getting to know anne

I spend a pretty good amount of time reading book reviews. I like to read them before and after I finish a book, but not during. When I'm in the middle of the book, it's mine. No one need ruin it for me by making me mad about anything. So I read some reviews of "Valley of the Dolls" before I started it. Apparently, you either love or hate this cult classic. I don't recall anyone being on the fence. So far, I think I fall in the former category.

I am really enjoying Susann's writing style. It's got an elegance reminiscent of Charlotte Bronte or Jane Austen, but updated to a mid-1900's properness. Nobody writes like that today, and it's a shame. Susann deftly throws in profound statements about the human condition as if philosophy is her second nature.

"Anne, you not only talk like a virgin but you think like a priest. Look, I'm a virgin, but I do know that sex and love are two different things for a man. Charlie used to live in the cheapest room on the road and send my sister three quarters of his pay check so she and the baby could live nice. But that didn't mean that once in a while he wouldn't take a flier with a nice-looking girl on the bill. He just needed sex. ... It had nothing to do with Kitty and the baby. I've hung on to my virginity because I know men put a high value on it, and I want some man to love me the way Charlie loves Kitty. But it's different with a man. You don't expect him to be a virgin." (23)

"I suppose if you're in [the war], nothing matters but getting out alive," she said quietly.
"You don't chance thinking even that far ahead," he answered. "You think from day to day. If you allow yourself to think of the future--any personal future--you lose your nerve. And suddenly you recall all the senseless time-wasting things you've done ... the wasted minutes you'll never recover. And you realize that time is the most precious thing. Because time is life. It's the only thing you can never get back. You can lose a girl and perhaps win her back--or find another. But a second--this second--when it goes, it's irrevocably gone." His voice was soft, remembering, and she noticed the fine lines around the corners of his eyes. (38)

Tony walked on, to a boisterous ovation. He bowed and accepted the applause with pleasant modesty. He was tall and good-looking, with a boyishness that made him seem vulnerable and appealing. A girl would trust him. A woman would want to protect him. (65)

I also like her use of foreshadowing, even if it's a bit obvious. Anne noted that nothing bad could ever happen to someone like Neely just pages before Neely comes bursting into the office sobbing about the Broadway show.