The Only Girl in the Car - A Memoir

Dobie's book can be split into two distinct parts, the first about her early girlhood in a crowded Catholic family of six, trying to form an identity for herself within her family. As an adolescent, Dobie relates more to boys than girls, and she makes some decisions that push her away from the girl cliques, yet she is never fully accepted by the boys. Dobie learns the hard way, the very hard way, that there are different standards for boys and girls, and this culminates in the life lesson of being "the only girl in the car" for a sexual assault. The recovery portion of this memoir leaves the reader wondering about Dobie. She became chaste and stuck it out in high school until she could escape to the world of New York city and leave her past behind. I finished the book still wondering about her, as I think Dobie wondered about herself in the years to follow.

I have read so many memoirs in the past year. Never have I been so moved with Kathy Dobie's "The Only Girl in The Car." It is beautifully written, exquisite prose, and a deep look into a woman's psyche. It is also a book that contained humor, often bold, and at times, heart-wrenching. It spoke the truth of a tortured soul. I hope that through her story, Ms. Dobie at last found peace. Strongly recommended.

As a sexual assault therapist, one of my teen clients once told me: "What gets you a slutty reputation is not what you do or how many times you do it," she replied, "but who you do it *with.*"This, it seems to me, is a central message of Dobie's insightful memoir: When it comes to girls and sexuality, image is everything. What Dobie-a naïve 14-year-old from a "good" Catholic family-does not understand is that reputation is all-important and there are different rules for boys and girls. She thinks that she can be one of the boys, that she can be accepted into their wild and unruly democracy. She wants to live the life her father lives, "a large life filled with drama." She wants to act, while simultaneously being acted upon-both the subject and object of desire. Even though she recognizes that women's sexuality is viewed with equal parts attraction and revulsion, she holds to the belief that she can "reap the desire and dodge the loathing."Dobie's book is about *a* sexual assault, yes, but it is about so much more than that. It is about being both insider and outsider; about the kindness and cruelty of peers; about the uniqueness of a young girl's desire; about being white and non-working-class; about "bad" boys and the contradictory expectations for men in American culture. It is about two years of one girl's life in a large family in a small town in the 1960's. If the goal of good writing is, as Anne Lamott says, "to turn the unspeakable into words-not just into any words, but if we can, into rhythm and blues," then Dobie has done just that. Her language is lyrical and specific, laced with details that capture the mood and setting of each freshly-exposed experience. The book does not aspire to the rough and randy humor of Mary Karr's "The Liar's Club," or the wry wittiness of Haven Kimmel's "A Girl Named Zippy" or the hardscrabble power of "Mama's Girl" by Veronica Chambers. In terms of subject matter, it is similar to Naomi Woolf's "Promiscuities," Deborah Kogan's "Shutterbabe," and Laurie Anderson's deftly-handled novel, "Speak." This is a memoir not so much about the perils of sexuality and risk-taking as about learning the limitations of femaleness in a hyper-masculinized culture. Those who think it is all about trauma are missing the point. Dobie bears witness to the possibility of accommodating to life in a woman's body-acquainted with but uncontained by fear.

If I had a list of "memoirs that are as fascinating and well-written as the best fiction" Kathy Dobie's "The Only Girl in the Car" would be the only book on my list. It begins as a conventional coming-of-age memoir (although one with stunningly beautiful prose) and then entices and entraps the reader into a mesmerizing narrative with a dramatic shape reminiscent of the best-structured novels.The book's sexuality is at once graphic and heartbreaking, a rare combination. Its depiction of high school society, especially the casual cruelty, is disturbingly accurate. It is a must for anyone, male or female, who has survived an American high school, and for anyone interested in a writer who creates a new genre of memoir with grace, beauty and frankness.

I was deeply moved by this book. I found the language poetic; the prose stunning. And, most importantly, I think, the author made me *feel* in a visceral way, what the protagonist was feeling. I was touched by the friendships - true friendships, that came from places that would (in the eyes of a society that sees things in black and white) seem implausable - yet there they were - glorious, for all of us to see. And I felt hurt for the utter betrayal suffered by a 15 year old girl. Naivete should never (but often does) lead to harm...and I felt for the "scrappy" 15 year old protagonist as she tried to find some kind of way to masculine affection. I think that Ms. Dobie has written an important book; I know many 15 year old girls who will feel empowered by her words; and I know many 51 year old women who will read her words and have them resonate inside them. But this isn't a woman's book; boys and men and intricately intertwined, and I pray that the title deosn't turn them off, for I know men who will read this book and see their daughters, their sisters - and themselves. Ms. Dobie has written truthfully; and at the same time leaves us with the message that the world is a big, bad and beautiful place. I highly recommend this book.