Although not a huge fan of it overall, I think postmodernism was the perfect style for this book, because sexual fantasies are, like postmodern writing, innately pretentious and silly at the same time. And Angela Carter is a lauded British writer – she died in 1992 – and her lush imagination and to-die-for similes and metaphors were truly inspired: it made it emotional and so very readable. I am glad I read the book, but I don’t know if I’m up for another in the same vein… because my eyeballs need calamine lotion, now.
Lessons: As with Mr. Attanasio, descriptions should strain to be as poetic as possible, different than what you have ever read before so it sticks in your head forever, and as perfect as you can possibly make them.
Some Angela Carter quotes.