Synopsis
Now Rita Mae Brown, author of the bestselling classic Rubyfruit Jungle, returns with her most wonderfully irreverent and thoroughly entertaining novel yet. What happens when a wildly successful Southern belle inadvertently tells the truth about her life to her family, her friends, her lover, and herself?
At thirty-five, Mary Frazier Armstrong, called "Frazier" by friends and enemies alike, is a sophisticated green-eyed blonde with a thriving art gallery, a healthy bank balance, and an enviable social position. In fact, she has everything to live for, but she's lying in a hospital bed with a morphine drip in her arm and a life expectancy measured in hours. "Don't die a stranger" Mandy Eisenhart, her assistant at the gallery, says on her last hospital visit. "Tell the people you love who you are, or write them." And so, as her last act here on earth, Frazier writes letters to her closest family and friends, telling them exactly what she thinks of them and, since she will be dead by the time they receive the letters, the truth about herself: She's gay.
The letters are sent. Then the manure hits the fan in Charlottesville, Virginia ... because Frazier Armstrong wakes up the next morning to hear her doctor explaining that it's all been a mistake. Frazier can look forward to a long, happy life. But if this formerly dutiful daughter isn't dying, she certainly seems to be facing a descent into hell: Her mother, Libby, committee woman extraordinaire,is throwing a hissy fit; her best friend, the gay hunk Billy Cicero, is cutting her dead; her former lover, Ann, is having hysterics now that "everyone is going to know"; and her gorgeous, charming brother Carter whose two favorite activities are getting drunk and getting laid, is gleefully spreading the word that his can-do-no-wrong sister is a dyke.
Yet Frazier soon realizes she's spent her whole life steeling herself against people, and hiding - and not just because she is gay. After three decades of having "a near-life experience," she is determined to make a new beginning - as a brash, brazen, and totally irresistible woman who will raise the act of coming out of the closet into an art form.
Rita Mae Brown once told an interviewer "Next time anyone calls me a lesbian writer I'm going to knock their teeth in. I'm a writer and I'm a woman and I'm from the South and I'm alive, and that is that." Frazier Armstrong couldn't have put it better.
Reviews
The risible title is arguably the best thing about Brown's latest comic novel, the tale of a woman who unwittingly comes out of the closet in midlife when she is diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. Under the impression that she is on her deathbed, wealthy North Carolina art dealer Mary Frazier Armstrong mails a series of brutally candid letters to her kith and kin, only to discover that she isn't dying after all. Brown delivers some nicely sketched southern characters: Mary Frazier's imperious mother, Libby, whose long-simmering anger has poisoned her daughter's life; her sensitive brother, Carter, an alcoholic redneck whose lifelong self-destructiveness is partly a response to Mary Frazier's success; her closeted lover, Ann, who is made uncomfortable by their claustrophobic secret life; and her dazzlingly outrageous gay friend Billy Cicero. But this gallery of character sketches cannot save the story from predictability and a deeply unconvincing resolution. Arch dialogue, lack of plot and an overall inattentiveness to nuance are the distinguishing features here. Fans of Brown's previous books ( Bingo ; Rest in Pieces ) may enjoy this story, but first-time readers are bound to be disappointed.
Copyright 1993 Reed Business Information, Inc.
More frothy fun from the queen of southern sexual farce--this featuring a former debutante who comes out of the closet in gossipy, backstabbing Virginia. ``Dying's not so bad. At least I won't have to answer the telephone,'' remarks 35-year-old Mary Frazier Armstrong, who's lying in the hospital with a terminal case of lung cancer. A stressed-out art-gallery owner with brilliant business instincts and drop-dead looks, the well-born Virginian cares more about dying than she'll admit to others and--on what she believes to be her final night--scribbles half a dozen heartfelt messages to her nearest and, in some cases, dearest. The next morning Frazier learns that her diagnosis resulted from a computer error and that she suffers only from bronchitis--but the letters, in which she finally informed her loved ones that she was gay--have already gone to the post office and can't be retrieved. Happy to be alive but dreading the nasty backlash sure to come, Frazier has no choice but to brace herself for the catty remarks, social snubs, tears, and general lambasting that inevitably do come her way. Only Frazier's eccentric aunt, her stoic father, her loyal assistant, a bisexual friend, and, when not in his cups, her layabout brother stand up for Frazier while society's vultures circle to rip her to shreds. But Frazier's a survivor--and when the pressure grows too great, she simply escapes via a fantasy visit into a painting of Mount Olympus, to sport with the ancient, wiser goddesses and gods. Brown's story drapes thinly across a tiresome string of platitudes (``You are as sick as you are secret,'' ``Normal is the average of deviance,'' ``Death is like a punctuation mark, a period at the end of a sentence,'' etc.), but her sexual frankness and flippant humor are as refreshing as always. (First printing of 75,000) -- Copyright ©1993, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.
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