Customer Reviews

Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl (Nancy Chan Novels) (Large Print Edition)

5 star:		(21)
4 star:		(11)
3 star:		(11)
2 star:		(12)
1 star:		(15)

 

 

This is a delight: brisk, full of witty and subtle human observation, spicy in its frank and clear-eyed evocation of the high-end hooker's life. The prevailing tone is madcap comedy in alternation with a drier humor, but the author makes surprisingly moving detours into reminiscence and reflection; nobody will have trouble empathizing with the splendidly confused heroine. Tip: for fullest appreciation, log on to Salon.com and read the 50 or so episodes of Nancy Chan's life that lead up to the starting point of the novel.

Quan's character-driven story of a pricey call girl stewing over both important life decisions and day-to-day trivia was fascinating to me because she and I have both worked in the same profession but have had such very different experiences. Where my work has mainly been "small town," Quan has worked as an upscale, uptown, chic and elite call girl. Quan's writing has been eye-opening for me because she shows another way of approaching the work -- another life altogether.

But this isn't just a book about escorting and escorts and it's appeal is much broader than self-referential reading for other sex workers. This is a book about life, choices, fears and successes that everyone has in one form or another. More than describing the life of a call girl, Quan is describing the life of a Manhattanite. Stand aside, Seinfeld; step back, Sex and the City -- Nancy Chan owns New York!

The characters are absolutely fascinating; I devoured this book. I've got my fingers crossed for a sequel -- I want more!

Nancy Chan lunches with her friends. She shops. She visits her shrink. She works out. She worries about her fiance. She frets about money. She can't find a cab in the rain. She dreads going before a co-op board. She lives an utterly Manhattan existence except for the fact that she's a call girl. Tracy Quan has created a humorous novel that discusses the life and times of a modern call-girl in a matter-of-fact way. She talks about sex with clients in the same way she discusses working out. A kegel here, an ab crunch there. They're both just simple parts of her life. Nancy's clients are an interesting and accomplished and older bunch, and her fondness for them is apparent. They add depth and color to the novel. These are not "Johns" in the typical sense. As Nancy travels around town, she encounters a cast of characters we have not seen anywhere else. A call-girl who graduated from being a drug dealer. A call-girl who graduated from the Ivy League. Sex-worker activists. Sex-worker groupies. A fiance whose sister works for the District Attorney. A fiance who works on Wall Street. Nancy doesn't just play her life for laughs. We learn about her childhood in Canada and her youth in London, where she turned tricks in hotel bars. There were scary moments on the job, so she doesn't glorify her profession. But she demonstrates courage and perseveres, until we find her at the top of her game, able to efficiently address a client's needs without mussing her hair or making her late for dinner with the in-laws to be.

As a twentysomething, college educated female who has experience working as a professional escort, I was very eager to get my hands on this book. The popular media invariably portrays all sex workers as disenfranchised, lowly women who are in the trade due to desperation.

This is a vast misrepresentation; escorting can be fun, profitable, and even romantic. Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl provides a much needed voice of balance. The main character, Nancy Chan, is working as a high-class call girl because she *wants to*, not because she *has to*. This is an important distinction amid a sea of media propaganda about the world of escorting.

Nancy has been drawn to escorting for a number of reasons: she loves the money, she loves the excitement, etc. At the same time, she wants to have a "conventional relationship."

The sections in this book that described Nancy's inner dialog reminded me of my own situation. I won't list any spoilers here, but the novel presents the idea that a woman who works for a stint as a call girl can still find married love and upper-middle class respectability. The book even suggests that the two can exist concurrently--a theme which the author apparently explores in a sequel to this novel.

I also liked the descriptions of the sex scenes. Whereas sex between an escort and a client are usually portrayed (in the mainstream media) as seedy exploitation, Nancy Chan's bedroom romps with clients are decribed as playful, naughty encounters.

At just under 300 pages, Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl is short enough to be a fairly quick read for the attention deficit challenged. The emotional conflicts, suspense, and the sex scenes will keep you turning the pages.

In summary--a welcome and much overdue addition to the world of chick lit!

