Buy directly from ENC $17.00 A coven of time-traveling lesbian activists find themselves in the Alta California Republic in 2064 and realize that the future ain’t what it used to be.
Valerie Benziger — lesbian feminist activist and Priestess of the Goddess — was born too late to be somebody during the glory days of the “womyn’s community.” So, when she concocts a ritual that appears to take her San Francisco women’s circle traveling forward in time, she’s convinced they’ll return with a cure for AIDS and she’ll be a heroine at last. But while the Alta California Republic of 2064 is a great place for a woman to love other women, it got that way in spite of her generation’s politics. And her circle can’t agree whether this future is a dream or a nightmare.
Helping them make their way is small businesswoman Claudia Marshall, madly in love with her wife, “private defective” Charlotte O’Hara — but also with her charming husband, Sean. This “sapphic” triad befriends Valerie, the priestess in way over her head; Connie, the dour revolutionary; M’Chunga, the Afrocentrist; Marty and Kayla, the young “queer” butch-femme couple; Luz, the Hispanic Haight-Ashbury veteran; Leslie, the athlete turned reluctant new member of the differently-abled community; and Peggy, the lipstick lesbian who just might be the one with the magic they’ll need to get through this adventure.
Sweet Brigid! (as Sean would say) The future sure ain’t what it used to be . . .
Beth Elliott’s Don’t Call it “Virtual” is a hilarious take on society’s views of equality through the trials and tribulations of a group of strong-willed women.
When Valerie Benziger’s actions accidently transport her group of friends to 2064, she thinks she’ll discover a cure for AIDS that will help mankind and put her in the spotlight. However, she soon discovers that the Alta California Republic may not be the ideal place she initially thought it would be.
Not only does Elliott provide an echelon of laughs, but she also dives in to the discovery of finding ones true self. Each woman in the group goes through their own self-discovery throughout the process, from understanding their ethnic background to trying to understand a cure for cancer.
Each character is perfectly rounded out and plays well off of one another, which helps to make this novel such an easy read. Not only that, but is also plays a respectful role in the LGBT community in an effort to shed light on equality and justice.
So for anyone looking for a novel that is not only an easy read, but for something that will challenge them to think critically about their behaviors in society, they should look no further – this is the book for them.
When Valerie – the priestess of a San Francisco based circle of new age, ultra-liberal, activist, feminist lesbians – conducts a ritual that transports her motley group from the 1990s into the future to bring back a cure for AIDS, she and her coven find a future that's everything they had hoped it would be, but not because of their radical vision! In 2064, Alta California (once the state of California) is an independent nation where there is neither poverty nor prejudice, but Valerie and her comrades are divided on whether this utopia is flawed because of its libertarian foundations.
Author Beth Elliot is not afraid to probe ideologies that today's visionaries may be failing to examine. The readers, much like the diverse, well-developed characters in her side-splitting and illuminating book (which is especially pertinent to feminist and LGBT readers), are forced to question the true meaning of equality and ask whether the ends justify the means when it comes to social justice. The journey through these unique pages is fun as well as eye-opening, and I highly recommend it.
It is an unfortunate fact that many contemporary feminist groups tend to urge society towards collectivism and Nanny Statism. The weakness and vulnerability of the individual (particularly the individual woman) is assumed as fact, and the consequent need for a strong (but "compassionate") authority is rarely questioned. No woman is an island, feminism has decreed, and so all women must band together and surrender their sovereignty to the tribe, the state, the collective.
But feminism is not so monolithic as Phyllis Schlafly-style conservatives would have us believe.
In the words of one feminist whose writing and ideas deserve much more attention than they have garnered: "[I'd] rather fail as an individual than win a rigged game as part of a group." No other statement could better illustrate the ideals of individualism: allowing every man and woman to pursue their own paths, and letting the chips fall where they may. No woman is an island, but neither is she pathetic and impotent in the face of the larger universe.
This unorthodox thinker is named Beth Elliott, and her novel, Don't Call It "Virtual", contains an impassioned defense of classical liberal philosophy and politics in a feminist context. What's even better: Elliott has fun doing it. Satire is the name of the game, and Elliott executes her chosen medium expertly, defying the stereotype of the "humorless feminist." "Virtual" is a smirking, iconoclastic "dramedy" with roots in the American Revolution and 1960s feminism. Anyone in search of a different perspective on the state of the modern world, an unashamed feminism willing to laugh at its own past errors, or a simple satire, will not be disappointed.
