Let's see, how do I put this gently? This has to be one of the worst books that I've ever read. As far as I can tell it is some woman's attempt to put the words "fuck" and "cunt" in as many sentences as possible. Now, I'm all for female sexuality and have no problem with people having "zipless fucks" (a term coined by Erica Jong), but this book lacked something. Order, perhaps...maybe it was the plot. It begins with Isadora on a trip to Vienna with her second husband. While her husband is at a conference, Isadora, who is stuck in an unfulfilled marriage, begins examining her life and her potential of a random hook-up. The book then flies between her past relationships to the present and every time she has, or has thought about, sex...to which Isadora usually complains about how it is unsatisfying for her. Written in semi-stream-of-consciousness, Fear of Flying bounces around time with little organization.
When first published (in 1973) the book gained wide popularity because it was the first time that a woman wrote about a woman's perspective on sex. It was also published among the midst of the second wave of feminism, which I think may have had a profound impact on the success of the book. This is, for all intents and purposes, a book about a woman who is trying to sexually satisfy herself. Be it through a zipless fuck or, here's a novel concept in today's time, actually enjoying her husband (not that the husband makes any attempt to satisfy her either, which is just as bad). It was really one of the first times that a woman in a novel is free to be what has so frequently been granted to men, sexually liberated. I'm not trying to establish a double standard, because I think that I would feel just as awkward about the book if it was about a man reporting on all his conquests. I think that a further problem I had was that she didn't seem to have any remorse for what she did or said. And while, in many ways, this is an okay attitude to have if you're single, once you are involved in a relationship, the needs and concerns of the second person also need to be examined, or at least considered.
My ultimate problem with this book was the fact that I had no interest in the character. She seemed so conceited, I just never clicked with her. I really didn't care what happened to her or why she was doing what she was doing. It's difficult to word this without sounding misogynistic since everything that I say seems like a man trying to push down women's sexual freedom. And I am by no means trying to convey that, I simply think that, while this book may have been an accurate depiction of female frustration, it seemed way too extreme. Everything she did was simply for her and she took no thought into the people around her. Regardless of her gender, I think feel that Isadora lacked any characterization that interested me, which made it difficult to read. Maybe it's because I'm male, maybe it's because we live in a time where many women already feel, and act, the way Isadora does. Maybe I'm just a prude. But I doubt that I would venture into this book again.
Moral of the Story: The words "fuck" and "cunt" can not carry a novel by themselves.