Been there, done that, and the bottom line being, this book tends to glorify and create a sad misconception of a dark, consuming lifestyle. If her quasi-memoirs happen to encourage naive young ladies into the "game", then she ought to feel ashamed for herself for most will encounter a nightmare of the likes they've never seen before.

I was once a so-called pimp (writing my own memoirs at the moment) and the garbage I was witness to, troubled me deeply. This was on the up-scale level, escort side of the equation. Not the street. The freaks in this business knows no demographic: Rich, poor, culutured, plebeian, race, color, or creed. They walk amongst them all...

I have yet to encounter a book by a former sex trade worker that truly tells it like it is without shamelessly glorifying their perception of themselves and more often than not, continuing the denial (a prerequisite to remain in the game) in the failing hope of hanging on to what little self esteem remains, if any at all.

I was very disappointed and found it to be a boring read as she meandered through her tale. It was a struggle to finish the book. I was that turned off. It's like comparing Disney flicks to pornography. That's how far removed it is from real life. Part fiction? All fiction is more like it. Replete with a sacharin-sweet, candy covered coating. Ugh...

A book that truly tells of the darkness is "Children In the Game" by Ross McInness (former Calgary vice detective). I have seen the fear, the horror, and the pain as it is depicted between those very pages. If you want the truth, by his book!

Taz
(retired administrator, formerly of Ambrosia's Allure -
a once high-end Toronto escort service)

Tracy Quan has written a delightful novel about a fictional Manhattan call girl named Nancy Chan, a successful thirty something prostitute who is trying to work out how to continue to pursue her career in the context of an impending marriage to her fiance, Matt, a rising Wall Street type. It's clear that Nancy Chan shares many of the characteristics of her creator, and part of the fun of reading the novel is trying to determine what and where the distinctions are between the fictional Chan and the very real Quan. This is a work of fiction, of course. But it rings with truth as the tiny details of Nancy's life are sprinkled in - she avoids wearing perfume on the job so that her clients won't have to explain a hint of it when they leave; she has a coding system in which her professional name changes from one set of clients to another - if Bob, a voice on the cell phone, has greeted her as "Amber", he must be the Bob from San Francisco. (A variant of, `If this is Belgium it must be Tuesday'.) And she is ultra careful about seeking and accepting new clients; proper introduction only, thank you. This is a dangerous occupation.

Nancy Chan has always done what she wanted to do, and even as a child knew that she wanted to be a prostitute. She has always kept her occupation a secret from her family by claiming to be a copy editor, and intends to do the same thing with her new husband-to-be and his family. And therein lies the motivation and the conflict that make this story work. She worries about Matt staying over in her apartment, "finding things while I'm fast asleep. Like those over-the-top black crotchless panties I wear for Milton. With the red frilly opening. Yikes."

Her new inlaws will include the unbelievably nosey sister-in-law Elspeth, an Assistant District Attorney and her Wall Street lawyer husband Jason. Nancy describes them: "Jason's the money in that marriage - an M&A lawyer. Elspeth, the assistant D.A., sees herself as the integrity." Nancy has asked her two closest hooker friends, one the sharp Jasmine and the other the airheaded Allison, to be her bridesmaids at the impending wedding. Chan, the consummate worrywart, is trying to work out how all of these people can be flung together at her wedding and yet maintain her secret life. This in the middle of a full schedule of Runyonesque clients - "johns", her friends from the New York Council of Trollops, therapist sessions with Wendy, her shrink, gym workouts, nail appointments, telephone calls on various cell phones, concert dates and cab rides that comprise her life in New York.

It can be read as pure fluff, empty entertainment. Or, as with all competent works of art, it can be viewed on several levels, showing us insights that make us say, "Yeah, that's the way I am and the way the world is - I hadn't thought about it that way before," and shows us shades of meaning obvious only on reflection.

I read "Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl" from cover to cover. Then I tried to set out in just a few words my major perceptions of the book. The two phrases that kept floating to the top of my impressions were, "Theater for One" and, "Life in the Reef". Let me explore them in that order.

