Soft Skull Press

Live Nude Elf: The Sexperiments of Reverend Jen

admin — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 17:03:00 +0000

Reverend Jen Miller—artist, troll museum proprietor, elf-ear wearer, and reverend in the Universal Life Church—reprints and adapts the essays she wrote during her two-year stint as the writer for Nerve.com’s "I Did it for Science" column in Live Nude Elf: The Sexperiments of Reverend Jen. As the name suggests, the essays feature Miller performing experiments related to sex on herself and her friends. Experiments include becoming a “dude for a day,” attending fellatio school, watching a Sex and the City marathon, experiencing female ejaculation, babysitting (babies being the outcome of sex), and holding a sex toy Olympics.

While it is hardly difficult to find stories about women being acted on sexually in any medium, Miller is very much an active agent in her experiments and is in control even when it means surrendering control. She does things that make her uncomfortable, but continues only when they—sometimes unexpectedly—give her sexual or mental pleasure. I appreciated the way Miller broke the “rules” when confronted with something she did not want to do, such as stripping for an apathetic audience in a seedy strip club.

Miller’s essays are still available on Nerve, but what makes the book different is the way she weaves an autobiography through Live Nude Elf. On Nerve, the column is set up like an academic science experiment, with an introduction, list of materials, discussion of method, and conclusions. In the book, essays are supplemented with introductions that relate to the other things that were happening in Miller’s life while each “sexperiment” was occurring. In addition, Live Nude Elf includes chapters that deal exclusively with “experiments” of a more personal kind: Miller’s adolescence, relationships, sacrifice, and heartbreak. What was an amusing, interesting, sometimes uncomfortable, and occasionally thought-provoking column on Nerve has become a book that is all of those things, but also had an emotional impact on me that I had not anticipated. Live Nude Elf made me laugh, made me read some passages aloud, made me a little bit melancholy, and kept me engaged throughout.

Written by: Erin Schowalter, September 16th 2009

The Good Fairies of New York

admin — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 09:29:00 +0000

By Martin Millar

Soft Skull Press

Having recently moved to New York City, one of my first excursions was to the Strand Bookstore. Late one evening in May, I walked into the shop and, feeling slightly overwhelmed but giddy with excitement, I ventured into the maze of tables and shelves surfeit with books.

Within ten minutes, I happened upon a book entitled The Good Fairies of New York. The title caught my attention: fairies? New York? The titular connotations suggested that the book would be a type of urban fantasy. Seeing that Neil Gaiman, a master of sci-fi and fantasy literature, wrote the introduction (an obvious sign of endorsement: “I owned it for more than five years before reading it, then lent my copy to someone I thought should read it, and never got it back. Do not make either of my mistakes.”), I immediately decided to purchase the book and began to read it as soon as I hopped onto the train.

The book’s opening scene encapsulates the fittingness of the generic prescription of the book as “urban fantasy”: two drunken fairies stumble into a fourth floor window and vomit all over the apartment floor of its owner, Dinnie, who is described as “an overweight enemy of humanity.”

The narrative of The Good Fairies consists of a handful of interwoven plots, such that the events of one plot have an effect, direct or less than direct, on another. There are two prominent storylines among the abundance. The first is that of the two Scottish fairies, Morag and Heather, and their quest to find a way home to Scotland, after mistakenly arriving in Manhattan and, as time passes, becoming engrossed in the various lives and events that occur throughout the city—from fairy wars in Central Park and Harlem to helping the ghost of The New York Dolls’ Johnny Thunder recover his lost guitar.

The second pertains to one of Heather and Morag’s adventures in New York and with New Yorkers, in which they determine to assist Dinnie in becoming a respectable violinist, and, more important, a respectable human capable of winning the heart of the book’s female (human) protagonist, Kerry. Kerry suffers from Crohn’s Disease and spends her time trekking through the city in her quest to unearth rare flowers for her flower alphabet project. Dinnie’s aforementioned distaste of humanity and his corresponding misanthropy sit in contradistinction to Kerry’s love of humanity and her abundant exuberance for life—a positive effect of her disease. Clearly, it is not quite love at first sight for the two, but the fairies vow to make the match.

Millar is wonderfully successful in capturing the mad buzz, the electric energy, the vibrancy and vitalistic life of New York City. Like many fantasy novels, the eccentric characters make the novel memorable. But, unlike a majority of texts in this genre, this particular one refuses to follow any particular, trite, story-arc oft associated with the fantasy (as a type of romance) genre. Instead, what The Good Fairies follows is the pulse of New York City and the beatings of the characters’ hearts, filled with punk rock beats and melodies.

