Spring fire

by Vin Packer, Marijane Meaker

Spring Fire was the first lesbian pulp novel ever published. The original 1950s cover blared: "A story once told in whispers now frankly, honestly written." Shameless and seductive in an era when lesbian lives were hidden from view, Spring Fire chronicles the story of Leda and Mitch, two sorority sisters at a Midwestern university who stumble into a forbidden love affair. While their romance ends unhappily - in order to satisfy U.S. postal inspectors who would have seized shipments of a novel that affirmed lesbian love - Spring Fire touched the lives of countless lesbian and gay readers and cleared the way for the hundreds of lesbian pulps that were to come. This edition includes a new introduction by the author describing the story behind the novel's initial publication.

Genres: Fiction, LGBT, Queer, Lesbian, Romance, Classics, Gay

155 pages, Mass Market Paperback

About the author

Marijane Meaker (born May 27, 1927) is an American novelist and short story writer in several genres using different pen names. From 1952 to 1969 she wrote twenty mystery and crime novels as Vin Packer, including Spring Fire which is credited with launching the genre of lesbian pulp fiction (although few of Packer's books address homosexuality or feature gay characters). Using her own observations of lesbians in the 1950s and 1960s, she wrote a series of nonfiction books as Ann Aldrich from 1955 to 1972. In 1972 she switched genres and pen names once more to begin writing for young adults, and became quite successful as M.E. Kerr, producing over 20 novels and winning multiple awards, including the American Library Association's lifetime award for young-adult literature (Edwards Award). She was described by The New York Times Book Review as "one of the grand masters of young adult fiction." As Mary James, she has written four books for younger children.

Regardless of genre or pen name, Meaker's books have in common complex characters that have difficult relationships and complicated problems, who rail against conformity. Meaker said of this approach, "I was a bookworm and a poetry lover. When I think of myself and what I would have liked to have found in books those many years ago, I remember being depressed by all the neatly tied-up, happy-ending stories, the abundance of winners, the themes of winning, solving, finding — when around me it didn't seem that easy. So I write with a different feeling when I write for young adults. I guess I write for myself at that age."

Reviews

[Steph · Rating 2 out of 5]

WHOA. now that was depressing!!!

for years i've had several lesbian pulp novels languishing unread on my ereader. it was reading the lovely YA historical novel last night at the telegraph club that motivated me to finally read one. i'm really interested in lgbt+ history, and i was wondering what it would really feel like to be a confused kid who stumbles upon a lesbian pulp novel and sees themselves there.

in malinda lo's author's note for last night at the telegraph club, she mentions that spring fire is considered one of the first lesbian pulp novels. lesbian author m.e. kerr published it under a pseudonym in 1952, and many others followed in this genre.

i'm well aware of the bury your gays trope, and that wlw couples in literature are particularly likely to be doomed to tragic endings. what i didn't realize is that this was actually a requirement of the publishers; obscenity laws necessitated that lgbt+ characters be punished.

i know this review is unnecessarily long, but here are some interesting things about spring fire (with major spoilers under tag):

‣ our main characters are the naive young mitch and the bold, sexually experienced leda; sorority sisters and roommates. the power imbalance between the two plays into the predatory lesbian trope, as leda corrupts mitch with her sexuality.

‣  both of our main characters come from troubled families and have parent issues (dad issues for mitch and mom issues for leda). leda also has a history of childhood sexual abuse, probably meant to be an origin of her "abnormal" sexuality.

‣ the attraction starts right off the bat. mitch says she's drawn to leda, as though she sees a spark of recognition between them. i found this to be super gay and romantic!! but other than that, the romance doesn't have much going for it. their relationship is toxic, as leda continues dating her boyfriend, and the women are largely uncommunicative with each other. part of this is because they don't have the language needed to define their relationship.

