Customer Reviews

A Round-Heeled Woman: My Late-Life Adventures in Sex and Romance

5 star:		(27)
4 star:		(19)
3 star:		(17)
2 star:		(12)
1 star:		(7)

 

 

For decades, the personals section of _The New York Review of Books_ has been a cheerful island of sexuality within an august intellectual setting. Those of us who browse it out of curiosity rather than sincere shopping can't help but wonder how these attempts at finding love turn out. Will the beautiful, brainy SJF, earthmother, find her sweet, brilliant, companionable sexy beast? Will the adventurous, intellectual, DWM, 47, periodontist, photographer, musician, cat-lover find his full-figured woman for passionate sex and scintillating discussions? (I am citing real ads from a recent issue.) Thanks to Jane Juska, we know, quite thoroughly, how one of those ads played out. Juska was watching an Eric Roehmer film in Berkeley, carefully munching her malted milk balls, when she started writing her ad. Carefully budgeting the $4.55-per-word prose, she eventually submitted, "Before I turn 67 - next March - I would like to have a lot of sex with a man I like. If you want to talk first, Trollope works for me." Her funny, revealing, and smart book, _A Round-Heeled Woman: My Late-Life Adventures in Sex and Romance_ (Villard), shows that the old slogan is quite true: it pays to advertise.

If you are not "of a certain age", Juska's title might elude you. It is an old phrase that indicates a woman who is easy to get to go from vertical to horizontal. "My heels are very round," she writes, "I'm an easy lay. An easy sixty-seven year old lay. 'Twas not always so." She had gone through decades of not having a man in her life. This is not just a story of what happened once she placed her ad, but also a memoir of her life so far that led to its placement. She recounts a Midwest upbringing, sad marriage, divorce, single motherhood, teaching high school (and prison) English, her love for the novels of Anthony Trollope, and much more. Of course the main fare is how Juska managed her respondents. She triaged the letters into Yes, No, and Maybe, stacks that proved not to be rigid. Her first encounter, filled with all the worry that would do justice to any virginal adolescent, could not have been worse; the cad had sent an outdated photograph and steals her champagne flutes and her pajama bottoms. Good writing paid off for another: "... a varied syntax sends shivers up and down my spine." She fell in love with a man who only wanted a friend. She had completely successful encounters with a man who was thirty-five. He wrote her that he realized "that there is a somewhat substantial age gap between us (not quite Harold and Maude, but in the neighborhood)" but that age didn't matter for people that mattered to him. He sounds too good to be true, but there isn't any disillusionment at the book's end.

There has already been backlash about the book; many would have been better pleased if she had followed the path old ladies are supposed to take and did not admit to any lingering libido. Of course, then there would not have been any book, and then there would not have been as happy and as fulfilled an author. Most readers will be rooting for her, as she grins against the disappointments life and men inevitably hand her. She cannot help loving them, and enjoying in particular their legs, buttocks, and penises, about which she writes with gusto. She may be needy, but she is also frisky and honest. She is neither noble nor pitiable, but simply reluctant to let physical thrills be a part of the past, something that only young people savor. She is brightly appreciative of the intellectual thrills of meeting interesting men, too. This is a unique memoir by a funny and irrepressible lady, and a sexy one as well.

Long awaited book since the first reviews and all the hype appeared. Thank goodness she lives in Berkeley, 2 minutes from me, as that means I'll be able to attend a book reading somewhere nearby. The lady's got guts, chutzpah, joie de vivre, etc - - - but most of all, boy, can she write!
The narrative arc of A Round-Heeled Woman is framed on Juska's desire for a truly fulfilling sexual relationship for, one may assume, the first time in her life. After decades as a teacher and a single mom, looking old age eyeball-to-eyeball, she leaps into the bizarre world of Personals Ads and comes up a winner.
Deeper, however, than the sexual narrative, is the story of her blossoming as a fully-actualized woman.
What's not to love about this book? I didn't find anything.

Jane Juska's new book, A Round Heeled Woman, is not just a tale of the results of her advertisement for a sexual relationship with "a man I like". She meets some wonderful and some not so wonderful men, and the reader suffers through the disappointments and rejections and cheers the successes. (And there are several.) Yet it is her narrative of teaching in High School and at San Quentin that is so poignant and shows as much about who she is as does the ad which depicts her as a daring woman who is looking for a connection at long last, a woman who "wants to be touched" . One hopes that she writes another book, and quickly, about her teaching years, all forty of them, and in particular more about her prison students. This book is true and real and very funny and I couldn't put it down. I for one would love to meet this remarkable woman.

The Juska ad in the New York Review anchors this book's plot, but be forewarned, you will learn more about Jane, the author, than just her desire for sexual fulfillment as a senior citizen. You will learn of her warts and all, a dysfunctional wife and mother, a sexually abused chld, an alcoholic, an overeater, an intellectual to the max.

