Customer Reviews

Suicide Blonde

5 star:		(14)
4 star:		(12)
3 star:		(7)
2 star:		(4)
1 star:		(17)

 

 

Many of the reviews seem disappointed that the book didn't live up to the promise of its cover. Hmm. Well, never judge a...never mind.

Not a great book, but a pretty good one. It reads at times like the product of a graduate school writing program, a bit too self-conscious and self-reflexive in spots, too afraid to let the reader figure things out for himself or herself. One of the more annoying qualities are the passages where the protagonist is compelled to diagnose herself and the other characters in the book. But this may have been a deliberate device, since she also describes herself as "the worst kind of person, attractive, overeducated, raised with middle-class delusions of grandeur."

As a whole, it is sleight and a little wanting, but she mines the story for all it's worth. The imagery in some places is reminiscent of "Steppenwolf", her descents into debauchery echoing some of the hypnotic and hallucinatory alternate "realities" that he experiences at the end of that novel. I suggest just going with them -- don't be too terribly concerned if they don't make sense, they're supposed to be dreamlike. Steinke is no Hesse, but I'm sure a Freudian (if any true ones still exist -- we might have to use a Jungian) could find plenty to both love and hate in this short book. But be forewarned, it also takes some of the more unpleasantly frustrating and non-sensical twists and turns reminiscent of Kazuo Ishiguro's "The Unconsoled." At least "Suicide Blonde" won't take you 500+ pages to realize that you don't like it.

Ah, the well turned phrase. It has moved mountains, and moved bowels. In the case of Darcey Steinke's book, for me, it was the latter. I found this book to be profundly unmoving and completely, laughably unbelievable. And yet, it takes itself so seriously! Steinke's protagonist is a self-absorbed, insecure, and completely unempathetic young woman with manifold unresolved issues with her Mother. In other words, 'pass the bridget jones, and sprinkle her with leather and piss'. It's just so boring and contrived it made me concoct fantasies of my own suicide while reading it. Let's see...yet another novel about a woman in her 20's obsessed with an unattainable man who tumbles headlong into self destruction and bemoans every aspect of her life while simultaneously possessing immense beauty, privilege, and educational background. How very droll!Noone in this book ever eats, sleep, goes to work, or has a satisfying personal encounter, and yet they all have roofs over their heads and cash for nine dollar cocktails in the Tenderloin.

Believe it or not, I really wanted to love this book. Steinke writes beautifully and lyrically in a way that suggests great talent. But the scenes of sexual depravity are just all so unconvincing. You never really *believe* that jess is living all of these experiences. She's clearly just fabricating them, as she fabricates her relationship with Bell. And the suicide at the end is such an anti-climax it's almost funny.

Despite my disdain for this book, I'd probably read her next one, simply to see if she's grown into what she seems capable of being-- an incredibly gifted lyric noverlist whose stories are currently too fanciful and bizarre to be even interesting. This book should be listed under sci-fi.

This book for some might be a bit werid to follow... but if you hang in there for the first chapter you'll get in to it. I have to admit I picked the book up off the bookshelf in the store and opened it up and read the first 2 sentences and thought... "gonna get this one too" as i put it in my basket. The book is written very beautifully. You feel as if you can relate to this character the more you read it. Wants mothers attention. Going from boyfriend to boyfriend.. maybe even a girkfriend in there too. But the book all blows down to is reality and what we all think inside out heads! Great Beach read.. if you liked this I would recommend "LAYOVER" by Lisa Zeidner... this and her book could have been written by the same person. Both great reads! 5 stars...

This short novel comes across as a rambling, loose stream of self-pity and self-loathing. Jesse, the lead character, seems overly passive, drinks through-out the novel. The brief encounters she has with the so-called San Francisco underlife are sporadic and lame. If you are looking for a good reading novel or like mild erotica, this book isn't the one.

I have to admit I initially bought this book for the cover. That beautiful naked, blonde woman smoking...yeah. Look at it one more time.

People call this book pretentious, over-the-top and self-conscious. Well they can go do that, but I liked the book. I'm not going to describe the events in the book because the review above did so already..., but I'll tell you why I liked it.

