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5 of 5 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Loving Lisa, July 27, 2001
I was late coming into touch with Lisa Carver. _Dancing Queen: A Lusty Look at the American Dream_ (Henry Holt) was published five years ago, and I didnt know it. I got to know her writing from her uninhibited diary entries at the fine adult site Nerve.com (The Community of Thoughtful Hedonists). So, I was glad to take a look into _Dancing Queen_ in order to understand the past of this peculiar woman. It is a slim volume of her essays on white trash, kissing, other ladies bodies, and more. It is enormous fun. Whats nice is that as different as Lisa is from anybody, she is happy and optimistic. Ive done lots of stupid things, but Ive enjoyed myself. _Dancing Queen_ is about _liking_ stuff. Its about how pleasing it can be to be poked and probed by the hairdresser, by the gynecologist, by killer bears, by the thirty-six-year-old ski instructress in _Princess Daisy_. She is impatient with those who dont have fun; she cannot comprehend a whole essay by a woman who was upset that some men hooted at her, for instance. I _like_ to be hooted! She gives us rants that certainly are self-indulgent, but you cannot expect anything different from someone who indulges herself with such lewdness, shamelessness, and fun.Not only are her opinions odd, but it is obvious she enjoys getting them into words. In the chapter about her sensual enjoyment of a trip to the gynecologist (It is the _illicit_ pleasure caused by _necessary_ procedures performed by _removed_ professionals that gets my temperature rising.), she says that a certain kind of girl likes a visit to the gynecologist as much as Christmas: It only happens once a year and she gets lots of things she wants. She skips to the clinic while visions of speculums dance in her head. She gushes over the ghost-written novels of perfect specimen Fabio (Hes always mentioning condoms in his pirate books) and informs us that They contain bold lines like: 1. I am a man of the sea. 2. Go hide in the fields, woman. 3. Mayhaps she thinks I am doing something bad. It was this sort of literature that fired her pre-adolescent fantasies: At twelve, I had as much sex drive as the entire U.S. Army and absolutely no idea what to do with it. Not to worry; she has since learned. They sold me a roadmap to ecstasy covered in highways of trouble, and I couldnt wait to visit every site on the map. Lisa is hilarious when discussing just a trip to the hairdresser, or K-Mart, or Olivia Newton John, but the best chapter in the book is entitled An Iron Fist in a Polyester Glove: Lawrence Welk. What is he doing here? Well, when Lisa was little, To me, the constant, ultra-close-ups of moist-lipped, moist-eyed, soft-bosomed lady singers lined up side by side in matching outfits like chickens to be plucked were an open call to perversion. She has since made an extensive study of Lawrences several autobiographies, where she must have learned that he originally picked up an accordion and set out to conquer the world, as Lawrence Welk & His Hotsy Totsy Boys. While she doesnt gloss over Lawrences famous temper, she finds, surprisingly, a kindred spirit, someone who had a dream: extreme close ups of _nice_ people singing nice songs and dancing anachronistic dances against insanely cheerful backdrops. Its a beautiful dream! This isnt for everyone. Lisa is frank, naughty, and lustful. She throws sexual fantasies in even when discussing a sequence of post-Glasnost Russian leaders. If you like smart people who write enthusiastically well, and if you appreciate that to be peculiar is also to be interesting, this is certainly worth a look. Oh, and hot off the Lisa Diaries on Nerve.com: Lisa is trying to get pregnant again. That kid is going to have plenty to think about.
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