.”

An hour later. . .

The intern knocks loudly at the door of the editor and is invited in. The editor stays seated, a Parliament cigarette hangs from his mouth. “How'd we make out, kid?”

The mentally exhausted intern says, “Put a naked woman on the cover and market it as erotica,” and walks quickly out the door.

The book is published in 1973 and men with dirty asses and dirty toes the whole world over are shocked to discover their newfound love of feminist lit.

(***This review is a work of fiction and the reviewer feels that it was an appropriate, albeit snarky response to being trapped in a room for four consecutive evenings with this “novel.”)

Ovu sam knjigu prvi puta čitala kada sam imala trinaest godina, tijekom ekstremno vrućih ljetnih praznika, dok sam sa sestrom i mamom ljetovala u Budvi. Sjećam se da sam čitanje dovršavala u autobusu koji je od Budve do Bjelovara vozio bez klime, kao što su bez klime vozili svi tadašnji busevi. Sjećam se da se na zvučnicima do besvijesti ponavljala kazeta Kiće Slabinca. Sjećam se kako sam mislila da sam jako cool što čitam knjigu koja je tako sexy i koja je zbog toga oprečna svim seksualnim neslobodama koje stoje postojano, kano klisurine Balkana kojega smo prelazili punih 18 sati. Sjećam se da su mi tada na svaki spomen „onih stvari“ pregorjevali osigurači jer sam bila bez ikakvog iskustva u tom pogledu pa bih se u odlomcima koji su opisivali seks crvenila. Sjećam se i nekih jako prostih scena koje nisam pronašla u ovom novom čitanju koje je uslijedilo 34 godine kasnije pa se pitam jesam li sad možda čitala neku cenzuriranu verziju iz koje su izbačeni najsočniji odlomci. Sve ostalo sam zaboravila, većina radnje u ovoj knjizi mi je na ponovno čitanje bila čisto otkriće. No, moguće je da sam ih zapamtila na nekoj drugoj razini svijesti jer su brojni stavovi izneseni unutar knjige jednaki kao i moji, pa sam ih možda još tada prihvatila i posvojila.


Knjiga je pisana u prvom licu a glavna je junakinja književnica koja priča o svojim brakovima i vezama i o brojnim izazovima svog umjetničkog zanimanja. Tiče se to procesa sazrijevanja, predrasuda s kojima se mora boriti i bitaka koje mora voditi sama sa sobom i sa ljudima iz svoje okoline, a naročito se tiče pitanja umjetničke slobode i slobode općenito. U tom kontekstu ona često i puno govori o seksu. Razgovor o seksualnosti na tragu je slike koju je o čovjeku stvorio Sigmund Freud koji se u knjizi spominje bezbroj puta, obzirom da se radnja romana odvija na svjetskom simpoziju psihijatara što se održava njemu u čast. U duhu frojdovske analize podrazumijeva se da je seksualnost sastavni dio svake osobe koja ga čini kompletnom i zaokruženom cjelinom, pa autorica otvoreno govori o svojim iskustvima, fantazijama i željama, smatrajući da je biti iskren u ovom pogledu jedini mogući način da čovjek upozna i razumije sebe. Doživljaje glavne junakinje romana brojni su čitatelji doživljavali autobiografijom same autorice pa je stoga njena hrabrost da se tako bezpoštedno izloži vrijedna strahopoštovanja.


Ono što smatram dragocjenim i dobro posloženim u ovoj knjizi je i činjenica da je autorica glavnu junakinju prikazala takvom da je, uz to što je živo i aktivno seksualno biće, istovremeno i vrhunska intelektualka koja pokazuje impresivno poznavanje opće kulture, koja je duhovita i oštroumna u svojim primjedbama, koja je kreativna i maštovita i koja pokazuje da biti seksualan ne isključuje to da možeš biti moralan, pošten i pravedan. Utoliko je njen (auto)portret žene punokrvan i lišen stereotipa koji često polaze od pretpostavke da intelektualke frigidne ili da su žene koje vole seks glupe i nemoralne.


