LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
Booked Solid |
Review by Rebecca James |
Tipping the Velvet, by Sarah Waters 1998, 472 pages, hardback England, 1880's. Young Nancy Astley witnesses the Whitstable debut of Kitty Butler, male impersonator, a 'masher', and immediately falls in love. Her religious attendance to the performances do not go unnoticed by Butler, who befriends the plain-faced girl. Astley eventually joins Butler in London as her dresser but quickly the act becomes a singing, swinging, swaggering duo. Astley finds that her close companionship with Butler combined with the erotic sensation of cross-dressing awakens a part of her that had laid dormant during her years in Whitstable. The secret lovers take London by storm. Astley thinks she has found her niche: "I was her foil, her echo; I was the shadow which, in all her brilliance, she cast across the stage. But, like a shadow, I lent her the edge, the depth, the crucial definition, that she lacked before." Sarah Water's first novel is saturated with language that evokes vivid images of historic London's mysterious underground gay scene. From bawdy music halls and grimy city streets to the nearly palatial estates of upperclass Sapphic society, her characters come to life in wonderful, theatrical splendor. "Beyond our songs, our steps, our bits of business with coins and canes and flowers, there was a private language...not of the tongue but of the body, its vocabulary the pressure of a finger or palm, the nudging of a hip, the holding or breaking of a gaze, that said, You are too slow-you go too fast-not there, but here-that's good-that's better!" Astley, who lives under the stage name Nan King, describes her rise and fall from fame, a story filled with secrets and betrayal, desperate survival and the absolute triumph of life. The pair's romance is cut short when a particularly rowdy crowd guesses at the true nature of their friendship and humiliates Butler. The experience leaves King scarred and untrusting. Alone, she must use her costumes to transform herself into a young 'pretty' man, and survives through her services to gentlemen on the avenues as well as a wealthy, widowed mistress. To this woman, Diana, Nan is Neville, her kept 'boy' companion, displayed to choice ladies of high society, complete with expensive perfume, silk trousers, and supple leather strap-on. Waters' writing is thick with eroticism, to nearly pornographic detail, but is described in terms foreign and delicious to the modern American reader. The desperate nature of the characters' acts, combined with the literal and figurative masks they wear, make a magnificent climax to King's experiences as a 'renter' and 'tart'. Nancy Astley undergoes several 'rebirths' throughout the novel. After her debut as Nan King, performer, and her survival on the streets, she is tired. Searching for a true happy medium for the 'tom' she has discovered inside herself takes King into the company of yet another family. This one, perhaps, she can call her own. I love to bury myself in the story of other people's lives, to smell the brine and liquor of a Whitstable oyster on my fingers, 100 years ago. Via Sarah Waters' talent, I was able to transport myself to another time and place, where lesbians were toms, easily identifiable (at least by each other) by the men's shirt tucked into their skirts, and perhaps a tie knotted carefully at their necks. Close-cropped heads drew stares then, and the sight of a woman's bare neck was thrilling and enough to send a tom's heart pattering. Suffrage and labor unions were the hot topics for the activist set, yet another scene visited in Tipping the Velvet. From her background, I gather that Waters has done her homework on European gay life at the turn of the century. What makes it even more interesting is that the book is written in the first person, and that character (King) is believable as someone they may have lived during that time. The slang, the interpretations of different situations are all examined as they truly would be by a girl from a secluded English fishing village. [I must confess, there is something about English spelling and dialect that I have always loved; the theatres, the colours, and the harbours seem to come alive at once. It's a peculiar thing, I know, but it stems from the odd books I read growing up that made the other children look at me funny when I talked. I remember reading A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (a true classic for young girls) and laughing with delight when Francie, the quiet, bookish main character, encountered the same problems. I've never been able to spell worth a damn since.] All in all, Waters' novel is an incredible success, with a flowing, sensual writing style, historical interest, and engaging characters. Waters, a native of Wales, has previously published articles and essays on gay and lesbian culture and history. Her talent for historical fiction is obvious, though, after reading only a few pages of Tipping the Velvet (which, by the way, is a beautiful euphemism for cunnilingus). I was completely engrossed in the story immediately, and spent several nights reading until two or three in the morning, struggling to keep my eyes open for just one more chapter. (Watching you-know-who bury her face under the pillow and groan "PLEASE turn off the light"!)The provocative encounters of the characters have qualities that would appeal to people of all different 'tastes', lesbians, gay men, and our straight friends, too. It is worth reading for the language alone, although the plot is well-written and rarely, if ever, drags. Perfect for a late night read, or an afternoon at the beach. Be careful that you don't lose track of time, though; it would be easy to end up crispy-fried when the story is this good! Enjoy! |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 9, No. 10, July 30, 1999 |