Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About Just out. (Portland, OR) 1983-2013 | View Entire Issue (June 21, 2002)
Ju s t out ; BOOKS What's a gay to do? ^^^Qt/V^uld Advice from America’s Best Christian tops the list of current must-haves How to Succeed of the Expense of Others in This World and the Next ¿0 , 4 ,K Mrs. (3 «tty g o w e r s ^ America's Best Christian o* Kite *0 f*Oul A. W hat W ould B etty D o ? How to S ucceed at the E xpense of O thers in T his W orld and the N ext by Mrs. Betty Bowers, America's Best Christian, as told to Paul A. Bradley. Fireside, 2002; $ 12 softcover. S elf-help has become one of America’s de facto religions, practically on par with Christianity. And like Christianity, its such a hig, brainless target that it’s spawned many a satire. (Who can forget Is Martha Stuart Living ? from her highness’s hey day a few years back?) What Would Betty Do? combines self-help with religion, making the target bigger and bet ter. Betty isn’t a new phenomenon; she has had a cult Internet site, www.bettybowers.com, for a couple of years. But this guide by “America’s Best Christian” is new, and it’s one of those rare instances of the Net producing words that deserve to be preserved in print. The pretematurally pushy Betty is a delirious combination of self-delusion and self-righteous ness. Like a Bible-crazed Joan Crawford, she tells readers exactly what to think and how to live, all the time making it clear that even the most devoted will never come up to her heavenly standard. Even the Lord isn’t safe from her barbs: “If God created me in His image, I have more than remmed the compliment!” She's equally handy with recipes (“Betty’s World-Famous ‘Brutal Death of Our Savior’ Cookies") and tip>s on the proper couture for abortion clinic bombings and executions. In her all-Betty-all-the-time world, even cherubs— those cloying little hutterhalls with wings— conspire to keep her on top: The cover shows them doing her hair, spraying perfume on her wrists and generally slaving to keep her looking good. “Real” author Paul A. Bradley is so good at sending up the rabid Christian right that read ers might want to sample the book rather than read it straight through, lest the fun end too fast. It’s hard to resist such choice items as “Betty’s p>et project, the Christian Crack Whore Ministry” or her mock interviews with Eminem and Laura Schlessinger (“You are simply too slutty to sp>eak at my church, dear” ). Her ver sion of the gay agenda is a to-do list with such entries as “4:10 p.m.: Time permitting, bring about the decline of Western Civilization.” Like Martha, she’s also seasonally minded. Many readers will want to know “there are only 297 shopping days ’til the Apxxalypse.” If only the hellfire crowd would read this hook. Now that would be self-improvement. — Gary Morris RITA MAE & SNEAKY PIE \ DRCWN •• C atch as C at C an : A M rs . M urphy M ystery by Rita Mae Brown and Sneaky Pie Brown. Bantam Books, 2002; $24.95 hardbound. F or a small, usually quiet town nestled at the edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains and inhabited by some of Virginia’s finest old-money descendants, the rate of mysterious happenings in Crozet during this spring season is awfully high. A dead pileated woodpecker is found, Miranda Hogendohher’s hubcaps have been stolen, Roger O ’Bannon (the vulgar and obnoxious salvage yard owner) dies suddenly after drinking a cup of coffee at the Dogwood Festival Tea Party, followed by another mysteri ous death and a string of crimes ranging from minor to international. Postmistress “Harry” Haristeen and her entourage of house pets— Mrs. Murphy the tiger cat, Tee Tucker the Welsh corgi and Pewter the shamelessly fat gray cat— must, of course, investigate. Catch as Cat Can is the 10th installment of the charming Mrs. Murphy mystery series by Rita Mae Brown, considered by many to be America’s most successful modem lesbian writer. (The author adopted Sneaky Pie Brown from her local SPCA .) As with previous Mrs. Murphy mysteries, Catch as Cat Can offers a delightfully fun escape from the stresses of