I heard about Harry Crews from a friend a long time ago who described his book as “sleazy, dark fiction set in Florida” (sold). I’ve been meaning to read something of his and decided to give “Body” a try. I was especially psyched to read it because the central plot point is a bodybuilding competition and I love lifting weights and will take any motivational workout porn I can get (seriously, even that scene in “The Mirror Has Two Faces” where Streisand goes to the gym is enough to get me psyched up. But I digress). My friend’s description was pretty spot-on, but I was left with the feeling of having consumed an economy-sized bag of party mix (not that I’ve ever done that). I had definitely consumed and enjoyed something but felt vaguely dirty, unsatisfied and a little sad.
“Body” tells the story of Dorothy Turnipseed, a young woman from the deep south who takes a secretarial job at a gym and is scouted by the gym owner, Russell. She starts competing under the name Shereel Dupont, and the novel opens with the pair arriving in Miami so Shereel can compete for the big title against the other frontrunner, a bodybuilder named Marvella from Detroit. Their big moment is threatened when Shereel’s plump southern family and murderous ex-military fiance show up to cheer her on, threatening her carefully concocted image as a champion.
This book has a big ensemble of characters that are entertaining as hell but also push the limits of believability and get into stereotype territory. Shereel’s whiskey swilling, loudly dressed, racist family from Georgia are an embarrassment and get whisked away to another hotel. An overdressed hotel manager with an obvious toupee gets secretarial blowjobs under his desk instead of seeking a relationship because he’s afraid of his toupee falling off during sex. Marvella the rival bodybuilder has three identical sisters who continue each other’s sentences and carry around a boom box. It’s the book equivalent of a zany 80s ensemble comedy. Maybe like a Blues Brothers movie?
This all made for a good quick read. It’s skillfully paced and written but I also felt like the seams showed in the writing. Crews is a skilled writer for sure, but the novel feels like him having fun with some stimulating characters rather than trying to tell a story. Every character is written with a mocking, satirical edge. Central themes (men trying to exert control, race, objectification) are hinted at with disapproval but never really develop. Even the one sweet, redeeming subplot in which a bulimic bodybuilder falls for an obese southern woman has cynical undertones. He fetishizes her fat because it represents indulgence in the food he can’t have, and she just wants a man because fat chicks.
After a fun book’s worth of dancing with the fun cast of characters, the ending is surprisingly serious and didn’t gel with the character’s behavior for me. This review probably sounds like I hated the book but I really didn’t. I also polished it off in a day and a half of commutes and that says something. I’m still curious to read more Crews because I do love the sleazy Florida-ness of his writing.