A Collection of Beauties at the Height of Their Popularity: A Novel

Whitney Otto, one of my all-time favorite writers, has misstepped badly in "A Collection of Beauties." In trying to recreate a modern version of a Japanese pillow book, she took as her model the diaries of Dawn Powell, a rich white woman who leeched off artists without having a shred of art in her own soul. True to form, the characters in this book look and act artistic, but only one--Micha the painter--has any genuine talent. The others are basically rich, spoiled wastrels of the early '80s, lost in their world of parties, dope and ennui while they kind of flutz around the art community without ever really being part of it. Perhaps the most typical character is Micha's lover, a woman so vapid that she hasn't even bothered to unpack most of her things or buy furniture for her apartment because she is simply too lazy to do it. What a waste of talent!! Whitney, go back and re-read "The Passion Dream Book," that is your masterpiece. Give us more like that and less of a Dawn Powell-lookalike,

I found this an odd book. Not just the format- vignettes loosely bound together, styled after a Japanese courtesan’s ‘pillow book’ from the Edo period , each vignette featuring a different member of a group of friends. Set in 1980s San Francisco, these friends are late 20 somethings, all well educated but none working in the field that they are educated for. They float through life; drinking, smoking pot and sometimes doing coke, attending art openings and going to restaurants but mainly meeting at the Youki Singe Tea Room, a North Beach dive where pot smoking is allowed- but only in a small room.Elodie is the woman who sets the tales down. She writes only when in the Tea Room, leaving her notebooks there. The characters- the collection of beauties- seem to have no ambition, content to simply live like butterflies, pushed by the winds of life. Connections between them turn to love, break up, and realign. There is no real plot; it’s just events happening in the vignettes.While reading the book, I didn’t much care for most of the characters. Which makes it odd that I later found myself thinking about them, and going back and rereading sections of the book. The prose is beautiful.The vignettes are like little jewels. The book is physically beautiful, too, illustrated mostly with old Japanese woodblock prints but with a couple of 20th century works. To read this book is enjoyable, even if I didn’t connect with most of the characters.

Don't let the genuinely ugly cover chase you away.(Though I see Otto's intention in the woodblock art of the Japanese "floating world," a sample of which appears before every chapter, it didn't quite do it for me. Maybe it's because every woodblocked woman features squinty eyes which look like gnats, squinty mouths, inexpressive eyebrows, prominent noses, and huge, lethargic, drooping hair. It seems a bit of a stretch to connect a pillow book in long-ago Japan with one in 1980s San Francisco, and quite frankly the character in Otto's novel who writes her own pillow book is, no offense, a fairly pure oddball. Good idea, just weighted down with undesirable visuals.)I picked up this book largely because I read a negative review about it in Book Magazine. The reviewer charged that the book was insubstantial, built entirely on atmosphere, relying "heavily on characterization rather than on dramatic development of plot."Hooray! I said. Here was a book based on character, my favorite trait in a story. Though I do not like short stories, I went out and snatched up the book, and I was not sorry.Yes, the book has the tone of the author's own summary of the second chapter, or story: "They spend a Saturday visiting a number of parties, skimming the social surface like skates on water." It IS largely atmosphere, my second favorite characteristic in a book. The "skating on the surface" aspect of the book is one of its more charming aspects.This book is no catalog of 80s brands or merchandise; any mention of brands or paraphenalia makes the book more authentic, not less.In contrast with Book Magazine, I fail to see where there is no plot. People coming together for love affairs, being driven out of the house by an off-tilt roommate... this is not plot? Non-plot is two divorced women sitting silently at a kitchen table while water drips forlornly through coffee grounds and the coffee machines makes feeble perculating sounds, something I saw far too much of while earning my English degree.Rather, this novel is an enjoyable read with characters whose stories are strung together through the odd scene which may appear (from two different points of view) in two stories, through the connection of one character to another, and more.Despite the large cast, each character is completely his or her own. Favorites: Theo, Jelly, Sal, Lenny, Ginny, Selena. Unfavorites: Elodie, Roy, Nash...Micha's lover Suzanne IS a bit vapid. She reminds me somewhat of the corpse-like, truly odd (not in a good way) Hana in The English Patient (the book, not the movie, which I haven't seen).I looked forward to reading this book each night, which, since I am a picky reader, I can say for few books.

I've read two other Whitney Otto books, both insightful and rich in their story and content. THIS treasure, however, moves to the top of my list. She has woven a delightful novel full of promise, texture, and curiousities. As I read it, I could see where she was taking me, how the tale would unwind, and I went willingly. When I finished the book, I felt a sense of loss. I've been enjoying the book for several nights now as it was my short read before sleep. Now that it is finished, I am mesmerized and want it to continue.Otto is a very creative writer. She draws you in with the whimsical lightness and before you realize it, you are sitting in the tea house watching each story unfold.I'm going to find and read, "The Passion Dream Book," as it is the only one of her books I've not read. Good writing survives. This one did and will.

Glorious!