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REVIEWS
T he C helsea W histle
by Michelle Tea; Seal Press, 2002;
$14.95 softcover
hildhood is m orbid" is the
perfect start for M ichelle
Tea’s latest m em oir about her
“sicko" (pre)adolescent life in
B oston’s desolate slum of C helsea.
The Chelsea Whistle is the a u th o r’s
uncontrived, debaucherous
account of growing up working
class during the ’70s and ’80s with,
inevitably, all related tragic ingre
dients included: a good-for-nothing
drunk of a dad, an absent mom, a
perverted stepfather, violent and/or
sex-crazed
neighborhood
hoys, etc.
She is Little
Red Riding Hcxxl
hut a notch
smarter, making
it out alive and
away from the
deceitful harbor
of the nuclear
family and the
disheartening
small town. A
survivor of the
mean Catholic
schixil nuns of O ur Lady of Assumption, harsh
Italian dance teachers, horrid tap shoes and
much more, the Sister Spit rebel has come
back with a memoir to shout out about the
treacherous world in which little girls are
raised.
Chelsea covers Tea’s unglamorous up
bringing— leading to the eccentric gritty dyke
life confessed in her earlier work Valencia —
with two-thirds focusing on tragicomic child
hood sketches and lots of prequecr explorations
of love.
A fast-speed stream of consciousness glues
unconnected memories together, easily flowing
from lover hoy G oths into the quintessential
last straight hoy on to the first girl we all really
want to read about: “Me and Clive really had a
terrible relationship, and it went on forever.
But somewhere between its start and finish
came Juniper. She was Mack’s girlfriend, and
she was beautiful. T he whole point of Mack
was that he led up to Juniper."
T he anecdotes hop along, hut at times, the
lovely Tea gets tex) amorous with herself and
the equation of coolness with being stoned,
smoking lots of cigarettes and drinking tons of
booze takes over. T h at supposedly edgy waft is
intended to indicate a hip urban air, but
repetitively stressing the point becomes ulti
mately tiresome and causes the story to lose
its elegant stride.
All in all Chelsea is an easy, entertaining
read even though the book deals with plenty of
misfortune and depressing characters. Some
how the author continually has the amazing
ability to lift herself above it all and extract the
drollness out o f every situation.
Or, like she confides in this self-referen
tial passage early on in the memoir: “Sitting
casually at a strange family’s house, wiping
the Ragu from my lips w ith a paper towel as
I continued ...‘A nd T h e n T h e Cops C am e
A nd Dragged My Dad O u t O f T h e House.
A nd I Had To G o To School T h e Very N ext
Day!’ I’d shake my head at the absurdity of
life and take a sip of C oke, while my audi
ence lingered on th e last of my words, cluck
ing their tongues, m arveling at th e insane
Restaurant
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Visit us at
www.starkys.com
G ood F ood
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G ood C onversation
503 230.7980
M o n -Th u rs 11:30-11pm
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232 M V 12th St
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2913 SE Stark
Michelle Tea pens a prequel to Valencia
life I’d survived, and the ease with which I’d
let my tragedies roll off me."
It’s a skill to be proud of.
— Els Debbaut
~ Casual Dining
~ Lounge
~ Game Room
Open 4:00 Daily
P to w n : A rt , S ex and M oney on the
O uter C ape
by Peter Manso; Scribner, 2002; $25 hardcover
eter Manso’s
fascinating
Ptown: Art,
Sex and Money on
the Outer Cape
tells the history of
what has been
called “the gayest
place in America.”
Formerly a haven
for pirates and
thieves, the quaint
Portuguese (and
very Catholic)
fishing village
became a Mecca
for bohemians and artists at the end of the 19th
century. By the 1950s the Massachusetts town
was a popular tourist destination for gay men and
lesbians, many of whom bought property and
have become a political and economic force.
W ith only one birth in 2000 among a year-
round population of 3,500, the demographics
of Provincetown have clearly shifted. The spit
of land on the tip of the eastern seaboard has a
poverty rate that is 60 percent higher than the
rest of the state yet housing prices that make it
the costliest town on Cape Cod. According to
local real estate agents, 97 percent of all recent
home buyers have been gay.
In Ptown, the shifts in culture and demo
graphics are told through the compelling expe
riences of the town’s residents— some native,
some transplants. From the fisherman who gets
caught up in an almost comical botched smug
gling episode to the famous author whose par
ties are legendary for their drunken and drug-
induced debauchery, every story is engrossing.
It’s unfortunate that the most complete
accounts have taken place since the 1970s (and
are about those the author seems to know per
sonally). The unique history of Provincetown is
so captivating, I wish Manso had provided the
same level of detail for some of the earlier sto
ries. But that’s a minor quibble with a book
highly worth reading.
— Floyd Sldaver J H
P
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