And if things herein shock you, there is plenty more to delight the mature reader, male or female, as this woman tells all, reveling in her special times as a teacher, especially that time in San Quentin with her prisoner learners. Her writing institute base of teaching writing is so familiar to any English teacher who might be reading this memoir. And the revealing stories of her incarcerated students present the most moving segment of the whole book.

This woman loves life and just happens to believe in making sure that she participates in it with companions to touch and stroke her needy body. In conjunction with these intimate encounters comes true enlightment, as she falls in love with New York City, and partakes of special places, including the actual writings of Herman Melville. She is indomitable, indefatiguable, a woman who does not let her calendar age stop her from really living. Her independance, not that of a wealthy woman, comes purely from determination. She is, therefore, an inspiration to those who are aging, the baby boomers who may foolishly wonder whether they should just long for times gone by, or if they should strike out and LIVE!

Jane Juska is a brave woman, as she bares her soul and tells all the secrets without disguising them in a work of fiction. I am glad my best friend from our teen years gave me this book to read and review.

As a woman of a "certain age," I know exactly what Jane Juska was up against: the Rules of Sexual Behavior that (even into the early 1960's) were ingrained into any woman with a proper upbringing. To wit:

1. Women don't enjoy sex.
2. Men think of nothing else.
3. Get him to marry you by promising him sex, but don't deliver until you're married.
4. Sex is for making babies.
5. Once you're past making babies, you have no further use for sex.

Juska didn't conform to 1., so she flunked 3. and landed, first in a loveless shotgun marriage, then in impecunious single (and celibate) parenthood. Finally, at age 66, when 5. proved to be inapplicable to her too, she decided to catch up on what she'd been missing, and this book documents the results.

Juska is a terrific writer, funny, frank, and engaging. She doesn't idealize herself: she's an effective teacher but a less-than-perfect mother; she spent many years overweight, unfit, and with a serious drinking problem; and she regularly puts her foot in her mouth, often with hilarious results. But she's courageous (anyone who teaches at San Quentin is a candidate for sainthood in my book), and when she commits herself to something (or someone) she follows through.

Having a fair amount of experience myself with middle-aged dating, I found Juska's adventures horrifically believable. (The men our age, after all, were raised with the Rules too.) But she's resilient, good-humored, and willing to take each man she meets on his own terms; she enjoys the experience fully, even if it proves to be short-lived. She observes wryly, near the end of the book, that most of the men she met were trying to prove something to *themselves* by having sex with her; by contrast, she approaches each new encounter with an open mind, and is hurt more than once when a man turns out to have a hidden agenda.

I wasn't surprised that her most gratifying relationship was with a man in his 30's -- he doesn't have the same prejudices and preconceptions as the men her age. And, I think, the fact that it's an "impossible" relationship is liberating: they have no expectations to fulfill, so they're free to enjoy their encounters without feeling obliged to have weighty discussions about Our Future.

I enjoyed the book thoroughly, and would recommend it to almost any adult, but especially to two sets of readers: (1) middle-aged women as an example of what can happen if you set out to be, fully and frankly, yourself; and (2) middle-aged men, as an education in what's out there if you abandon your stereotypes and take an honest look at the women your age.

...

Everyone wants to hear how Jane, at her age, had sex and lots of it. But as Jane herself points out, people of all ages are inspired by her writing and have informed her that the lifestyle she details is not so uncommon. It's an admirable breakthrough, flouting our stereotypes of old age.

The book is also unique in its ability to catch the reader off guard as we learn who Jane is, how she remembers her life and how eloquently she is able to reveal not just the most intimate details of sex, but also the intimate details of her mind. And it's a fascinating mind.

When Jane showed up at our studios, sweet and unassuming, I made her blush by asking her to autograph my review copy. She's the real deal, and I look forward to her next book, now that she's discovered the writer within her. You see? It's never too late.

I found this a very disturbing book, not for the issues that the author faced, but for the ones that she didn't, but that are very apparent in her life -- her alcoholism (which, when her son was young, seemed to border on child abuse), her later dysfunctional relationship with her son (come on, the kid ran away and became homeless at 17), her inability to come to terms with her relationship with her parents (by middle-age I would hope that we can all get over *some* things), her potential to be a sexual harraser (if you were a parent and your adolescent came home and told you that his English teacher kept mouthing "I love you," to students, what would you say?), and finally, her inability to be honest about what she really wants (an emotionally satisfying and longterm relationship with a compatible man). Her initial ad in the NYRB sounds gutsy and is clearly the premise that has sold this book, but she's not looking to become sexually satisfied; her neediness becomes very apparent to the reader, although she never delves those depths; clearly *this* is the topic, rather than sex, that is too intimate for her to write about.

You may not know her name, but you have probably heard of Jane Juska, the 66-year-old retired teacher from California who placed the following ad in the personals column of The New York Review of Books:

"Before I turn 67 - next March - I would like to have a lot of sex with a man I like. If you want to talk first, Trollope works for me."

This book is her report. It is one surprise after another.

