The premise of two old queens reminiscing about gay life under the communists sounded promising. Yet despite moments of humour, I found the lack of a clear voice rather confusing and the repetitive anecdotes of beatings, grunts and public toilets a bit grim. In saying that – the book has been well-reviewed and has some great characters with fabulous names. Read it for a window on a vanishing sub-culture.
I rubbed my eyes and thought, Lucreeetia! Help! Hmmmm, I could see those turncoats out of the corner of my eye, having it off in the dunes, totally oblivious to the fate they'd abandoned me to. So I continued lending my ear to that beefed up, body-waxed, plastic boy toy until I lost all interest in doing him - with all that friendship and intimacy erupting between us it stared to feel like I was talking with my therapist. Too intimate, too emotional - like talking with family, except with my family I wouldn't talk about it anyway …. It's not as if I even want friendship and intimacy. Makes me think of my mum. What I want is a completely anonymous hookup, someone who'll thrash me like a bitch getting what she deserves, who'll rough me up ….