Odd Girl Out

The characters made me feel personally, the writing was superb, and the story itself is amazing, Highly recommend <3

There aren't enough stars to rate Ann Bannon's work. First published in 1957, Odd Girl Out is a true classic from the golden age of lesbian pulp fiction and affords an insider's look into what it was like back then - but this isn't just some old-timey nostalgia piece. There is a reason why this book is still being read and enjoyed 50 years later, and it's quite simple: because it's a damned good book from a damned good writer. The first in what would become Bannon's Beebo Brinker Chronicles (recently done as a play off Broadway, to much acclaim) this is a book to be savored and read again and again, just to see how a real master does it. Victor J. Banis

I was wonderfully surprised how much I enjoyed this novel published originally in the 1950's and set on a college campus of the time. I should not have been, Odd Girl Out was the number two best seller the year it was published. It lead to four sequels and possibly more if the author had continued publishing. The book was published again in 1975 by a division of the New York Times. In 1983 and 1986 the entire series, which had become known as the Beebo Brinker Chronicles for it's most iconic character, was published by the legendary Naiad Press. Most recently Cleis Press has re-issued the authors five titles in deluxe editions with bonus introductions from the author. I especially enjoyed finding the author has a website that is delightfully rich in information on the series and related information. As for the story, I ate it up! I did not want to put it sown. Of special interest to me was the excellent writing. Almost a raw quality to it that made the story real for me even though the setting was a decade before I born. Of equal interest was the two captivating main character. Beth and Laura were on a journey to themselves. Beth is a senior in college when the book opens in the Fall of the first semester. Beth is the female equivalent of 'the big man on campus', most folks know her, like her or admire her'. She appears to everyone to be self-sufficient and self-confident. Freshman Laura has a big-time case of hero worship for her roommate and sorority sister Beth. I had never read a 'pulp' novel before but by reputation I was expecting a torrid bodice ripper where one person was preyed on by the other. Instead we have both women discovering a deep and over whelming attraction for each other. Neither fight it nor are repulsed by it - it is what it is. The physical attraction shared by Beth & Laura is passionately & beautifully depicted, and surprisingly erotic considering the constraints on publishers and writers at the time. I don't want to give the plot away except to say that the ending is engaging, dramatic, well written and points toward a positive future for both. With each woman pursuing what she believes is right for her. As a side note, the glance back at a time of oppression toward women that has thankfully receded was revolting and most fascinating was that it wasn't always men who were the oppressors. This is a Keeper! I am looking forward to reading the complete series - Beebo Brinker I Am a Woman Women in the Shadows Journey to a Woman

Thank heaven for Cleis Press and its resolve to re-publish this lesbian classic. Bannon's novel, a lesbian college romance set (circumspectly) at the University of Illinois in the '50's, was one of the first novels in which the central lesbian character was not utterly destroyed (by suicide, homicide, or insanity) as a consequence of her sexuality. While its prose may not strike you as lilting or even vigorous, the novel's charm lies in its unflinching depiction homoerotic attraction and burgeoning lesbian identity in the heavily surveilled atmosphere of a 1950's college social scene. Laura and Beth, the central characters, resurface in Bannon's later (sequel-ish) novels. *Beebo Brinker*, one of these later books, is also republished by Cleis. We should applaud Cleis press for its willingness to publish this important lesbian artefact. (Cleis, after all, was the daughter of Sappho; and Cleis Press seems to take its responsibility for publishing our mothers' work quite seriously.) At the same time, we should remind ourselves that dozens (perhaps hundreds) of lesbian pulp novels are languishing and, in fact, decaying. Pulp fiction was printed on the worst, acid-filled paper. It is only by reprinting them that we can guarantee continued access to these sometimes bizarre, frequently haunting representations of mid-twentieth century lesbians.