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Books : Fiction : Contemporary Fiction: 1970 Onwards : Authors A-Z : L : Lette, Kathy
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Kathy Lette's Dead Sexy is a dyspeptic account of the reality show from hell; music teacher Shelly is entered by her pupils for the computer date of a life-time--marriage, honeymoon and a large cash bonus if she and her husband make a go of it. The trouble is that every single thing the highly attractive Kit Kincade tells her is a complete lie--his mane of blond hair is a wig. Shipped off with him to a tropical island in the middle of civil war and natural disaster, and surrounded by television folk of an untrustworthiness which makes even Kit look savoury, Shelly is hopelessly confused, not least by her own feelings.Tightly plotted and stuffed with witty one-liners, Dead Sexy is what we expect from Kathy Lette--a lightweight romp that is no stranger to deeper feelings. The complex lies the characters tell are not always entirely opposed to the inner truth of their emotions--there is a real distinction made here, at times a snobbish one, between those characters who lie out of habit and those who fib out of necessity. --Roz Kaveney
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To those lucky enough to have read her, it will come as no surprise that Kathy Lette's new book is outrageous, savage, and quite hilarious. In such irreverent books as Foetal Attraction, Lette has redefined both the sex war and survival tactics for women in terms that are entirely her own. Her heroine this time is Becky Steele (Is it an accident that the name so resembles the spiky heroine of Thackeray's Vanity Fair?), who is wondering about how serious a breach of etiquette it is to run out on one's own wedding. Clinging to the window ledge of her parents' bathroom, she finds herself wondering whether her intended, Julian, a human rights lawyer, is suitable for a women who shouldn't really be married. Of course, Becky's problem is the same as the hero of many a male novel--has she encountered enough sexual variety? There is, for instance, the rock star toyboy Zack, a man whose libido is almost as out of control as Becky's. And before she arrives at her reluctant decision, there is an equal ratio of hard decisions and a considerable testing of bedsprings, all of which is the perfect justification for Lette's mordant wit and coruscating one-liners. --Barry Forshaw
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To those lucky enough to have read her, it will come as no surprise that Kathy Lette's new book is outrageous, savage, and quite hilarious. In such irreverent books as Foetal Attraction, Lette has redefined both the sex war and survival tactics for women in terms that are entirely her own. Her heroine this time is Becky Steele (Is it an accident that the name so resembles the spiky heroine of Thackeray's Vanity Fair?), who is wondering about how serious a breach of etiquette it is to run out on one's own wedding. Clinging to the window ledge of her parents' bathroom, she finds herself wondering whether her intended, Julian, a human rights lawyer, is suitable for a women who shouldn't really be married. Of course, Becky's problem is the same as the hero of many a male novel--has she encountered enough sexual variety? There is, for instance, the rock star toyboy Zack, a man whose libido is almost as out of control as Becky's. And before she arrives at her reluctant decision, there is an equal ratio of hard decisions and a considerable testing of bedsprings, all of which is the perfect justification for Lette's mordant wit and coruscating one-liners. --Barry Forshaw
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To those lucky enough to have read her, it will come as no surprise that Kathy Lette's new book is outrageous, savage, and quite hilarious. In such irreverent books as Foetal Attraction, Lette has redefined both the sex war and survival tactics for women in terms that are entirely her own. Her heroine this time is Becky Steele (Is it an accident that the name so resembles the spiky heroine of Thackeray's Vanity Fair?), who is wondering about how serious a breach of etiquette it is to run out on one's own wedding. Clinging to the window ledge of her parents' bathroom, she finds herself wondering whether her intended, Julian, a human rights lawyer, is suitable for a women who shouldn't really be married. Of course, Becky's problem is the same as the hero of many a male novel--has she encountered enough sexual variety? There is, for instance, the rock star toyboy Zack, a man whose libido is almost as out of control as Becky's. And before she arrives at her reluctant decision, there is an equal ratio of hard decisions and a considerable testing of bedsprings, all of which is the perfect justification for Lette's mordant wit and coruscating one-liners. --Barry Forshaw