Written by: Marcie Bianco, July 30th 2009

A Woman Alone at Night

admin — Fri, 13 Jul 2007 19:01:00 +0000

By Tamara Faith Berger

Soft Skull Press

A Woman Alone at Night is a story loosely based on St. Mary of Egypt, a prostitute who "reveled in her sexuality before repenting". Throughout the novel, Berger walks a dangerous line between portraying a female character who is empowered in her sexuality, and adding to the stereotyped idea that all sex workers choose their work willingly.

Early on, Mira meets an older man, John, who rapes her then forces her into amateur porn, although the description of the novel frames his actions as him "taking advantage of her willingness." This discrepancy alone illustrates the real risk this book takes in being put out into a society where women are usually seen as either helpless innocent victims or whores, and where sexual consent is rarely promoted as a necessity. Mira then meets Adi, a stripper, who introduces her to the world of sex work where the rest of the story runs its course.

I got to the end of the novel feeling as if there were few moments when Mira is not being degraded by her johns, the religious Gio or her cousin, Ezrah, who attempts to "rescue her from 'sin.'" The inclusion of religion in this novel was confusing, hovering at times towards implying that women who engage in sex work are held up somehow through the text of the bible, but more often looming towards a deep-seeded disgust of women who are in sex work. Although the end of the novel is supposed to be Mira repenting, I felt it was more like her being taken away again against her will.

I was excited at the possibility of a story that explored the multidimensional facets of female sexuality, but read the story as an illustration of the conflict of perspectives with the character of John encompassing one perspective: men think a woman walking alone at night is a whore. Mira's more devastating observation is another interpretation: "why does every girl have to get fucked?"

Written by: Lesley Kartali, July 13th 2007

The Amputee's Guide to Sex

admin — Tue, 05 Jun 2007 19:08:00 +0000

By Jillian Weise

Soft Skull Press

Posing as a handbook, The Amputee's Guide to Sex opens up a new world: not of cold lifeless prosthetics, but the raw, quivering beings that lie beyond them. Containing prose poems and free verse, the Guide is sharp and unapologetic, yet simultaneously contains yearning and heartbreak.

This book strips our obsession with Being Different/Otherness down to what it feels like from the other side; it's the difference between empathizing and fetishizing. Sometimes bitter, sometimes bold and always breathtakingly honest, Weise's words are more than just poems; they are a treatise on compassion and understanding. Weise is immediately engaging, sparring with the political, sexual, and societal realms, challenging our preconceived notions of disability and intimacy.

Throughout the book, Weise draws from medical texts and jargon, as well as history. Turning the sterile and clinical into the passionate, she deconstructs the relationship between patient and surgeon, and between lovers. Each poem is carefully constructed--a succinct work of detail and beauty. "Abscission," a work whose title refers to the natural or intentional shedding of a body part (think the leaves of a tree or plant), collides with the world of lovers and doctors: Your favorite post-coital pastime/is nicknaming my scars. The name for the railroad track/along my back-Engine.

Disabled or not, readers will find something to hold onto—whether it be flesh, prose or otherwise. The book offers up work that is unique, informative, and personal.

Written by: Jennifer Treuting, June 5th 2007

Did I Wake You?

admin — Mon, 16 Apr 2007 13:02:00 +0000

By Beth Lapides

Soft Skull Press

In her book Did I Wake You?, Beth Lapides gives a modern spin to the 5-7-5 syllable pattern of the Japanese poetry form of haiku. Instead of the usual traditional haiku topics of nature, describing cherry blossoms or rivers flowing to the sea, Lapides uses these morsels of poetry to get to the heart of chic, cosmopolitan life.

For topics, these poems sift through the substrate of a modern woman's experience, touching on love, politics, shopping and friendship. The modern language couples nicely with the formal structure to create humor, surprises and moments of sharp insight, especially when the poems touch on politics. The haiku are peppered with hyper-current references to things like Sephora, MySpace and the Mars Rover, which draw the reader in and remind us of the common cultural space we occupy. If you never imagined that you could laugh with and be intrigued by a book of poetry, now is the time to reconsider. At times boisterous and sometimes subtle and probing, Did I Wake You? offers the author's inner monologue as she experiences situations and relationships that all women will be able to identify with.

Overall, Did I Wake You? is a great book to buy to enjoy for yourself or to give as a gift. It would be a fun departure for those already interested in poetry, as well as an enticing lure for those reluctant to pick up a book of verse. Beth Lapides has produced a great, lively collection of poetry full of playfulness and pitch-perfect perception of modern living.

Written by: Dominae Petrosini, April 16th 2007