The sex, for one. (I start there only because you expect me to, because you want me to.) Yes, it is explicit. Jane Juska's no prude. She's got a powerful libido and a vocabulary to match. To read her is to think --- if you're a man --- that she talks like a guy. If you're female, I suspect you'll come to another conclusion: This is how women talk with one another when there are no men around.

But the sex is the least of the surprises. Reading her ad, I assumed that Jane Juska is supremely confident --- one of those women who's like a film director in bed. A taker, not a giver. The facts are otherwise. Jane is long divorced. Her son has chosen to live on the streets of Berkeley. She hasn't had a date in three decades. (Which isn't surprising --- for many of those years, this 5'3" woman weighed more than 200 pounds.) Her social life, such as it is, occurs at San Quentin Prison, where she teaches writing to hard-core inmates.

But now, in a year, she has lost 100 pounds and can pound out the cardio in the front row of her aerobics class. She has had a productive psychoanalysis. She's read a ton and remembers it all, but isn't the least bit bookish --- she sounds tart and witty and fun.

And, also, tragic. Tucked in this book is Jane's life story, which is one personal disaster after another. Her mother worries that she'll never marry; her father, a doctor, is chilly even by the standards of his profession. Jane was, she belatedly realizes, abused by a handyman, whose secrets she has kept. Her first lovers were damaged and insensitive; she convinced herself to love the man who became her husband when she learned she was pregnant.

So although she insists she's looking for a sexual hookup, you can't read this book without seeing how much more she wants --- and why the immensity of her real desire is more than she can acknowledge. Because she wants what women half her age want: She wants it all. A sexy man, to be sure. But also a caring one. A whole man. A man to love.

Now, a man --- even a lout --- can get a date on his deathbed. For a single woman, so my friends say, it takes a career effort to find a man worth taking your clothes off for. And so it is for Jane. Her lovers are old, and their emotional resources are generally smaller than their fantasies; they don't love Jane, and they bluntly tell her so.

And still she persists. She's seen the shadow --- she knows death is out there, she feels her body decay even as she exercises to stay in shape. So although she weeps often, she plunges ahead.

Jane is spirited and spunky and, despite her bruisings, ever hopeful of a happy ending. And so will you. That is, you'll stop flipping pages looking for the Good Stuff --- "What? He told you to put your breasts on the table, and you did?"--- and, with Jane, you'll start looking for a man who knows what to do with her.

Does she find one? I'm not spoiling the ending. But I'll give you this much: Come for the sex, stay for the triumph --- the triumphant woman, that is.

Jane Juska's search for late-life sex is not, as one might be led to believe by the title, a titillating steamfest. It is, instead, the ultimately lonely tale of a woman demanding the same attention and right to pleasures of all kinds that she enjoyed in her youth. It is a fascinating story, not least because Juska bares herself emotionally--so willingly does she do so, in fact, that the reader is sometimes compelled to look away. It is an astonishingly honest, forthright account of one woman's campaign to keep a sex life.

Juska starts with a "New York Times Review of Books" personal ad, counting her dollars and trying to make every word count. She examines with fascination the differences between ads placed by men and those placed by women: "Somewhere I read that personal ads projected what the writers of them would like to be, not what they were: men's ads included the out-of-doors; women's, fireside coziness. It seemed to me that men wanted a way out, women a way in."

The ad having been placed, Juska takes us on a whirlwind ride of dividing the ad's answers into yes, no and maybe piles; meeting different men; having dinner, conversation and yes, sex with some of the men. Beyond this, she makes the book an autobiography, talking a great deal about her growing-up years in Archbold, Ohio, about being (briefly) a wife and (forever) a mother, about teaching in high school, in college and in prison. We sense the loneliness our older years can bring, while seeing in her (mostly) bright attitude and her willingness to put herself on the line that anyone--anyone!--can go after something they want. We see that age does not protect us from yearning, from occasional foolishness, from selfishness and from making the same mistake more than once. It's a freeing and wonderful story, wonderfully told.

Jane Juska deserves international recognition for writing so honestly and beautifully about the normally hushed up issues of single seniors' sexual desire -- with all its attendant anxieties about body image, performance, the how and where to connect with potential lovers, financial and emotional neediness, i.e., the business of all that 'baggage' accumulating over nearly 7 decades. Amidst today's rampant beautiful-body mania to 'fix' imperfections of dating hopefuls half her age and younger, this detailed account of an intelligent, cultured, late-60s not-so-trim woman's determined and successful campaign to get naked with the proper stranger was totally riveting. The backstory of her childhood repressions, long-ago unhappy marriage, turbulent relationship with her sole child, and reflections on the long asexual phase of her life are elegantly written, free of the bathos that frequently characterizes sensational tell-all memoirs. I thought frequently throughout this provocative book of the interesting gender issue it unwittingly raised: as a single guy about half a generation behind Jane, how much sympathy or empathy would I receive were I to publish my desire to have essentially zipless sex with women of all ages?