A Glimpse of Stocking
By Elizabeth Gage
Simon & Schuster, 749 pages, $18.95
On a recent afternoon in Atlanta, I listened to a charming New York editor address a group of unpublished but hopeful writers. He explained the most popular literary genres: romance, science fiction, self-help, mystery and so on. Then he added, only half-joking, ”If you have a slut book, send it to me. That`s my special area of interest.”
Have I got a slut book for him! I`m assuming, by the way, that we all know what slut books are. They`re the ones we pick up when we`re not up to reading Real Books; they`re our trusty companions when a tooth has been extracted or a lover has gone. If a friend spots the latest Collins or Steele opus on the coffee-table, its foil jacket shrieking our lack of taste, we say, ”Oh, that`s not mine. The babysitter left it here.” Uh-huh.
Elizabeth Gage`s first novel is a slut book with a difference. ”A Glimpse of Stocking” is to slut books what Katarina Witt is to ice skating, what Haagen-Dazs is to ice cream. Truly discriminating readers of trash could do no better.
Once they get past the standard sleazy cover illustration-a pair of silky female legs in black spike heels-they will discover that the pseudonymous Gage (actually, Susan Libertson, a Glenview housewife-turned-author) is a writer of style and intelligence.
Her intricate plot combines all the best elements of Greek tragedy and soap opera. Annie and Christine are the pivotal figures in this particular psychodrama. Both are in their early 20s when the story opens in 1967. Both are astonishingly beautiful and driven by ambition, but Annie is as conscientious as Christine is amoral. Annie`s fiery desire to become a film actress is fueled by her need to avenge herself against a powerful movie mogul who brutally raped her when she resisted his casting couch advances.
Even the icy Christine, an expensive call girl whose specialties include dominance and blackmail, seems to have her reasons and her own peculiar rationale: She suffered horrific child abuse at the hands of her mother and an endless parade of Mommy`s faceless boyfriends.
Gage`s juxtaposition of light and dark, good and evil, creates an intriguing doppelganger effect. The intrigue deepens as the perimeters of each woman`s life interact, briefly but repeatedly, with the lives of a brilliant, alcoholic writer and a mysterious older woman. As the connection between Annie and Christine becomes clearer and a confrontation seems inevitable, the jaded reader may fear that Gage has painted herself into an anti-climactic corner. Don`t worry about being bored. The finale of ”A Glimpse of Stocking” is easily as shocking as the last scenes of ”Fatal Attraction,” and a lot more plausible.
Meaner reviewers might be tempted to point out the Elizabeth Gage sometimes telegraphs plot twists too obviously and too soon, or that she tends to fall back on bodice-ripper rhetoric in physical descriptions and love scenes. They would be right. But why quibble? An inventive, engaging story like ”A Glimpse of Stocking” is a little gem afloat in a sea of mindless rubbish.
