Customer Reviews

Flyover States (Red Dress Ink Novels)

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

What I knew after the first few pages: I am living in a place almost exactly like Langsdale, Indiana. I graduated from a place almost exactly like Langsdale University. Yes, I am also a resident of a flyover state, a transplant from more eastern origins, and I know that feeling of being in a place where you're not sure you quite fit in-not like there's anything you can do about it. The two narrators, Ronnie Williams and Doris Weatherall, are transplants from LA and New York, respectively, both hardworking students, both committed to staying within academia, but still removed enough to see the flaws and not exalt the ivory tower any more than those who don't quite get it (from not having experienced it on this level) or those who, well, don't quite get it, either---you know the kind. They crawl from under their moss-laden postmodern or victorian rocks to go to class and promptly return after class is over. The more pointed barbs may be more like inside jokes that only the authors are privy to, but readers will appreciate all the brutally hilarious insights and moments such as the one where Doris's friend from out of town comments on the roomful of brilliant yet financially inept academics or Ronnie's almost tender, idiosyncratic preference for either Italian men or billy rays, her term for the more off-cuff homegrown rednecks in town. The narrators come to terms with what truly is a crappy summer (in other words, just another bad summer as a graduate student, the usual jumping hoops and crises that come with the amount of work that is available to a whole useless cartel of overworked and underpaid would-be academics) with help from the comforts of routine, booze, and friendship, all of which are-in my opinion-the bare essentials to surviving graduate school [in the Midwest]. They arrive at a resolution that is unforced, the ending happy but not unbelievable, all a part of a chord progression that suggests the real end isn't something that's going to come at a mere book's completion.

There have been satirical explorations of the university in spades (Jane Smiley's Moo, Kingsley Amis's Lucky Jim, etc.), but none quite like this one, where it's centered on the graduate school, where one of the first images we come across is in Ronnie's opening chapter, when she discovers that (through the wonders of Photoshop?) someone slapped a tennis racket in her hand and now she very visibly graces the front of a brochure celebrating diversity. Like, it's not enough to have an African-American student on the cover, but she has to be playing tennis to complete the picture of well-rounded wholesomeness. Graduate school is a space where the satire takes on a different form: the characters are all in limbo, not even at the point that they've gotten a real job as a professor where they then jockey for tenure. You're not so young, your bodies are starting to fall apart, you're able to see the cogs and bolts and screws in the machine better than you were able as an undergraduate, and everything can be thought of in terms of exploitation and the race-gender-class sandwich. But you're not embittered and have horns growing out of your head in your pursuit for tenure and then ever after moldering in your office with the same prints you put up in the early 80s. Therefore, it is perfectly acceptable to have chunky rock jewelry and the liberal peppering of references from Trina Turk to PJ Harvey and Elvis Costello.

Established readers of chick lit will enjoy the genuine humor and the travails of dating in a practically un-dateable place, as well as other standard tropes of the genre. This novel also extends a hand beyond the reach of most current chick lit, because of its balancing act of having not just round but also racially diverse characters without turning into a flat buddy comedy (black-white opposites come together as a team thing). New readers: powerful voices, steady building of character throughout, insights from two serious, thinking individuals who aren't afraid to like nail polish and Marc Jacobs shoes for fear of not fitting the dour mold of academia.

This does not seem like a "chick lit" book to me because it is fairly ribald and thought-provoking. It is not about women finding their prince charmings.

The book is hilarious, but at the same time, it provokes serious questions about what it is like to be searching for your place when you just don't belong. Also, there is a persistence and determination to the characters that is admirable for women readers especially.

Ronnie and Doris struggle throughout with the politics of academia, and academia itself. For me, this book is more about identity--the discovery of identity and the fight for identity. What it is like to be on the periphery of society, and how the characters learn to function even as outsiders.

Ronnie and Doris are learning, but at the same time, they do not let academia rule their lives. They seem to find a balance between living in the world and examining it at the same time--no easy venture.

I recommend this book. Doris and Ronnie persist, with a sense of humor. Anyone trying to follow a dream or a goal, despite challenges, set backs, and the opinions of naysayers, will appreciate this book.

I thought this was an excellent book that speaks to the realities of both student life in academia and of cultural diversity in white small town america. It was realistic and witty - intellectually stimulating and a relaxing read. Thanks to both authors - wherever they really live now!

Doris Weatherall comes from Brooklyn and Veronica Williams from California to attend Langsdale University in Indiana. Though one woman is African-American while the other Caucasian, and they compete for the same summer teaching position the coastal females become best friends. Ronnie becomes upset when, without her permission, she is a diversity initiative brochure's centerfold aimed at minority recruitment.

Doris gets the teaching position but finds high school seniors uninterested in what she tries to do; Ronnie works in a factory. Both want a man in her life. However, Ronnie doubts she will find a brother in the conservative section of the Hoosier state while Doris sees her poetry professor although he is allegedly gay. These two independent intelligent women turn to one another to survive their self imposed exile in the Midwest.

This is more a character study than a chick lit tale though readers get the chick lit viewpoint from the coastal females. The story line centers on two individuals coming from opposite poles converging in the hinterland like fish out of water. Ronnie and Doris become friends as they share ideals while feeling isolated on the campus. Fans will enjoy this deep look at ethical blue state individuals struggling with red state moral values.

Harriet Klausner

Someday, the chick-lit book craze will end, like the sweeping saga "Lace" and "Scruples" craze ended, like the True Crime fad ended, etc. Well, after reading this book, I feel that the end is near.

Basically, the authors created two cookie-cutter chicklit characters--you know, they drink, hang out with their gay friend, drink some more, wear outfits, drink--then put them in an environment two people like that would never be in, academia. Party girls like that going for years without a real salary--I doubt it.

Even more unrealistically, these girls go not to schools in their native New York and California--two states just dripping with colleges, I should add--but send them out to a--can you stand it? Red State!

Even though just about everyone our two heroines meet is either black, hispanic or gay, they still carry on like they are trapped in a land of stupid white racists. The reality shown in this book is unlike the one people really live in, it is more like a reverse-racist stereotype created by liberal screenwriters.

Did you ever, for example, see an ad that portrayed Arabs as terrorists to sell deodorant? I never have, but in this world, it exists, along with fawning news reports of the KKK, evil salesclerks who don't honor Indians' gift certificates, and clueless college administrators who paste black heads onto white bodies to show fake "diversity."

Our politically correct heroines, of course, don't give the same respect to the white natives as they expect from them, referring to them as "Bubbas" or "Billy Rays."

I am not denying the presence of racism, and I imagine city types would feel out of place in a country atmosphere. However, this book didn't handle the social issues very well, in my opinion. It was a mistake, I think, to tackle such issues in a chick-lit book. I'd be happily reading along about one of the women's boyfriends, or trouble at work, for example, but then it would be interrupted with an angry diatribe about how low-achieving students are a product of less money spent on education (partly, but there's a lot more to it than that) or how there are more "legacy" white people in college than black people on Affirmative Action (maybe in fancier colleges, I doubt it in less prestigious universities), and the rhythm would be broken.

The book comes off as sour and elitist, and although there are some interesting characters and scenes, I cannot recommend it to chick-lit fans, or to fans of serious novels, who may be put off by the bar-and-boyfriends plot.