Normal Girl
A Novel
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- $9.99
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- $9.99
Publisher Description
"Randa, what's wrong with you?"
"Nothing. I mean, I'm a crazy cocaine addict with a hankering for heroin, but other than that, I'm just a nice Jewish girl from the Upper East Side with Prada shoes. How could anything be wrong?"
Molly Jong-Fast's Normal Girl is striking-and as funny as it as real. Inspired by her own experiences growing up in the decadent, fast-paced netherworld of New York City's jet set, Jong-Fast's debut novel is a hilarious, hard-edged walk past the velvet rope.
At just nineteen, Miranda Woke seems to have it all. Her parents are famous socialites, she's already been written up on Page Six sixteen times, she's on all the right invitation lists, and drugs and alcohol are never in short supply. But while her image screams "It girl," she'd rather be a normal girl, and the A-list feels even more uncomfortable than her Manolo Blahnik shoes. In fact, she's become the "living embodiment of an awkward phase" with "more issues than Harper's Bazaar." Neither Xanax nor Deepak Chopra tapes help. And now that her junkie party has trashed her parents' house, she has to liquidate her trust fund to pay Mom's decorator for a quick fix. But worst of all, Miranda thinks she just murdered her own boyfriend.
In an all-too-glamorous world where the cell phone is always ringing, Miranda sees no escape other than a downward spiral of cocaine, Valium, and heroin. It takes friends who offer more than air kisses to force Miranda to look in the mirror and get some help.
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"I leave the temple feeling empty," says Miranda Woke, the protagonist and first-person narrator of Jong-Fast's debut novel, as she exits the funeral of her drug addicted boyfriend. "The texture of the morning felt more like Oreo filler than anything remotely satisfying." The same could be said of the novel itself. Jong-Fast, the 21-year-old daughter of writers Erica Jong and Jonathan Fast (and granddaughter of octogenarian novelist Howard Fast) has written an uneven chronicle of the downward spiraling life (and shaky beginnings of recovery) of 19-year-old Miranda, addicted to cocaine, Valium and heroin, who is the daughter of Diana, a New York socialite, and architect Jason Woke, "the Frank Lloyd Wright of his generation." Poor little rich girl Miranda is sometimes amusing as she discusses the foibles of what she calls the MAM (Madison Avenue Mafia), which she says "operates under one of the basic principles of Zen Buddhism: mindfulness. They may not be mindful of you or me but they make up for it with a self-obsession so blinding that the sun looks tame." But more often than not her attempts at cuteness are glib and forced, as when she lists guests at an important opening of one of her father's buildings as "Partha Dewart, decorator to the stars, and Pawn Snuffy Bones, the rap star." Though her rampages can be entertaining, self-pitying Miranda makes it difficult for readers to empathize with her as she struggles to come to terms with her addictions and find out whether she accidentally helped her boyfriend overdose. She trashes her mom's country house, shares a bottle of Wild Turkey with a homeless man and describes herself as "another fallen institution... further proof that children of famous people are like communism--better in concept than in practice." While it is witty at times, this tale of meltdown and resurrection is ultimately too much like its protagonist: sexy but superficial.
