Literary Lesbians

Discussion started with the controversial statement: Alma Rose is a 'player'. Sally leapt to her defence, arguing that she 'simply had a commitment problem'. But isn't that part of the definition of a player? Heated discussion followed. Alma Rose never shared her address, details of her life, with Pat. Pat knew what Alma Rose was like - she had a choice. Alma Rose never lied about her inability to settle down. Pat always knew that she would leave one day and not come back. Pat never asked Alma Rose to stay.

This led to a discussion about whether or not Pat was a 'victim'. Was Pat a complete pushover? Did Alma Rose simply 'feed off her'? Or did Alma Rose do all the work, 'fixing' Pat. Ange suggested that Alma Rose saw Pat as a challenge, Caroline said it was more like she saw her as a game (that she was playing?). Quote of the night from Caroline: "I think she was pathological"!

Sal said that she respected Alma Rose for not coming back. That she didn't give in to her ego and come back to see the sculpture and gloat about it.

Sal also described Alma Rose's influence on Pat as "People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime". Alma Rose wasn't the lifetime type, but she definitely was a big influence on Pat for the better. She brought Pat out of her shell, encouraged her to be more independent of her father, and gave her the motivation to do something really BIG with her life - literally.

Amy pointed out that she was disappointed that the main character in this novel, Pat, was again a kind of social outcast. That in a way her oddness ("You always were an odd child Pat") was in the end encapsulated by her sexuality. As her father said when he discovered her and Alma Rose in a compromising situation: "Oh, so that's it, you're just a queer!"

Lynnie wondered whether there was a book out there with a strong lesbian lead who was not somehow the odd one out. Where the story was not about her discovering her sexuality, learning to fit in, based on 'classic techniques of alienation'. Lynnie suggested maybe one of the lesbian detective novels would break this mould. However, coincidentally, in the latest edition of MCV, there's an article about queer crime fiction. In the last paragraph author Lindy Cameron explains: "a lot of the heros of crime fiction are loners and outsiders...So when you have a private eye who traditionally walks the streets on his or her own, then the perfect person to play that role is another of society's outsiders, the gay or lesbian". Is there no hope for the strong, independent, non-alienated lesbian heroine?

Amy and I were both a bit sceptical about the introduction of Donna in the second half of the book, although we were also pleased that whether or not she and Pat ended up in a relationship was left unsettled. It did seem a little too convenient that suddenly another lesbian arrives in town and falls in love with the only other lesbian around.

At around this point I got so involved in the discussion that I forgot to take notes about what everyone said next, so please feel free to add to this by posting comments to fill in the gaps!

I thought I'd finish with a quote from a reader's review I found on the net, that I think sums up what makes this novel such a joy to read:

"It is about a love so big outsiders can't see it. It is about being changed so much by love, waking up so much, that trivial things like 'facts' and broken hearts don't matter any more. It's about owning your own life, and never being a victim. This is a book about the wisdom of learning that what happens TO you doesn't matter so much as how you respond."