‣ there are three (!!!!!) sexual assault scenes. mitch is targeted by an absolute piece of shit abuser that she goes on a date with, and finds comfort with leda afterward. i guess this is so their wlw relationship is born out of a traumatic and "perverse" situation? mitch has been hurt by a man, so she takes comfort in romantic love from a woman, which is different:

She was wanted and she wanted, and it was not a want striped with fear and hurt. It was a fragile want to be nurtured and cared for...

leda's relationship with her boyfriend, jake, is also toxic, and she finds solace in her safe, sapphic relationship with mitch:

There was a compulsion with Jake, a compulsion to be taken and used and discarded. And with Mitch it was not like that. With Mitch it was clean. It was impossibly clean.

the sexual assault scenes (and the majority of hetero interactions, for that matter) are really hard to read. as is the portrayal of casual rape culture that's perpetuated by many of the characters (both men and women).

‣ bisexuality is actually addressed!! sort of. mitch struggles with leda continuing to date jake while the two women are together. leda's response is to say that men come first, because "Sure, I've got bisexual tendencies, but by God, I'm no damn Lesbian." leda urges mitch to "Get to know men too," because being a lesbian is more dangerous than bisexuality:

There are a lot of people who love both and no one gives a damn, and they just say you're oversexed and they don't care. But they start getting interested when you stick to one sex.

i found this super interesting, because i don't know much about the history of bisexuality. i didn't even realize the term had entered the lexicon by 1952 (though it's certainly not used here as we would use it today). later, leda denounces bisexuality and says that she's trying to prove something to herself by being with jake, sooo it's still biphobic!!

‣ there's a heartbreaking scene where mitch looks up "lesbian" in the dictionary, and her mind becomes aswirl with self-hatred. she decides that she is "abnormal" to a greater degree than leda, since leda is at least able to carry out a romantic relationship with a man.

‣ the word "queer" is used pejoratively. a good reminder that though it's largely been reclaimed, it is still a slur with an ugly history.

‣ i was actually unsure of which character was going to be punished at the end (or if it was going to be both). leda is the predatory instigator, but she is bi and/or able to perform heterosexuality, unlike mitch.

ultimately, the two are walked in on by their sorority sisters. leda betrays mitch and accuses mitch of being predatory and deranged. leda ends up getting in a nasty car wreck, is hospitalized and diagnosed with homosexuality, suffers a nervous breakdown, and is institutionalized. mitch is allowed to start her life over, and decides she never loved leda at all. she’s presumably “cured” of homosexuality.

spring fire is definitely a fascinating read from a historical perspective, and i might read more lesbian pulp in the future. but it's dark and depressing as hell; full of nasty stereotypes and homophobia. all to be expected. but it makes me extra grateful for how far we've come.

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[Jayakrishnan · Rating 3 out of 5]

A doomed lesbian love affair. My second by Vin Packer/Marijane Meaker. It was quite racy. Don't think it was intended to be an erotic novel. It is about the status of women in 1950s America and attitude towards queer folk. I really do not think the author was too comfortable with her sexuality when she wrote this. Though she is quite candid about how American men treated women. Women were expected to put up with getting molested. Men (right down to a kind doctor who makes an appearance towards the end of the novel) are always described as smelling of alcohol and cigarettes. I am not sure why it is classified as pulp fiction. Shouldn't pulp fiction be about the working class? The characters in this were regular middle class people.

[Alan (the Lone Librarian) Teder · Rating 3 out of 5]

Descent into Madness
Review of the Kindle eBook edition (2022) of the Gold Medal Book paperback original (1952)

Spring Fire was Marijane Meaker's (writing under the pseudonym Vin Packer) pulp paperback about a lesbian romance between sorority sisters in 1952. The repressive atmosphere of that era had Meaker's publishers require that the romance should fail and be a cause of regret afterwards.

That is in contrast to the ending of Patricia Highsmith's lesbian romance (writing as Claire Morgan) The Price of Salt, also published in 1952, which was more optimistic. Meaker's book is more explicit about the physical romance however, with Highsmith being more restrained.


The cover of the Gold Medal Books paperback original (1952). Image sourced from Wikipedia.

