I wish I could
say that Harold Robbins had a glorious career. But the truth of the matter is,
by the late ‘70s, the author had become a shadow of himself. Partying took a
toll on his writing and his work suffered. So it came as no surprise that by the
time GOODBYE JANETTE (1981, Pocket) was
released my appreciation of him had started to dwindle. However I got to admit
that this novel was some sort of a turnabout for him. Gone are those
male-dominated central characters filling his pages. Just like in 1976 THE
LONELY LADY (Robbins at his sleazy best) the focus this time is on a heroine;
well, four of them since it’s a multi-generational piece. The setting: the
haute couture world—not very macho for a Robbins book. His unfavorable view of
women, however, is still an ongoing thing.
Indeed, every female
in this book is the scapegoat of his wicked pen. Including the title character who, still a
pre-teen, gets used and abused and loves it (!). The culprit is a closeted homosexual
(of course he is) who has the biggest peen (of course he does) and has
misogynistic tendencies (gasp, double gasp—not). The apparels chosen for her
(and his other conquests) could easily rival those of Christian Grey but not his
technique. He’s more the sadistic kind. Just like its author, it seems, who clearly
gets off making his readership his bitch.
Another thing
that is technically omitted from GOODBYE
JANETTE is the author’s first-person POV, which is more than fine with me
since I’ve never been too keen on this trademark of his. The novel is cut into
four parts, spawning over many years and continents. When the story diverges
from smut and focuses solely on the business side of fashion GOODBYE JANETTE is a fine read. You can
even tell that Robbins has some knowledge on the subject. But these feel-good moments
are pretty scarce. Of course, everyone is one-dimensional, and though you feel
as if you should at least connect with some character, however big or small,
you don’t. Instead you just go with the flow of bad writing and silly situations
while shaking your head in dismay.
GOODBYE JANETTE was Robbins’ last hit before being stricken with a
heart attack and confined to a wheelchair. He did manage to write other novels
until he passed away in 1997. Junius
Podrog took over posthumously in the early 2000s. Though his books are
supposedly well-tailored I doubt I will get to them. My reading choices have
evolved somewhat since then. But if in doing so he has succeeded in putting
Robbins name back in lights, more power to him I say. Robbins certainly
deserves at least that.
Until next post—Martin
2 comments:
Yup, I liked this one better than Descent From Xanadu, which I think I gave up reading about 3 quarters in. I may have already asked you if you have read the bio The Man Who Invented Sex, by Andrew Wilson. It was a fascinating read.
Hi Kurt. No, I have yet to read The Man Who Invented Sex. I will eventually get there, as I imagine it to be as lurid and out there as his novels. Thanks for reminding me and for revisiting this blog.
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