![]() I can quite see why this novel has the status of a cult classic: it’s powerful and potent and upsetting and gripping. But if it takes its content from the trashiest end of the spectrum, then it also allows it to unfold with the stately grandeur of Greek tragedy. It really does manage to compact twenty years’ worth of lurid celebrity magazine scandal between its covers, and to describe the trajectory of stardom as a steady downward descent into artifice and ruin. ![]() To add to a long list of lines I wish I’d written, I read somewhere that Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susann was ‘Harlequin romance meets Zola’, and it’s sort of true. ![]()
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