Although my 2022 Kindle edition shares the cover design of the 2004 Cleis paperback & ebook Spring Fire, it does not include Marijane Meaker's then newly written introduction in which she apparently wrote that she was embarrassed about having the book republished, although it still stands as a breakthrough work for lesbian literature.

I read Spring Fire as an addendum to my recent Patricia Highsmith binge. Meaker and Highsmith were also involved in a earlier relationship about which Meaker later wrote a memoir Highsmith: A Romance of the 1950's (2003).

Trivia and Links
You can read Marijane Meaker's (1927-2022) obituary in The New York Times here.

You can read further about the background to the original publication of Spring Fire at Literary Ladies Guide by Francis Booth, March 21, 2021.

Marijane Meaker was interviewed for the Patricia Highsmith documentary film Loving Highsmith (2022) directed by Eva Vitija. You can see several excerpts of Meaker's interview in the trailer for the film here (she first says: "Pat was more dedicated than any writer I had ever met. Certainly she was very famous when I met her.").

[♑︎♑︎♑︎ ♑︎♑︎♑︎ · Rating 5 out of 5]

Vin Packer aka Marijane Meaker died this month at 95. What a groundbreaker. I don't think I appreciated her enough or understood the taboos she was breaking or how much she meant to her readers until I read her obit in The NY Times.

Here is a gift link (no paywall) for those who would love to know more about this groundbreaking author:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/12/11/bo...

[Sasha · Rating 4 out of 5]

In 1952 author Marijane Meaker, using the pen name Vin Packer presumably because she won the "Invent a gay male porn star name" contest, wrote what's credited as the first lesbian pulp fiction novel. That's a very specific thing to be first at, but there are a lot of books so okay. She and her publisher had to be careful: to escape censors, everyone had to end up either straight or institutionalized.

Meaker was unhappy with the book partly because of that ending - which she wrote so tepidly that no one could have failed to read between the lines - and partly because she was young and the book is fairly awkward. Which is partly the fault of the '50s, honestly; everyone was such dorks back then. The action is set (of course) in a sorority house full of terrible repressed young women who sing to each other a lot and dream of being "pinned" by hulking fraternity brothers. The brothers sing a lot too, wanna hear a song?

We are the great big, wow!
Hairy-chested men, wow!
Hairy-chested men!

See what I mean? Dorks. (All the songs, in Meaker's hands, develop a menacing tone; that's a nice trick.)

Dangerous dorks. I read this under the misapprehension that it was noir; it is not noir, but very bad things happen. Mitch's sisters passively arrange for her rape as punishment for her nonconformity. This is nightmarish, obviously, but I don't find it particularly unbelievable. And there is a femme fatale of sorts. Poor weak Leda, who sacrifices Mitch to save her own social image, is a pitiful and believable betrayer.

The story has its roots in Meaker's life, as I learned from her penetrating and self-deprecating introduction. She explored her sexuality at boarding school; a girlfriend's mother found a letter she'd written; she was punished. It was dangerous to not conform in the 50s, and particularly dangerous to be gay. And sororities and fraternities are still extremely dangerous places.

Meaker somewhat reluctantly agreed to let Spring Fire be republished ten years ago, and I'm glad she did. It feels like an honest document: these are the feelings that gay people had to wrestle with in the '50s, and the dangers they faced. (Obviously I don't know for sure - but Meaker does, that's the point of books.) It sold 1.5 million copies when it came out, a surprise smash hit; Meaker talks about the fan mail they got from lesbians across the country who recognized their own experiences. They're all doddering old people now, and I bet they were psyched to see this back in print. I'm psyched I got to read it, too. I'm not sure I'd go so far as to say it's important, but it's interesting. I like it.

[KV Taylor · Rating 2 out of 5]

Don't let the rating fool you: I think this is a great read for anyone interested in LGBTQ issues, history, and lit. It's particularly insightful when it comes to the lives of queer women in the collegiate setting, on old school sororities and fraternities, and biases and prejudices both within and without the queer community. The particularly difficult bits were the ones dealing with campus rape culture (which is at least coming to light these days, though, yeah, still a huge thing...) and the twisted perspective that held homosexuality as a disease of the mind. But no one goes into these lesbian pulp novels expecting rainbows and glittery unicorns. Can't have a happy ending--as was the rule back in the day, per the publishers.

