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Walk on Glass
MUSIC WORLD ROMANCE
345 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1982
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
December 31, 2016
By the late 1980s, after having had my filled of...
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September 11, 2018
So I found this book while I was cleaning out my mom's attic recently. I remember loving the hell out of it when I was a teen. I was obsessed with the world of rock and roll then (as many teens are) and thought that this novel (written by a REAL ROCK CRITIC!) was an enthralling love story.
Rereading it as an adult, I wanted to time-travel back to my teen self, thwap her over the head and yell, "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?" This isn't a love story. It's a HORROR story.
Our Heroine is Lindel James, a Stevie Nicks-type '70s soft rocker. (We know Stevie is at least a partial basis for the character - this IS a guess-who roman-a-clef, after all - because Lindel's signature song is called "White Bird," and one of Stevie's signature songs, "Edge of Seventeen," begins, "Just like the white-winged dove . . .") We first meet her when she's playing in dive bars and her sleazebag manager, Jeff Stein, is trying to peddle her to record companies. He manages to cut a deal, and Lindel climbs the ladder of success much faster than any new artist probably would or should in real life - until she falls head over heels in love with Brian Davis, vocalist of British proto-punk band The Vipers (he's pretty much Iggy Pop stuffed into Billy Idol's body.) And thus, her downward spiral begins.
They have a one-night stand when she performs in Britain. He arrives in New York; they reconnect in Coney Island over their shared love of Tina Turner and cheesy carnival games. She insists The Vipers open for her on her first headlining tour, during which she shares a hotel room and tequila sunrise-fueled tourist trap crawls with her punky prince . . . and she progresses from infatuated to bunny-boiling obsessed.
Seriously, folks, this is horrifying to watch. When we first meet Lindel, she's a self-possessed artist - "I am my music and my music is me." By the time the tour ends, she's refusing to go out to dinner with her backup band ("I have to be in the hotel in case Brian comes back!"), wearing a ratty piece of string around her wrist constantly because Brian put it there, dropping weight like a stone and smoking like a chimney . . . and meanwhile, the man she's built her entire life around has proven to be flighty and unpredictable, disappearing for days on end.
And I thought this was romantic when I was a kid? I'm almost willing to cut the teenage Twihards some slack for being so into a dysfunctional romance - because this makes Edward and Bella look almost healthy.
Two stars because the book is at least well-written and engaging, it does deal with the heroine's mental state in a believable and hopeful manner toward the end, and there is at least one truly relatable character - Jeff's secretary and Lindel's best friend, Marcia. It loses half a star for LGBT unfriendliness - a lesbian woman is portrayed as a predator and an asexual man as a cold bastard. (Yes, I know the book was written in the '80s, but it still seems distasteful).
If anyone knows of any novels featuring a healthy and respectful romance between male and female rock musicians, by the way, please toss them in my direction. I need an antidote to this thing.
Rereading it as an adult, I wanted to time-travel back to my teen self, thwap her over the head and yell, "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?" This isn't a love story. It's a HORROR story.
Our Heroine is Lindel James, a Stevie Nicks-type '70s soft rocker. (We know Stevie is at least a partial basis for the character - this IS a guess-who roman-a-clef, after all - because Lindel's signature song is called "White Bird," and one of Stevie's signature songs, "Edge of Seventeen," begins, "Just like the white-winged dove . . .") We first meet her when she's playing in dive bars and her sleazebag manager, Jeff Stein, is trying to peddle her to record companies. He manages to cut a deal, and Lindel climbs the ladder of success much faster than any new artist probably would or should in real life - until she falls head over heels in love with Brian Davis, vocalist of British proto-punk band The Vipers (he's pretty much Iggy Pop stuffed into Billy Idol's body.) And thus, her downward spiral begins.
They have a one-night stand when she performs in Britain. He arrives in New York; they reconnect in Coney Island over their shared love of Tina Turner and cheesy carnival games. She insists The Vipers open for her on her first headlining tour, during which she shares a hotel room and tequila sunrise-fueled tourist trap crawls with her punky prince . . . and she progresses from infatuated to bunny-boiling obsessed.
Seriously, folks, this is horrifying to watch. When we first meet Lindel, she's a self-possessed artist - "I am my music and my music is me." By the time the tour ends, she's refusing to go out to dinner with her backup band ("I have to be in the hotel in case Brian comes back!"), wearing a ratty piece of string around her wrist constantly because Brian put it there, dropping weight like a stone and smoking like a chimney . . . and meanwhile, the man she's built her entire life around has proven to be flighty and unpredictable, disappearing for days on end.
And I thought this was romantic when I was a kid? I'm almost willing to cut the teenage Twihards some slack for being so into a dysfunctional romance - because this makes Edward and Bella look almost healthy.
Two stars because the book is at least well-written and engaging, it does deal with the heroine's mental state in a believable and hopeful manner toward the end, and there is at least one truly relatable character - Jeff's secretary and Lindel's best friend, Marcia. It loses half a star for LGBT unfriendliness - a lesbian woman is portrayed as a predator and an asexual man as a cold bastard. (Yes, I know the book was written in the '80s, but it still seems distasteful).
If anyone knows of any novels featuring a healthy and respectful romance between male and female rock musicians, by the way, please toss them in my direction. I need an antidote to this thing.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 23, 2015
Hardback, Copyright 1982. Difficult to watch her make bad decisions at times. She nails an explanation of life and love: It's like we are at times walking on glass. The path can seem smooth and gleaming at first, but liable at any moment to shatter into painful, jagged bits.
July 6, 2013
If you like rock and roll, you will love this novel.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews