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IN Magazine, May 29-June 11, 2007
PARTY GIRL
The peppy title of Anna David's irresistible first novel -- a laugh-out-loud riot in parts -- may seem to promise a frothy Holly Golightly tale for the Paris Hilton (or Lance Bass) generation. After all, the book's jacket is covered with little martini glasses and its pages are chock-full of witty urban girl revelations and wink-wink debauchery (in fact, the book's partying protagonist, young celeb magazine writer Amelia Stone, kicks things off by recalling a three-way with two hot college chaps). But it soon becomes wrenchingly apparent that David named her book with heartbreaking irony. Spoiled, entitled, family-and relationship-challenged Amelia, it turns out, is a razor's edge-dancing drunk and coke fiend, the sort whose glam job is jeopardized by her proneness to do things like accidentally popping some Special K at Barney's Beanery, of all places, and winding up passed out in the parking lot.
It takes a serious Holly-Go-downward spiral for the self-absorbed snark (who knows her own requests for booze sometimes sound like "I'm reciting dialogue out of a made-for-TV movie with Tori Spelling") to realize she's an addict, and by then, Amelia lands a super-plum -- indeed, fame-making -- gig as the persona behind a naughty showbiz column called "Party Girl." So, unbeknownst to the whole celeb-watching world, the woo-hooing woman who's downing (faux) shots of tequila with the A-listers is sober -- and growing up.
David, who wrote for Details, People and Premiere before turning into a ubiquitous TV pundit, apparently has polished off something of a roman-a-clef (the jacket calls her a "recovering party girl"). But, dishy blind-item encounters and agent skewering aside, David hasn't served up another Devil Wears Prada-esque rant. Nor is it necessarily a dark, cautionary Permanent Midnight trip. Her prose is brutally honest and movingly heartfelt, and she and the sometimes hilarious side of selfish human behavior get the real tweaking here. Even with its minor faults (Amelia's closeted gay buddy in rehab is but a blur, and the ending, though satisfying, is perhaps a bit pat), Party Girl is the rare can't-put-down read that reminds you of yourself. |