While it's worth a read for history's sake and the writing does have moments of excellence, the plot is an absolute mess. It doubles back on itself, repeats its own points, and though the conflicts do raise in terms of tension and importance in a vague way, the whole thing falls apart instead of going anywhere in particular. That'd be all right if the character arcs... existed. Mitch and Leda both reach their apex of character development (which isn't saying much) in the middle, but thanks to editorial/publisher directive, Packer was forced to completely undo any progress they'd made.

So a difficult read, but an okay one, and interesting for sure.

[Jo Red · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was a difficult read. Really interesting historically, but storywise it was frustrating, repetitive and the main characters were flat to unlikeable. It started off ok-ish, but the small amount of character development that happened in the first half of the book was non-existent in the second half of the book.
I know that the book was immensely popular when it was released, but I really wonder how queer women in the 50s
felt after reading this.

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

Susan "Mitch" Mitchell goes to university and, despite her gauche ways, is accepted into the snooty Tri Epsilon sorority bevcause her daddy's rich. There she rooms with campus belle Leda Taylor, who one night seduces her -- even though Leda refuses to admit she's a lesbian and stubbornly maintains a guise of bisexuality by continuing to sleep gleelessly with her ghastly frat boyfriend Jake. The two girls succeed in keeping their affair secret for some while, but when they're finally caught in flagrante Leda lies through her pretty little teeth to put all of the blame on Mitch. Luckily the wise old College Dean suspects this may not be the whole truth . . .

I became interested in Packer's work because of her pulp crime fiction, so thought I'd give this a try. Despite the horrendous cop-out at the end -- forced (and probably wisely, in that era) on Packer by her editor -- I found the lesbian-novel aspects of the book to be a bit pulpish but nonetheless quite interesting: its elements are, after all, those of many other romance novels, whatever the gender of the participants. On the other hand, I found the descriptions of sorority life in all its infantility, spitefulness and cliquishness so revolting that I almost abandoned the book on occasion; even rape is something to be glossed over if it might embarrass the sorority or harm its relationship with a powerful fraternity. (Toward the end I discovered that Packer's views on sororities were the same as mine, that she'd intended to revolt us!)

Packer manages to slip in the occasional subversive line that her editor may not have noticed. For example: "And Travis King had false teeth, which only made her more beautiful and which she talked about, often, in mixed company."

Thankfully we've moved on a bit since those days -- or, at least, most of us have -- and at least in developed countries people are generally (though to our shame far from always) able to be open about their sexuality. That said, as an item of historical interest, Spring Fire is certainly well worth reading -- and, as it's fairly short by today's standards, doing so doesn't take too long.

[carlageek · Rating 2 out of 5]

My comprehensive study of lesbian life in the McCarthy era must obviously include the profoundly influential and popular works of Vin Packer and Ann Bannon. I'll write here about the former's Spring Fire and the latter's Odd Girl Out together, and post my comments on the pages for both books.

The two are strikingly similar; Bannon has of course acknowledged her debt to Packer but even knowing that had not prepared me for the identical match of setting and characterization of the principals: the sorority house; the popular, beautiful, mercurial senior with anger issues; the innocent bumpkin of a pledge who happens to be her roommate, and in whom she sparks feelings the poor girl struggles to understand and yet cannot resist. Both authors were constricted by their times, by popular mores and more practically by federal obscenity laws, and at the same time encouraged by editors to skirt the lines drawn by these constraints as closely as possible.

If only they had been encouraged to write better. Some people find these books don't age well because of their terrible endings, in which young lesbians either generally either go completely insane, or are cured by psychiatry or by the love of a good, strong man. I find the weak prose far more objectionable than any of that.

