This New York Review Books classic reissue claims to be the kind of book that people are always rediscovering and adoring and then rediscovering a few years later. The introduction says that this is because Americans can’t respect funny books, and I think that is probably about true- also we tend to be terrible prudes. And this is a funny sexy book- as others have said, a female counterpart to Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis.
I really enjoyed it, although the flighty character made me extremely nervous. She drinks too much and sleeps with the most wrong men and makes bad decisions and doesn’t think of her friends. And she’s an actress. And basically it hit too close to home. But very funny, and very fifties bohemian.