Like Dacey Steinke's _Jesus Saves_, _Suicide Blonde_ attempts to get inside the ennui, if you will, of a middle-class run-of-the -mill minister's daughter. We have all wondered what it would be like to run away, start a new life, or do something like become a prostitute (well, mine anyway). Maybe most of us know that the life of the prostitute, fo example, is anything but a viable escape, but still, the thought crosses our mind: the anonymity, the base sex, the flip-side of a "proper" woman's behavior. Steinke lets you vicariously explore this option and see that not everyone dwells in the world where degrees matter, boyfriends stay and content suburban life is a goal to be reached. So, maybe Jesse is, as one reviewer put in "slumming," not really having to live this life but "just visiting." But following her through those turbulent few weeks, we the reader too are slumming and watching an unbelievable chain of events play out. And watch Steinke's ability as a grat story-teller remove you from your existence to another. And isn't that what a good novel is supposed to do? So, it won't change your life, won't help you quit smoking, lose wieght, find a man and have a gentically perfect baby, but who wants those things anyway?

This is not the sort of book I ordinarily read, but one reason to read is to see into the minds of authors and characters that are completely different from oneself. So I read Suicide Blonde. The book is just as pessimistic and depressing as the title suggests. While the book does not provide insight into why the characters are so emotionally messed up, this is perhaps because it is written in the first person, and the main character seems to have no understanding of herself. She does, on the other hand, sometimes say things that are intriguing and make one stop and think, such as: "What is love but nostalgia for someone's history?" I shall not give anymore of these pithy statements away, as they are what makes reading the book worthwhile. But despite these little gems, the author presents a view of life and people I do not care to ever encounter again.
(Peter Payne, Author of CAPTAIN CALIFORNIA BATTLES THE BEELZEBUBIAN BEASTS OF THE BIBLE)

I discovered a copy of this book in the trunk of a friends car. A seemingly wise place to keep a library. Upon spying the cover I decided that I had to give it read. I imagined that the book would be lined with sex like some exquisitely wonderful soft porn debauch. However, 'twas not the case. This book quickly falls apart and crumbles in upon itself.

As I eased snugly into the backseat of said girls car, travelling enroute to San Diego, I delved deep into the subplots and foreshadow. I am here to report that in both cases, Darcy Steinke fell shy. The writing was abominable, lacking direction and substantive charm. There was no heavy handed insight to enlighten the faint of heart. There was no poetic digress to laugh out loud with or to quietly lose onself in darkened and unkempt bathrooms. Steamy visualization is not a requirement when discussing the lower forms of personal sexual enlightenment, but when it's time to deliver the goods, you better do so, and with haste and hopefully gusto. I've spied better journals in the nightstands of girlfriends while they showered in the morning. Questions for the masses: How does material like this get published? Who made the choice to pay this person? Is it any wonder why the literary world is in a downward spiral?

I usually strive to be more reserved when writing reviews, but as a writer - I have a moral obligation to stand up and assert something true and appropriate. Percentage wise, I work to submit only positive reviews. Forgive me for being hard, but when others work to be merely soft and fail, you tell me what's wrong with the picture. To the people who will not appreciate this review, I ask you only to consider, nothing more.

I bought this book absolutely excited, by its title, I love these kind of books, and the few good reviews I read. I don't have a very harsh judgment on books, nor do I ever really dislike many books. BUT this book for one, is not long AT all, so I should be done with it in one sitting right? WRONG, I got to the 4th chapter and was already bored out of my mind. Which by then I SHOULD be extremely into the book. Instead all I knew by the 4th chapter was that she was dick whipped, and the man was gay, weird, and wandered off... Honestly, she did better at describing every single object in her surroundings.... That is what the majority of the book is... A description of walls looking like vaginas, cat object, people sitting, and.... everything else you can imagine....

I was very disappointed by this book.

This book was okay. I think it tried too hard to be dark and sullen. I prefer other books, such as Brass.

I was at first enticed by the lured subject matter and depressing overtones, but soon found myself reading a rather mediocre book. Sucide Blonde is still compelling, despite a few dull and stereotypical characters. Namely the confused girl with the troubled past, the horribly depressed struggling bisexual actor, the amoral shameless whore, and the flashy obese woman longing for her younger days. It is quite easy to rush to judgement on this book, but despite some of its blandness, but there were a few redeeming qualities. The main character's, Jesse, descent into the seedy side of San Francisco with drugs and prostitution, was actually very interesting. This book borders very much so on erotic and doesn't cross into that realm that often, at some points it holds back. For those who enjoy a good story, despite a few cliches and trite subjects, this would be one to check out.