To be fair, each of these was a first novel for its respective author. And dime-store pulp novels, which is what these were, were not known for their literary quality; indeed that wasn't what their audiences wanted. And yet I know for a fact that both of these authors are capable of much, much better. These books would have had a very different history had they been written with a more literary approach. But I cannot begrudge them the history they did have, which is remarkable. And I cannot begrudge the millions of readers who were touched by them, and who might never had read them if they had been written with more literary craft. They are what they are, and they are interesting in their own right for that.

[Shoshanna · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is probably the last mid century Lesbian Paperback I'm going to read (I don't think any others are available on audio). It was the first one really written, and unlike the works of Ann Bannon (which I loved), this book, like those by Valerie Taylor and Patricia Highsmith, was actually written by a Lesbian.

This book was published in 1952 and takes place right around then, as well. It takes place on a college campus, in a very very strict fraternity / sorority system, which seems to make the rules of straight society even stricter. There is a lot of sweetness, though maybe not as much as in Bannon or Highsmith. It has my mid century paperback trifecta in it:

1) Use of "lighted" instead of "lit
2) Use of "high," "stoned," or "tight" for "drunk
3) Adults drinking milk in a glass

I will say that this has a sad ending. It's pretty well known, and that was a rule set by the publisher. If a happy ending had been used, the books could have been seized by authorities as indecent!

[Nick Guzan · Rating 3 out of 5]

More historically significant than it is a satisfying story, though author Marijane Meaker ("Vin Packer" herself) unapologetically explains the censorship forces at work in the book's stirring introduction that was added much later: "We did what we had to do, informed by the times."

Spring Fire (not her intended title either!) does indeed make for interesting reading as Meaker deftly recreates the world of a typical 1950s co-ed college campus. The censorship-dictated ending is an obvious disappointment, but at least Patricia Highsmith's masterful The Price of Salt exists for a more satisfying story and conclusion.

[Claire · Rating 2 out of 5]

If you want to understand more about how toxic life was in the 50's for women, especially if you were lesbian or bisexual, then this is the book for you. Also shines a light on college campus and the fraternity/sorority systems of privilege, a truly grim read.

[Kris · Rating 3 out of 5]

When I found out that an alumna of my university, a fairly famous author, had written possibly the first lesbian pulp novel, I knew I had to read it. The lesbian bits aside, this reads like a 1950s version of a teen novel, crossed with an issue of True Romance.

[a · Rating 3 out of 5]

As a contemporary reader this book is horrible(!!!!), but it is a fascinating snapshot of its time. The very definition of a lesbian pulp.

And that last line. Oooh boy. lol.

[Hex · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a book I originally read as an assignment for my Queer Lit class in college. This book is a milestone as the first lesbian "pulp" novel ever written. It was published in 1952, and the earmarks of the period are all over it, especially in the ending that was forced into it.

Spring Fire was published under the name Vin Packer, a pseudonym for Marijane Meaker. The story is somewhat based on an experience that she had in boarding school, where she originally wanted it set, like many of the stories we read or see in movies nowadays. However, here is where the executive meddling started. They demanded the story be moved to college, as boarding school would make the girls seem too young. Thus, it was moved to a sorority. The original title "Sorority Girl" was pre-empted in an attempt at confusion marketing, hoping that people that wanted to buy "The Fires of Spring" might buy "Spring Fire" instead.

The story is somewhat familiar to those of us who read a lot of LGBT literature. Mitch is a tomboyish girl who gets into the exclusive Tri Epsilon Sorority at a fictional university through a legacy and promises of alumni gifts. She is drawn to the beautiful, fiercely independent and wild Leda Taylor. They become roommates and Leda draws her into double-dating, which goes horribly, and leads to the sorority being blackballed.

Giving into peer pressure, Mitch agrees to go to a fraternity party, where she is raped by the fraternity president. Leda finds her in shock and calms her down by confessing her love for her. The two begin a secret, passionate relationship, despite publicly dating boys. Leda pushes how they must follow men and how they must keep themselves secret, even turning from ignoring to affectionate depending on who if anyone is present (most notably her mother.)