"Virtual" follows the adventures of a Californian-lesbian-leftist-feminist-Wiccan-activist group from the mid-1990s, trapped (by magic) in the year 2064, in search of a cure for AIDS. Sounds contrived? Of course it does - but no more than much of contemporary feminism does, and the excessively multicultural group illustrates this fact eloquently and hilariously in their reactions to the future. Because California is not as it should be in the 21st century: Progressive politics have not won out, but seem to have failed miserably in the face of a free society of unfettered, equal individuals. Every goal the time-travelers and their 20th century feminist sisters had set (an end to poverty, sexism, homophobia, racism, pollution, etc.) has been achieved - but with no recognition of radical, militant feminist groups. Instead, "groups" have done little, and individuals working for themselves - business owners, soldiers, artists - are the key to unlocking humanity's potential for peace and prosperity. The Nanny State, California discovered, is only capable of oppression.
Thus, the travelers' mission is thwarted again and again: they are shown evidence that reality does not necessarily conform to humans' wishes or "good intentions." The lesson is a hard one, and most of the characters seem dead-set on refusing to learn it. The novel could easily have taken a turn into stereotyping (e.g. the militant feminists vs. the enlightened feminists of the future), but Elliott masterfully injects each character with their own soul. No one is treated harshly: feminism has had a spotted history, Elliott appears to be telling us, but it is a mistake to demonize leftists as "the other." Rather, it is better to point out ironies, to invite "enemies" to laugh over past grievances, and try to use the juxtaposition of opposing ideologies to show, without cruelty, that perhaps the merits of one or both need to be reevaluated by mainstream culture. In every way, Don't Call It "Virtual" is a respectful, gleeful, individualist critique of both feminism and the opponents of feminism. Any reader looking for both a fun read and a controversial political-philosophical manifesto should look to Beth Elliott; this is one author with an eye for both style and truth.
This is the story of group of 1990's Californian Goddess-worshiping lesbians that try (and succeed) in using a sacred circle to travel into the future. Their goal: to find a cure for AIDS and bring the information back to the 1990s. Wow! What a story-line.
It scared me a bit.
I really expected this to be a painful endeavor or a beautiful mess. It was neither. It was a decent read. The author has provided an interesting mix of radical feminism, radical lesbianism, goddess-worship, future-building, and oddly enough, libertarianism into one book.
I really do not want to throw any spoilers out there, so I will not comment on events taking place in the book beyond the success of the time-traveling attempt. Beth Elliot not only treated the subject matter with great respect, she provided many discussions between the characters that provoke much thought. The invigorating discussions I had in my own head each time I set this book down was enough to make reading it worth my time.
The characters seem to me to start out as extremes of different types of people. It felt a lot like reading an Ayn Rand book, in that area. I hope that was the intent, because it forgives many little things that would have bothered me, otherwise. In fact, until I came to this conclusion I was having a very difficult time connecting to the characters.
There still are some other things that bothered me with the book, which is why I did not give it a 4 or a 5. I would say my issues are likely personal preference and not quality of writing.
I got half-way through this before I realized it had taken me more than a month to get that far.... I may finish it someday but it does not hold much interest for me.
It wasn't a bad book, instead it was what literature used to be in the time of Henry James etc. I twas a book that was written for the purpose of dissecting and commenting on the current culture and mores of the time and the society which it was written about (in this case the Mid 90s, which took a little getting used to, and the women empowerment/lesbian empowerment culture I think).
Unfortunately I"m not a great fan of the word, descriptively overblown, rambling dialogue books. I tried Henry James "Portrait of a Lady" and it nearly killed me.
The basic story is about a bunch of women who decide to use some sort of magic to travel to the future and bring back a cure for AIDS. Once they get to the future each character is looked at under a sort of literature microscope and who they really are is dissected through the kind of adventure that they have in the future.
I did like who the individual characters and their stories fit very well together even though they were quite disparate people. Unfortunately there were a couple of the characters that I kept getting mixed up with the other because they sounded and sometimes acted in the same way and they hadn't been differentiated enough at the beginning of the book. Something else that distracted me from the flow of the book were the constantly changing nicknames between Claudia and Charlotte (the two future 'guides' for our intrepid band of time travelers). Nicknames are fun to use in fiction, and fun to read, but usually there's one nickname that each character uses for the other, and here there were so many different ones that it was hard to keep track of who was who when they were only using the nicks.
All in all, if you like seriously and utterly character driven novels, this is for you. But a solid and always moving forward plot is more your style, I'd give this one a pass.
As a final aside though, I got this book through the 'First Reads' program here, and I have to say, the PR materials for the book are outstanding, because it was the small summary that got me to try to win it, and it was a good blurb.
I think I read a preview of this once or something? I came away feeling like I didn't want to read the whole thing, but there's a line I like that has stuck with me - "I like it that women, even straight women, smile at each other."