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Mommy's Little Girl
by Susie Bright
Okay, I have a
confession to make. I’ve never read anything by Susie Bright. Yes, it’s
true. She’s been holding forth on erotic topics for years now and I
have yet to read one word. But it has nothing to do with Susie
personally. I’m just not a reader. Well, okay, I read fiction on
vacations. But when I’m home, I can barely keep my eyes open once I
flop into bed at 5am, so no bedtime books for me. And as for other free
time, well, it’s a full time job being fabulous! I do manage to peruse
some news while on the elliptical at the gym, but I don’t think erotica
would be advisable. Though I suppose any signs of excitement might be
interpreted as exertion. Anyway, I wanted to come clean with you all
before I launched into my first full-on review of a fellow sexpert and
smutmeister like Susie. To put things into context, don’tcha know.
So I’ll start by saying that I loved this book. I felt like this woman
was sitting across from me in a coffee shop and dishing; it was totally
effortless reading. I laughed out loud in some spots, got weepy in
others and felt generally inspired to live a fuller, more satisfying
sex life. That should be reason enough to read it. The book is a
collection of many previously published columns, some from Salon.com’s
“Susie Bright’s Sexpert Opinion” and Libida, among others. They’ve been
reworked, but anyone who voraciously devours every word Ms. Bright
writes may experience a few flashes of déjà vu.
In the Pornoland chapter, Susie muses on sex, sexuality and so forth as
it relates to the current cultural climate. She manages to wrangle
capitalism and raincoat flashers, Vargas art and Victoria’s Secret,
fetishism and feminism, all into one hilarious commentary on how
repressed we still are. Sigh. Who’d’a thunk Puritanism would still
prevail? But we have folks like Susie to thank for their tireless
attempts to enlighten even the darkest corners of the country. Her book
tour tales are both inspiring and appalling—appalling mostly because of
her slightly chilly experience in Manhattan. I live here, dammit, and
people definitely are enjoying fulfilling sex lives. Susie, you’ll have
to come back through next time and let me show you around. Uh-oh,
shades of obsessed interns, another topic Ms. Bright endearingly
touches upon. And might I also recommend that on future tours she
venture into a few of those truly darker corners. We know there are
plenty of sexually aware folks in Portland and Santa Cruz. What we need
is someone to wake up the walking dead in the Midwest. And a cherry
pie-baking mom like Susie might be just the right person!
Which brings me to my only bit of criticism: Probably the parts I
related to the least were those dealing with her daughter. I’m not a
big fan of motherhood, to be honest; jealous, perhaps, of my not
winding up with the white picket fence life I imagined for myself back
when I was playing with Barbies. Or maybe I prefer not to drag children
into the realm of the erotic. But Ms. Bright is brave to blend the two,
however, and her tales of “what mommy does for a living” will entertain
anyone who works way outside the mainstream and may be grappling with
the idea of reproducing. It also softens the subject matter
considerably, giving a middle America spin to what has, up until now,
seemed so far beyond the pale that seeing kids and kink in the same
table of contents would inspire shock or legislation as opposed to
chuckles. Perhaps we’ve come farther than I thought.
Wherever we find ourselves in our own personal sexual revolutions, we
have Susie Bright to thank for a piece of the metamorphosis. Even
though I haven’t been reading along with her life’s lessons, I realize
now, having caught up with her at what I’m assuming is my exact same
age, I’ve been benefiting from her trailblazing and teaching regardless
of whether I was actually aware of it. Read this book and you, too, can
join us in the smart kids’ class.
[Written Sept. 2005]
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