And again, we see where the executive meddling changed everything. Here, the writing tenor changes, like the ending was pasted on. In 1952, the ending had to be changed because the post office wouldn't send anything that made homosexuality seem "normal" "healthy" or "good." So, this happens:

Mitch tries to sleep with the boy she's dating, but he can't perform, and Mitch blames herself. She tries to leave the sorority, convinced that Leda is somehow affecting her, or infecting her, but Leda tries to seduce her again. They're caught by the sorority. Leda turns on Mitch and reads a love letter aloud, trying to convince them that Mitch attacked her.

Mitch is interrogated by the college, and guilty, Leda falls into a drunken depression. Leda crashed on the way to her interrogation, and is found calling out for Mitch in a drunken, injured, delirious state, and is sent to a hospital.

Mitch visits Leda once, leaving her former lover a sobbing mess in a complete breakdown, before heading back to the sorority, where she starts new friendships, realising she never loved Leda at all, and that Leda was mentally ill.

It's a good read for the historical view of how things have changed and how much acceptance the LGBT people have today, even if there is much yet to do.

[Pamela · Rating 5 out of 5]

Good lord, what a read.

I can see how this book would have been disturbing on many levels when it was released in 1952, because it still carries quite an impact. College freshman Susan "Mitch" Mitchell falls in love with her sorority roommate, the promiscuous Leda Taylor, who uses sex to distract her from her pain. Mitch is sheltered and naive, but smart enough to know when she's being taken advantage of by a fraternity president, and astute enough to realize she's in love with Leda. For all her worldly ways, Leda can't defog herself long enough to know what she wants from her boyfriend (which is to be rid of him), or from Mitch when Leda realizes she's falling in love with her as well.

There are some passionate and frightening scenes that still carry quite a bit of power, even to a modern reader. Vin Packer did an admirable job addressing conformity and the expectations of an impossibly perfectionist society in her novel. This version has an introduction written by Packer in 2004 where she explains that she resisted re-issuing this book because she was embarrassed about the ending. Indeed, the ending is so abrupt and unexpected, and unlike the previous entirety of the book, that I liken it to the reader being almost able to see the staples and Scotch tape over where the real ending was supposed to go. However, it's important to note that Packer's editor instructed her to make the resolution unhappy or the US postal service would send the books back to the publisher.

This book will push and hurt you, but don't put it down, and don't dismiss it. It's worth your attention. If you're sharp enough, you can learn from the characters and their trials. One of the most disturbing aspects of the book may be realizing how much of Packer's world in 1952 isn't too different from ours.

[Mel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Originaly published in 1951 and captioned as the first lesbian pulp. The introduction of this book by the author comes out as an apology. In it she quotes a conversation she has with her publisher about how she wants to write a story about her experiences at boarding school, he tells her she can write the book as long as it's set in college, not school, and that it's very clear in everyone's minds that Lesbian is a BAD THING, and that there is no happy endings. Despite this the book still sold 1.5 million initially, much better than the estimated 400,000. The book is quite terrifying. I think I much prefer Radclyff Hall. But I think that's because 50s sorority girls might be everything I despise most. The book describes the young (butch) girl joining the sorority, they don't think much of her looks but because her dad's a millionaire they decide to let her in anyway. She quickly falls in love with the house queen, who it turns out is also gay but hides it by sleeping with her boyfriend. There are some really horrible parts to read in here, from the required date rape the pledges go through, to the attitudes towards sex, the veiled references to sexual abuse and the breakdown of the main character. All told though the writing style is not as open or as honest as Ann Brannon. I felt sorry for the characters living in that hell and I found it quite moving. I ended up feeling very sorry for the sorority queen, or anyone stuck in that lifestyle and culture. She should have moved to Greenwich and hung out with the other lesbians and the beats.

