A by Curt Eaton
AuthorHouse, 460 pages. $32.99. Released 2008.
I don't usually put subtitles on reviews but I am making an exception for this one. It is this: I wish I edited books for a living. The first book I would dismantle and make anew would be "A" by Curt Eaton.
Rarely has reading been such a frustrating experience. Within these pages, there is a book. A unique, compelling memoir that raises a ton of questions. But it awash in pages describing raw sex.
The memoir is about Eaton's affair with the spirit of Audrey Hepburn. Told in diary form, he "meets" Hepburn via a poster on his wall. She doesn't manifest physically. Rather, he imagines her in his mind.
And then they seduce each other and fall in love. In his mind, Hepburn is no longer an unattainable celebrity. In death, she functions outside of her stardom. She is also as free and open sexually as he is. Coincidence?
A book about sexual fantasies with celebrities sounds like a creep fest. Eaton manages to avoid fangurl sentiments, opting instead for a respectful tone. He gives the impression that he truly believes Hepburn is not just a figment of his imagination.
Because it seems that Eaton believes his experiences are real, readers are left to consider their own belief systems. Rarely does society go beyond the question of life after death. But if there is an afterlife, would it include having sex with someone who has a body? And if so, what would that accomplish?
He calls his book a memoir, but if it only happens in his head, does that qualify it as a memoir? He can't prove he had an after-life affair with Hepburn. But if he did, doesn't it count as life experience?
Eaton subtly introduces his unhappy marriage, hinting around it for a hundred pages. The obvious conclusion is that he has imagined this affair because of his miserable circumstances and sexual frustration. Perhaps that's true. After all, he downloads graphic sexual images constantly and isolates himself in his media room. Enjoying classical music, films and art shows, he engages in all sorts of solitary sexual pleasure.
This journal lasts from 1996 to 2000, throughout the Clinton years. Toward the middle of it, as sex with Hepburn seems to dry up a bit, he tackles other subjects. Clinton's affair with Lewinsky serves as a colorful counterpoint. He also begins journaling about his efforts in compiling his entries into a book. Excising passages he calls "obscene," he hires a stream of typists who quit on him after tackling the job. The content was still too tough to take.
Toward the end, Eaton mentions that his son is a book editor. I can't imagine that he would've let his son tackle this editing job. After all, would you want to read about your father having sex? Eaton is also concerned that people will discover his identity. One can assume that the name Curt Eaton is a pen name.
The juxtaposition of Eaton's anonymity and Hepburn's celebrity is never fully developed. Instead, Eaton desensitizes readers with graphic descriptions of sex. At first it will shock but gradually, it becomes passe.
Because this is an unconventional book, I will write an unconventional review. Eaton's intentions for this work are clear. If I had a magic editing wand to grant authors their intentions, it would go something like this: I would cut over a hundred pages. Focus on the parts that go beyond descriptions of sex, such as thoughts about Clinton. I would arc the Hepburn relationship so that it's not so diffuse. Eaton says that this book was 900 pages long. He's done a lot of editing work on it. There's still more to do.
Clearly this book is not for everyone. This is an adult book, and should not be read by children under 18. As well, if you are close-minded to the possibilities of the after-life, this will not be your cup of tea.
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