BUtterfield 8

 BUtterfield 8, by John O'Hara. What a great novel. I wish I could remember which great book blog I heard about it from, but I simply cannot. So whoever you are out there, thank you. And yes, the first two letters should be capitalized; it has to do with the days when telephone numbers began with letters.

Spoilers follow: 

Is it still an ingenue story if she kills herself? or appears to? Gloria Gloria Gloria. Finally ready (possibly) to settle. A simple trip over the bar, or purposeful. O'Hara goes a great job letting the reader decide.

And for those out there who think the current generation or two invented sex: hahaha. Having sex in front of two other couples? In the '30s? Yes, it happened. O'Hara could write: the incident with the Major and 11-year old Gloria. In any other novel written in the last 10 years (20?) that would have been way more explicit, and would have ruined it for me (I'm looking at you, Ms. Shafak, and your 10 Minutes 38 Seconds in this Strange World). Liggett, of course, is a shit. Cheating bastard. And oh goodness, the fur coat, and Gloria's tease about revealing what she was not wearing underneath. Naughty girl.

Spoilers complete.

Now, my next assignment is to find and stream the movie. I understand it has Elizabeth Taylor in it. She has to play Gloria Wandrous (isn't that a wonderful last name? Glorious, even. Almost like a merging of wonderful and glorious...with that first name. Genius, Mr. O'Hara.). I wonder who is playing Weston Liggett? We'll see, if I can find the movie. (I don't ever look up movies of books before I read the book for fear the movie's description will give anything away.)