A year after the unanticipated success of Fear of Flying, the
uncanonized "Matron Saint of Adulteresses" had already programmed
her next book, i.e. this book. So this is where we're now at as
Isadora Wing (of F O F), otherwise Candida of Candida Confesses,
otherwise - how could it be otherwise - Erica, plans to abandon her
seven room co-op and her glum, methodical Oriental psychiatrist
husband who had been so supportive. Just like Leonard Woolf. But
unfaithful, even if it took her so long to discover his infidelity
in Heidelberg while she had only been guilty of a couple of "mercy
fucks." In the same off-the-wall fashion, this ultimate femme
sensuelle ("Someday every woman will have orgasms - like every
family has color TV") vamps the same material. There are scenes
(again she's best when transplanted - to Zurs, skiing, or
Hollywood) with some of her friends; a Lesbian WASP who is so
unforthcoming; two Jeffreys, one with an esoteric disease; her
agent, a horrible little gargoyle four-feet-ten under her russet
Afro. Finally there's love love love i.e. sex sex sex with Josh, at
the Beverly Hills Hotel. On occasion the humor is hard-won ("Mary
Cunt; Elizabeth Ardent") and overindulgence nullifies. But Miss
Jong is her same cheerful self and has a funny tongue in that sassy
mouth. The book is sure to be another zipless zinger. (Kirkus
Reviews)
Picks up the story of Isadora three years after the events of 'Fear of Flying'. Isadora is by now an older, wiser and somewhat more rueful heroine. This time her odyssey takes her to the never-never land called California where she meets a variety of sharks, knaves, fools - and one real lover.
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