Theater for One.
The successful call girl at the level of Nancy Chan creates a fantasy encounter for her client for which he is willing to compensate her handsomely. It is repeated and enhanced each time they meet. Both she and her customers know that this is a commercial transaction, but during the encounter, are willing to suspend that belief. She is for one the demure yet hungry coed, for another the naughty little tart, for another the smooth sophisticate, for another the slutty bed partner. She dresses to please his individual tastes and kinks. She is supremely non judgmental, at least in his presence. This is, after all, a performance. And in that sense, it is theater produced for an audience of one. The performer is acutely aware of costume, makeup, stagecraft, lighting, sound, and above all, the interpersonal nuances specific to her client. Like the best actors on stage, she is able to deal with unexpected changes in the script in real time without stepping out of character, and, like her sisters on stage, delights in the response of her audience. What can this performance be but theater? And what better place for theater than New York City?

Life in the Reef
There is a sense in which Quan is describing a coral reef from the point of view of one of those brilliantly colored little fishes that live their lives amid the sun sparkles and light dapples. The little fish interact with the other reef dwellers, each perfectly adapted to its own role and to its own part of the reef. To the casual observer, the bright little fish look as if they care about nothing but frivolity and preening. But they are no less adapted. They live by their wits and by staying just out of the reach of predators. There are parts of the reef to which they will not go, creatures they will not trust. In the reef, nothing is quite what it seems to be; the coral itself is alive. The tasty morsel just within reach is really a trick - gulp it down and you're someone's breakfast. When a shadow appears, hide. It may be a shark. Don't go too close to that dark crevice in the coral. An eel will dart out after you.

In this context, the notion of trust is everything. Can I trust this client not to expose me and hurt me? Can I trust my friends to keep their wits about them? Can I keep them from doing dangerous things? Tracy Quan is showing us a lifetime of self preserving nuance in the background as she spins her farcical tale. Life in the reef. Good analogy. Good book.

In her first novel, Tracy Quan, a former call girl in one of the most glamourized cities in the world, gives us the insider's view of her oft-glamourized, often derided former profession--the world's oldest.

The characters seemed like SUCH real people to me. Even the relatively boring and seemingly hum-drum johns and working girls were fun and interesting to read about. Tracy has a gift for bringing out the most fun and interesting parts of the lives and personalities of everyday people.

I felt like the ultimate voyeur..into a world of kink, fun, power, high-finance, and...practical lingerie.

I felt like I got to know the author personally...and ...felt like I got a bit of the call-girl experience myself...though I'm nowhere near as beautiful as the author is in her publicity photo.

In short...if you'd like to get a dangerous, yet safe glimpse at "the life"...this is the ONLY way to do it.

Let Tracy Quan be your guide. You'll love every page..and, you'll be left breathless with anticipation for the next Nancy Chan book.

For endurance, look to Tracy Quan. Hers is a voice that we will surely hear more from, as she catapults toward the writer of distinction she is and will be. This is a great novel that takes a realistic look into the life of Manhattan call girls. There is no plot development in this book, just a day to day take in Nancy Chan's life. The best part of this book is that it gives the reader a glimpse into the world of call girls without adding dark language or explicit scenes for shock value. Also, this novel isn't about Asian call girls, as one critic implied, but about the unconventional career choice of the protagonist and her cronies. Quan humanizes this "profession" without using the cliches that society place upon it. Quan's dialogue is crisp, funny and insightful, and I laughed out loud several times, seemingly from out of nowhere. I've heard that this novel is ninety percent autobiographical. In that case, I applaud Ms. Quan for baring the truths about one of the biggest taboo subjects out there.

Tracy Quan has given a sincere and honest glimpse into the complexities of the life of the modern call girl. It is well written and fast-paced. A great read!

... There is no snobbishness; just a comedy of manners, so to speak, that is delightful, readable, and surprisingly real. Perhaps the reviewer didn't know what to make of a prostitution novel that lacked the usual elements of such stories; abuse, violence, degradation, exposure, etc. Nancy is fully aware of the worst elements of her profession, as are Jasmine and Allison, each in their own way. Yet she manages to create for herself a life that steers reasonably clear of these dangers and approaches her chosen profession, sex, with the same professionalism you see in other fields. Those who haven't had direct contact with this world may find it hard to believe Nancy's approach to prostitution can be real, or for whatever reasons, they may prefer to deny that it can be real. But the book is real (subject perhaps, to literary license that's no greater than that taken by any other novelist). Tracy Quan knows. So do I.