present-day reality. It is the “ purr-feet ” read for animal lovers who want a light getaway over a rainy weekend or a lazy week’s retreat in the sun. Escap>e and enjoy! — Page Jordan T he S ummer T hey C ame by William Storandt. Villard Books, 2002; $12.95 softbound. l p T he Summer They Came is an example of what I like to call an “ab book”— a gay novel that has nothing to recommend it except a set of beautiful abs on the cover. This first novel by William Storandt (author of the memoir Out- hound) is proorly structured and populated by one-dimensional stock characters. The story concerns the town of Long Spit, R.I., an area of pristine beaches and old-money mansions. But it’s so isolated (and insulated) that even the next generation of blue bloods isn’t coming any more, and the neglected town is falling into disrepair. Enter Mike, who takes his friend, Artie, for a helicopter ride over the town to show its potential as the next Fire Island. Along with a small band of friends, they decide to turn Long Spit into a mecca for beach-loving gays, com plete with tea dances, backroom bars and lots of naked frolicking on the sands. The premise is sound, but the inevitable conflicts between the blue bloods and the blue boys are un original and predictable. Along the way, Storandt introduces characters and sets up plot points that immediately disappear or are dispensed with sSns explanation (Mike, for instance, who is never heard from again after Page 6). Likewise, on Page 66, we leam about the mysterious entrance to the harbor of the yacht Nighthawk, only finally to leam on Page 237 whose yacht it is but never why its entrance was a secret. These are not red herring, they’re pickled herring. Another mark of the book’s sloppiness is a cover that promises “three lives altered by these lycra-clad visitors,” and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out who the three are. The publisher promises “a comedy that’s sure to appeal to Ijpach readers everywhere.” However, its main beach appeal is that it’s flim sy enough to toss as a Frisbee to your dog. — Floyd Sklaver G odspeed by Lynn Breedlove. St. Martin’s Press, 2002; $23.95 hardcover. L ynn Breedlove, the lead singer/ songwriter for the dyke punk band Tribe 8, takes a leap from her energetic, in- your-face lyrics and lands on mostly solid footing with her debut novel, Godspeed. From the very beginning, she sets a racy pace and keep« it up as the reader tags along with Jim, a bad-ass punk bike messenger dyke who is hopelessly in love with Ally Cat, a sex worker who quickly tires of Jim ’s “nothing mat ters but the rush” drug addiction. The first half of the book goes a bit over board with descriptions of Jim ’s various trip«, but eventually the action keep« up with the jaunty prose when she volunteers to go on tour as a roadie for the all-chick band Hostile Mucous. As the addiction fades (p>erhap« too easily) and the band works its way across the country, Jim starts to leam that love means more than conquest and that friends are good for more than just a high. The novel’s strength lies in Breedlove’s sharp use of language and in the fringe dwelling characters who are full of attitude. Though the fast pacing sometimes allows cru cial scenes to zip by without giving the reader much time to absorb the gravity of the events, the depth is there. The author’s lively style makes Godspeed a quick, fun read. — Karen Kudej J H P age J ordan is a community relations manager for Barnes & Noble. G ary M orris is a Portland free-lance uniter. FLOYD S klaver is a Portland free-lance reviewer. K aren K udej is program associate for Literary Arts in Portland. m u. We h a v e s i d e w a l k _ seatin g startin g I J u l y 4 t h ! jrf| | j every sleeping beauty needs beauty sleep Casual Dining ~ ~ Lounge ~ ~ Game Room ~ ~ Live Music ~ Open 4:00 Daily ~ ~ Full lo tte ry /A T M ( 5 0 3 ) 2 8 7 - 4 2 1 0 Air Conditioned ' 120 N W Th ird Avenue, Portland, O R 9 7 2 0 9 • (503) 2 2 4 -3 2 8 5 Parking Validated Sm art Park Davis & Front w w w hobos.citysearch com Beds Plus 52567 Columbia River Hwy Scappoose. OR 503/543-3066
