I love memoirs. I love reading about real lesbians and what life was like back in the bad old days. And in the majority of cases, I can find some points on which to identify with or at least understand the author/main character....this book is the exception. The first chapter is great and details her encounter with the neighbourhood butch who is back "ruined" from the war. But it's downhill from there because our heroine is just too lazy and selfish to go and get a real job, for long, when she can pimp out other women or rob people. I have nothing against sex workers but I despise pimps. The fact that Frankie knows she is a user of people and keeps it up, makes her extremely unlikeable. In her favour, she doesn't try to blame it all on the drugs since that is a cop out and more importantly she continues this behaviour even when she kicks her habit.
The writing however is great. The author can really paint a picture and is very honest about her thoughts and actions. I just couldn't relate to her air of entitlement. And her idea of "butchilinity" comes across as plain old sexism. Note to author; you can be a butch without being a complete jerk.
Rating: 4 out of 5
Source of copy: personal library
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