Sjećam se da sam to isto ljeto kada sam prvi puta čitala ovu knjigu pročitala biografiju Carice Teodore. Tek danas vidim jasnu poveznicu između njene životne priče i priče koju je ispričala Erica Jong jer je Teodora u ranoj mladosti bila prostitutka, no to je nije spriječilo da postane carica. Obje su priče u tom pogledu drugačije od onih koje vidimo u stvarnosti jer su žene čija je seksualnost „javno dobro“ uvijek izložene ponižavanju i gubitku ugleda. U vrijeme kada je Erica Jong objavila svoju knjigu svjetska je javnost kroz medije, glazbu i filmove proživljavala seksualnu revoluciju i činilo se da se svijet u tom pogledu mijenja, no društvo je se u međuvremenu vratilo puno koraka unazad, pa postaje jasno da nije stvar u društvu, već da je u ovakvim slučajevima uvijek riječ o izdvojenim, iznimnim individuama – Teodora i Erica živjele su u različitim stoljećima ali su pronašle načina da nadiđu predrasude svoje okoline i uvjere ih u čistoću onog što mnogi smatraju prljavim, naročito kada su u pitanju žene.


Za kraj, donosim dvije odlične rečenice koje su mi se najviše svidjele jer su povezane sa stvarima koje su se i meni događale i žao mi je da ih nisam prepisala i više, jer zbilja ih ima puno koje vrijedi zapamtiti.


„...otkrivate da ste još uvijek čitavi poslije toliko godina provedenih kao polovica nečega, kao dve zadnje noge kostima konja na sceni nekog vodvilja.“

"Moje pjesme su svodnički nudile ljubav, a to isto je činila i njihova autorica".

Rappt och humoristiskt, (lite likt Caitlin Morans stil), om en ung sexpositiv kvinna. Lite för babblig och liksom ungdomlig för min nuvarande smak. Förstås nydanande på 70-talet när den skrevs, om det omtalade knapplösa knullet. Men vissa bitar har inte åldrats väl alls. Kul med många litterära referenser.
3,5 ⭐️ typ.

I wish I could have a more natural visceral reaction to this book but I read it from a state of being all too aware of it's controversy and place in feminism and time. I wish I had discovered a dusty copy in a grandmother's attic or untouched corner of a used bookstore because that is really how it should be read... a discovery filled with self discovery.... but I went out looking for it. It had been mentioned too many times as an example and I had to read it for myself. I did instantly feel a connection with Isadora, actually a pretty intense one, "damn someone already wrote the book I've always wanted to write," and it wasn't even all that stimulating sexual misadventure but rather what some critics would call Isadora's dime a dozen "neurotic tendencies." It's funny because the fact that Isadora's complexity, which she herself questions, is judged so harshly is a big part of what this book is commenting on. As I read it I too questioned myself, with all the context I knew about the book glaring back at me with a criticizing eye. Was this just an excuse to enjoy porn under the guise of being an intellectual? Was this feminism or were we attempting a "if we can't beat em' join em'" mentality? Was this self-empowerment or loss of self-respect? Was I just questioning myself because I wasn't as liberated sexually as I'd like to think? Then, with all these questions muddling Jong's pioneering work, I realized that this was the Fear she was talking about. As women, in a supposedly post-feminist world, we often spend so much time feeling guilty for feeling guilty or feeling guilty for not feeling guilty we forget that what we're fighting so hard for is to live our lives free of guilt... to fly without fear of falling or being despised for flying so well. I'm not sure if I should feel an empowering sense of solidarity with this discovery or feel guilty that we're not as far as Isadora hoped we could someday be... but then there's that guilt again. Maybe the Zipless Fuck is a fantasy.

Isadora Wing, welcome to my shit list.

This book was a scandal in the seventies, especially because Jong openly talks about sex from the female point of view. But to be honest, Jong never transcends the level of a classical narcistic personal diary. There are a few interesting pages on male domination and the irrelevance of psychoanalisis. But presenting the hysterical hunt on male studs as the ultimate female dream is rather debatable.