[Alannah Cossey · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this book and it ended up becoming the basis of my master's essay. I think we have to keep in mind it is dated and of it's time BUT at that time, there would've been so little queer, female representation that even Packer herself said she wrote this book so queer women could feel seen. Of course, as a queer woman myself I want books with queer joy and positive love and lovers who aren't doomed to tragedy. It does make all the difference to keep in mind that Packer was strong-armed into the tragic ending by the publisher and (I think) it was later revised.

It's not a happy story, parts are deeply uncomfortable and upsetting but I just felt so compelled to read. Maybe because I needed to be reminded how things were and how we still have far to go.

[Wendy Rouse · Rating 4 out of 5]

Spring Fire by Vin Packer (Marijane Meaker) is considered the original lesbian pulp novel. Meaker's work reveals the cultural anxiety and curiosity about lesbianism in 1950s-era United States. The story follows Susan "Mitch" Mitchell as she begins her freshman year at Cranston University and joins a sorority. She quickly becomes infatuated with the sorority queen, Leda, who likewise falls head-over-heels for Mitch. Reader beware though. Consider the historic context of the era in which it was written - this story has no happily-ever-after, fairy tale ending.

[Caitlin · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book gives the reader an interesting glimpse into a life that was strictly forbidden at the time of publication, and the picture painted is very fascinating and controversial. It isn't particularly well-written, and there are clearly problems with the way it ends (see the author's introduction to the book for more on that), but its value as a piece of history is high.

[Jen Shelby · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting due to when it was written. Even the author admits to clumsy writing, but it was groundbreaking at the time. Certainly not an uplifting book but worth the read if you want to understand where lesbian pulp novels got their start. Makes you thankful that society has come as far as it has.

[Jess · Rating 3 out of 5]

The book was interesting I'm glad I read it. It was disturbing to think that the book had to have an unhappy story for it to be published. While your reading you have to keep in mind when it was written. Overall I did enjoy it though.

[Joanna · Rating 3 out of 5]

I paid .35 for it. I have a collection of pulp fiction.

[Mel · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a bit of a difficult read but historically important. Torn between 3 and 4 stars on it.

[nelkku · Rating 4 out of 5]

this is quality entertainment

[Lightwhisper · Rating 4 out of 5]

A classic lesbian book that was a success due to the first time a lesbian was represented in a book. But don't forget, at that time, it couldn't end well. Although it is very well written.

[Malum · Rating 2 out of 5]

A serviceable lesbian pulp novel, greatly overshadowed by Ann Bannon's Odd Girl Out, which had the same plot but was a much better novel overall.

[shadowboxerbaby · Rating 2 out of 5]

happy pride month <3

[Noah · Rating 3 out of 5]

The prose is solid, but it doesn't really go anywhere interesting plot wise. The most interesting thing here is picking out the hoops Vin is trying to jump through to get it published.

[Erin · Rating 3 out of 5]

You might call this the first *intentional* lesbian pulp novel. To the extent that Women's Barracks (in 1950) wasn't written by Tereska Torres to be a lesbian pulp novel. It was just published that way. This, however, means to be what it is. Written by Marijane Meaker (as Vin Packer) subject to restrictions of the publisher and times (precluding a happy ending for any lesbians concerned and requiring one meeting specific effectively heteronormative criteria).

First of all, HUGE content warning for this one: this novel contains multiple depictions of sexual assault of women by men. Which is on some level conceptually excusable, as a portrayal of the reality of many young women's lives in 1950. But it is absolutely brutal reading.

That aside (though it's difficult to put aside), the portrayal of the lesbian romance itself here does have a few tender moments and a few sincere professions of love, before the narrative hammer inevitably falls (and sets things "right" in accordance with the necessities of the day. But there's not much, amidst the awfulness.

Still, even the dismantling of the romance is interesting enough, depressing though it might be. Possibly the most interesting part of the book. Given that the first half of it is pretty miserably bogged down by lack of plot and by sexual assault.

I might not sound like I found much to like about this one, but I still give it three stars, as I did see some romance shine through, amidst the shattered romance here. And somehow, I think I was happier to see it shattered than simply handwaved away as a fleeting childish fancy.