Scan barcode
A review by graylodge_library
Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susann
5.0
Re-read 10.08.2020
No change in rating. Come on now!
The ultimate trashy beach read. The chick-lit novel that comes with balls. Every main character is unpleasant to some degree, even the prim and proper Anne who wanted to get out of a small town, but doesn't realize how much of that social convention she carries with her. Her naivety contrasts with Jennifer's vanity and thirst for love, Helen's two-faced bitchiness, and Neely's self-destructiveness and growing aspiration to become famous. Pills are popped for getting ahead in the show business, staying relevant in the show business, numbing your feelings, and just for general excuses.
Valley of the Dolls is like one giant worst-case scenario. It might be unrealistic, implausible, embellished for shock value, and cheesy, but it's also a glorious little gold nugget whose hilarious ladies' room catfight never gets old. Its excessiveness is all the more entertaining when you know that practically all of the characters were modelled after real-life people, and maybe that readers' sense of curiosity (along with Susann's resourcefulness and enterprising attitude) in part helped it to become one of the most best-selling novels in the entire history of publishing.
The ending kind of makes me feel dead inside, but I wouldn't have it any other way. And remember, ladies and gentlemen: always believe when people tell you who they are. Don't make compromises where the only loser is you.
What about the movie then? With Susann's words: "a piece of shit". Pretty to look at, amazing clothes, and Sharon Tate is a lovely Jennifer, but ultimately it's campy in a bad way and doesn't have the book's soul. I also can't forgive what they did to Anne. Utter nonsense!
13.05.2016
Susann knows how to sink her claws into the reader. Just when things seem to get better for our women and the future shines bright in the distance, something happens and the tunnel closes. Then some turn of events gets you believing again, and the roller coaster starts again and again and again... The circle of life turns into a circle of dolls and resentment.
Valley of the Dolls isn't a mushy romance that sinks into an abyss of paper-tasting plastic characters, who seem to melt under a tighter scrutiny, or a glossy, emotionally simplistic, and rose-tinted fairy tale world, where predictability is a given. Instead, it actually makes you invested in the characters, although they are practically one-dimensional vehicles of psychological exploration.
Both unrealistic with its cheesy plot twists which seem to occur only for shock value, and realistic with its oh-so-common story of downward spiralling lives in the show business, the story is structurally kind of a mess, but a glorious and trashy mess. The fact that I don't mind the heap of clichés dumped on me is a testament of Susann's genius.
Like with The Best of Everything (1958), I noticed that I can digest chick lit when it's set in another time period and has some kind of melancholy or tragic events involved. A retro Mad Men-ish backdrop has so much more value in terms of atmosphere (and basically the only reason why I decided to read this). Valley of the Dolls wouldn't be what it is if it wasn't set in 1940s-60s, or if it didn't have a hilarious cat fight in a ladies' room, self-destructive women popping pills in all the colors of the rainbow, dreams crashing and burning, struggles with fame and expectations concerning private and professional lives, loads of vodka and champagne, and men who are far from dreamy Fabios.
Girly pulp that doesn't make you want to vomit, but to have a cocktail or two and eat chocolate until your head explodes. Essentially, this is the glamorous and excessive cousin of Peyton Place (1956).
"Who wants respect? I want to get laid!"
- Helen Lawson
No change in rating. Come on now!
The ultimate trashy beach read. The chick-lit novel that comes with balls. Every main character is unpleasant to some degree, even the prim and proper Anne who wanted to get out of a small town, but doesn't realize how much of that social convention she carries with her. Her naivety contrasts with Jennifer's vanity and thirst for love, Helen's two-faced bitchiness, and Neely's self-destructiveness and growing aspiration to become famous. Pills are popped for getting ahead in the show business, staying relevant in the show business, numbing your feelings, and just for general excuses.
Valley of the Dolls is like one giant worst-case scenario. It might be unrealistic, implausible, embellished for shock value, and cheesy, but it's also a glorious little gold nugget whose hilarious ladies' room catfight never gets old. Its excessiveness is all the more entertaining when you know that practically all of the characters were modelled after real-life people, and maybe that readers' sense of curiosity (along with Susann's resourcefulness and enterprising attitude) in part helped it to become one of the most best-selling novels in the entire history of publishing.
The ending kind of makes me feel dead inside, but I wouldn't have it any other way. And remember, ladies and gentlemen: always believe when people tell you who they are. Don't make compromises where the only loser is you.
What about the movie then? With Susann's words: "a piece of shit". Pretty to look at, amazing clothes, and Sharon Tate is a lovely Jennifer, but ultimately it's campy in a bad way and doesn't have the book's soul. I also can't forgive what they did to Anne. Utter nonsense!
13.05.2016
Susann knows how to sink her claws into the reader. Just when things seem to get better for our women and the future shines bright in the distance, something happens and the tunnel closes. Then some turn of events gets you believing again, and the roller coaster starts again and again and again... The circle of life turns into a circle of dolls and resentment.
Valley of the Dolls isn't a mushy romance that sinks into an abyss of paper-tasting plastic characters, who seem to melt under a tighter scrutiny, or a glossy, emotionally simplistic, and rose-tinted fairy tale world, where predictability is a given. Instead, it actually makes you invested in the characters, although they are practically one-dimensional vehicles of psychological exploration.
Both unrealistic with its cheesy plot twists which seem to occur only for shock value, and realistic with its oh-so-common story of downward spiralling lives in the show business, the story is structurally kind of a mess, but a glorious and trashy mess. The fact that I don't mind the heap of clichés dumped on me is a testament of Susann's genius.
Like with The Best of Everything (1958), I noticed that I can digest chick lit when it's set in another time period and has some kind of melancholy or tragic events involved. A retro Mad Men-ish backdrop has so much more value in terms of atmosphere (and basically the only reason why I decided to read this). Valley of the Dolls wouldn't be what it is if it wasn't set in 1940s-60s, or if it didn't have a hilarious cat fight in a ladies' room, self-destructive women popping pills in all the colors of the rainbow, dreams crashing and burning, struggles with fame and expectations concerning private and professional lives, loads of vodka and champagne, and men who are far from dreamy Fabios.
Girly pulp that doesn't make you want to vomit, but to have a cocktail or two and eat chocolate until your head explodes. Essentially, this is the glamorous and excessive cousin of Peyton Place (1956).
"Who wants respect? I want to get laid!"
- Helen Lawson