8:50am Thursday 29th July 2010
By Gill Harris
SIXTEEN SHADES OF CRAZY
Rachel Trezise (Bluedoor, £12.99)
Sixteen Shades of Crazy is a surprising book. The front cover reads “Went out, got pissed, same shit, different day . . .” which, while not exactly uplifting, doesn’t suggest something so very tragic. Trezise uses bright, easy, almost chick-lit language and incisive wit to lull us into a false sense of security as she exposes us to a cautionary tale of obsession, amorality and the claustrophobia of living in a small community — in this case Aberalaw, a tiny South Wales village, a world that Trezise evokes from her own experience of growing up in the Rhondda valley.
The story is told through the eyes of three female friends, the wives and girlfriends of local punk band “The Boobs”.
There’s ambitious factory girl Ellie, who dreams of New York; Sian the beautiful, obsessive compulsive mother of three; and Rhiannon the larger-than-life hairdresser over-compensating for her insecurity and damaging past.
Within a few short months, they are all seduced by a rare newcomer — an English drug dealer who supplies them with the narcotics and the thrills they have been craving.
This is a story about sex, not love. Trezise manages to give each woman a distinct voice and convincing back story, showing us three separate perspectives on how each of their dreams and expectations are confounded.
There is no romance here, just an agonising end made all the more affecting because the reader has been in a position of superior knowledge.
We can foresee a bad end (and scream “don’t do it”) as the women lie, scheme and manoeuvre with no regard for their friends, partners or their own self-esteem.
In places this book is neither subtle nor fun, but it’s well worth reading.
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