One thing I recall from the book reviews of "Valley of the Dolls" is that just about everyone who read it, whether they liked it or hated it, called it trashy. So I'm about a quarter of the way through, and I'm waiting for it to get trashy. It hasn't made it yet. It's certainly gotten romantic, but not trashy. Maybe a little gooey, but the ooey-gooey love Anne thinks she's finally found with Lyon is clouded by a sense of dread. It doesn't take a detective to figure out that she's eventually going to end up unhappy, or at least strung out. Colorful pills are sprinkled over the title as cover art, and the book begins with a poem about how you have to climb Mount Everest to reach the Valley of the Dolls: " ... And when she met Lyon Burke /it was too late to turn back." And, Susann writes, there at the top, it's breathtakingly lonely.
I want Anne to be happy. She's got so much potential, but she's falling into a trap.
She leaned over and took him in her arms. His back was moist with perspiration. All at once she knew--this was the ultimate in fulfillment, to please a man you loved. At that moment she felt she was the most important and powerful woman in the world. She was flooded with a new sense of pride in her sex. (141)
It's so obvious it hurts. The bliss can last only so long before it all comes crashing down. I just wonder if she took off Allen's 10-karat ring when she took off her clothes.
A couple of side notes:
- In my head, Helen Lawson sounds just like Kathleen Turner ("Jewel of the Nile," voice of Jessica Rabbit) -- sort of a husky, worldly, sexy voice. Anne has more of an Audrey Hepburn innocence -- probably because of "Breakfast at Tiffany's." Allen is a young Cary Grant/George Clooney type, and Lyon is what would happen if you mixed Russell Crowe and Brad Pitt. Everybody's an archetype.
- Taciturn = reticent, almost to the point of stern.
- Kismet = fate.
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