„Isadora Wing, obiecująca młoda poetka, pisarka, cierpiętnica, feministka i kobieta wyzwolona. Isadora błaźnica, głupia, bystra, badaczka, profesjonalna płaczka. Wiecznie niezaspokojona, z dziurami w głowie i w sercu, poszukiwaczka wybawicieli, anemiczna awanturnica” - to nie cytat, tylko wybrane z niego fragmenty, w których narratorka opisuje samą siebie. Poznajemy ją na jednym z wyjazdów służbowych jej męża psychoanalityka. Są w Austrii, co jest istotne, bo Isadora ma żydowskie pochodzenie więc patrząc na Austriaków do głowy przychodzą jej różne oskarżające myśli - ale to zostawmy. W kolejce na konferencję spotyka ekscentrycznego Anglika, z którym dość szybko wplątuje się w romans i ucieka w transową podróż bez trzymanki, jak z jej erotycznych fantazji.
Od lat chciałam ją przeczytać (mam nawet wydanie z lat 90-tych) w końcu to kultowy tytuł literatury feministycznej, ale trochę się jej bałam, a ten strach został spotęgowany po niedawnym czytaniu nowej Mirandy July, która też pisze o kobiecym wyzwoleniu sek$ualnym. Ale to dwie zupełnie różne książki, z odmiennym wydźwiękiem, z bohaterkami z inną energią i w różnym momencie życia. Miranda była dla mnie za mocna, zbyt naturalistyczna, szokująca (jak dla mnie) na siłę. U Eriki też jest cieleśnie, seksu jest sporo i do pruderii jej daleko, ale nie jest niesmacznie. Jest mocno pikantnie, lecz jednocześnie turbo zabawnie, a płyny ustrojowe nie ścielą się tu gęsto. I przede wszystkim zdecydowanie łatwiej było mi się z Isadorą i jej myślami utożsamić.
Zostawiając już same fantazje autorek i przeżycia narratorek, Jong wygrywa dla mnie tym, że w „Strachu przed lataniem” oprócz seksu jest sporo intelektualnych rozważań, wnikliwych feministycznych przemyśleń czy nawiązań do świata kultury i literatury. I nie bez powodu to książka rewolucyjna, której sukces i przejście do historii przewidział John Updike czy Henry Miller (tak, mężczyźni, ale był 1973 rok).
Więcej nie napiszę, przeczytajcie same. Ja love i na pewno będę do niej wracać

جريئة بشكل غير اعتيادي ممزوجة ب "بوهيمية" لا حدود لها .. نفترض في مجتمعنا أن الإنسان كلما "صعد" على سلم العلم و تحصّل على شهادات علمية كلما توجب منه "انضباطية" و "عقلانية" و هذا ما "تعاكس" كليا مع خط المؤلفة .. استرعى انتباهي أنه رغم كل ذلك "الانفلات" الحياتي و الانغماس في "البوهيمية" إلا أن كل ذلك لم يؤثر على "انتاجيتها" أو مركزها "العلمي" او ما وصلت إليه من "نجاحات" . قد تكون حالة من الحالات الفردية. لا أدري هل أحسدها على فضاء "حريتها" و قدرتها على "فضح" من حولها ان جازت نفسي "الساذجة" وصفها في سبيل عمل أدبي "ساخر و ساحر" أم هي "لعبة" اشترك فيها "جميع" من حولها في سبيل ذلك "الوليد" .. أشكر الروايات و الأدب على "نعمها" بجرنا الى تلك "المستنقعات" و "تذوق" و "رائحة" تلك الحياة من غير أن نغادر "الحيز" الذي نحن فيه و "ننغمس" في "المجهول" .. متعبة لمن يسهل استفزازه

That cheeky, spunky writer Erica Jong. You bet, she wrote a novel that illustrated how the brave pursuit of women's lib. doesn't necessarily bring happiness. But obedience to other people's expectations is GUARANTEED to not bring happiness.

A favorite quote from the witty and outrageous author of "Fear of Flying":

What all the ads and whorescopes seemed to imply was that if only you took proper care of your smells, your hair, your boobs, your eyelashes, your armpits, your crotch, your stars, your scars, your choice of Scotch in bars - you would meet a beautiful powerful, potent, and rich man who would satisfy every longing, fill every hole, make your heart skip a beat (or stand still), make you misty, and fly you to the moon (preferably on gossamer wings), where you would live totally satisfied forever.

Complete marginalia here.

More like 2 and 1/2 stars.

The 2 and 1/2 stars are for the chapters that I enjoyed reading about The History of the World Through Toilets and that lovely part when Isadora reverently spoke about her mother, Jude (not obscure). And for all the funny parts when I laughed out loud. And I think I needed to believe that the nights I spent reading this were worthwhile.

In a way, it is. Reading this book with the forced sexual escapades and crude words made me realize one thing: I am thankful that I am not like Isadora. She is the kind of person I would never choose to be.

Abandonat, no puc més de lo basiquet.

I’m a big fan of this. Perfect beach read, clever, witty, doesn’t take itself too seriously. This one’s for the girlies. The writing style is great and I liked the ambivalent ending. Gonna have to read the sequel! Reminded me of Stephanie danler / Kate Zambreno / Kraus