A Wistful WarningnEve Babitz: Sex and Rage; Alfred A.nKnopf; New York.nby Becki KlutenxV glance at the title might make onenexpect another women’s-lib tract—notnso. To look just a little further, the dustjacketndescription, for instance, couldngive the impression that it is a paean tonthe Beautiful People’s counterculture.nThere will, of course, be a multitude ofnlibcult folks who ignore anything othernthan that which they can interpret asnpraise of their glittering peculiarities,nand who will laud Ms. Babitz for whatnthey think she has written. But most ofnthose libcult folks have a sort of myopianwhich no ophthamologist could everncure; they interpret anything which doesnnot clearly condemn as praise—subtletiesnescape minds submerged in drugsnand Warholesque philosophy.nMs. Babitz has taken a long, hard looknat the Beautiful People—and she doesn’tnlike what she sees. She admits the superficialnattractiveness of the BP lifestylen(this is what the libcultists will callnpraise), but as she probes beneath its surfacenshe finds some rather ugly things.nLike most girls out of high schoolnduring the 60’s her heroine, Jacaranda,nis looking for adventure. She is pretty,nshe is young, she is an avid Californiansurfer. She is definitely a “young ladyneager for a good time.” What could benmore natural than for such a girl to becomeninvolved with an older, marriednman, an actor.? A doorway opens, andnJacaranda strolls heedlessly through itnto a world of actors, rock stars and drugndealers, all of whom are unveiled in allntheir shallow selfishness.nBut Ms. Babitz reserves her mostnbiting irony for the jet-set BeautifulnPeople. The BP float through life innamorphous circles held together bynMrs. Klute is on the editorial staff ofnthe Chronicles.neuphoric camaraderie. Jacaranda privatelynchristens the clique of her newnfriends “the barge.” The allusion to thennotorious Egyptian queen is obvious, butnremember too that a barge is also a large,nunwieldy boat with no power of its ownn— it must always be pulled along bynsomething else. Despite whatever surfacenbeauty it may possess, it is essentiallynhelpless, useless without assistance.nThe power that propels thisnparticular barge is Etienne, the ultimatenpersonification of libcult cynicism. ThenBP lifestyle, of course, requires money.n. pretentious schmaltz. Sex and Rage, is a cheat all the wayninis iif il whiili soiiicoilr Piiisl iinnidcn____, ,. ^— .nEtienne, the provider, is an astute businessmannwhose main ambition is “tontake over the world.” Clearly then,nEtienne cannot go through life befuddlednwith drugs and booze. He simplynpeoples his barge with whoever amusesnhim, and what amuses him most isnwatching people destroy themselves.nThe ego of the power behind the BP isnthus massaged by the pathetic sight ofnburned-out hangers-on:n”It was as though the more pastyfacednand impossible she became withneach passing month, the more itnpleased him watching her drunkenlyndelude herself that she was sailingnalong . . . There was something innEtienne that made him sympathetic tonself-destruction of all kinds, for henwould have gladly blown himself tonsmithereens for fun …”nfinally perceiving this cynicism, Jacarandan”jumps off the barge,” and gropesnher way toward reality. Somewherenalong the way, she begins to write—andnit sells. Her writing becomes a sort of lifenline, barely strong enough to keep hernafloat in the treacherous tides of alcoholism.nJumping off the barge proved easiernnnthan shedding the habits she had acquirednduring her stay on it. Oddly, Ms.nBabitz seems to see alcohol as a greaternthreat than drugs. Although both arendestructive, she sees booze as actuallynthe more dangerous, perhaps because ofnits apparent innocuousness. She makes itnclear that they both provide the samenthing—escape: alcohol is simply sldwernand only a little less dangerous. Throughnher alcoholic haze, Jacaranda understandsnthat for her writing to progressnshe must visit her agent in New York,nand the thought terrifies her. But shen-Villaffe Vnice.n^iijn^iijb; thaismis .illies in thaiilinA’fion.nIt takes a simple girl, sometimes considerednsimple-minded, to thrust Jacarandanback into reality. Through their ownnfears and confusion about life, each girlnsets the feet of the other on the road backnto normalcy.nOnce in New York, terrified but notndrinking, Jacaranda begins to look andnfeel better and better, despite the occasionalnmartini that tiptoes across hernbrain. The world of publishing looksnmostly sane, appealing, far removednfrom the barge. She calls an old friendnwho has “made it”—his picture is on thencover of People—and runs smack intonEtienne and the barge. As she resistsntheir peculiar magnetism, one wants tonapplaud; but a till-now normal friend ofnJacaranda’s can be seen being pulled irresistiblyninto their “magic” circle, andnone wants to weep. The vicious cycle isnbeginning afresh; only the victim is new.nOex and Rage could be contrasted tonJacqueline Susann’s Valley of the Dolls,nwhich had a similar premise of innocentsndrawn into a seemingly fabulous world,nonly to find it artificial and ultimatelyndegrading. But where Susann wrote tontitillate, Babitz writes to warn. Susann’sn”isn’t-this-exciting” attitude is almostn;i9nMay/June 1980n