My introduction to Francesca Lia Block was her short story collection
Girl Goddess #9, which I read last spring at the suggestion
of a teacher friend who said many of the teenagers she knows are
devouring Block’s books (she currently has at least ten on bookstore
shelves). I think I know why; they are hooked, like I am, on her
quirky sensibility. I’ve certainly never read other books written
specifically for and about adolescents that delve so deeply into
such strange levels of dysfunction and simultaneously dither in
the world of magic realism. Occasionally the stories in Girl
Goddess #9 dip into the macabre, but mostly they skim along
the surface of what could be a vast and painful and uniquely human
sea, only pushing beneath the surface enough to make us hold our
breath a few seconds at a time. I never had the sense of drowning,
but I did have the sense that danger lurked nearby.

In Violet & Claire, however, I felt myself dragged
along beneath the water in ways that left me gasping occasionally.
Block has written the extraordinarily painful story of two young
women whose friendship ultimately buoys them through a storm of
conflicts, but just barely. At times, both women nearly succumb
to the fractured worlds that have been created for them and that
they continue to create.

Violet is a film enthusiast whose ambition to be a writer and
director eventually temporarily claims her soul. She meets Claire–who,
in true Francesa Lia Block-esque style, wears gauzy wings attached
to her t-shirt–at the school they both attend and is immediately
enchanted with Claire’s ethereal innocence. Violet calls Claire
“Tinkerbell.” Like Violet, Claire is an artist-a poet,
to be precise. The girls develop a quick kinship, and Violet offers
Claire the lead in the movie script she’s trying to write.

The relationship falters, however, when Violet sells her screenplay
and drops too quickly into the fab-glam arena of Hollywood over-indulgence
and self-loathing. Claire, in the meantime, falls hard for an
older poet, whose penchant for language is at first beguiling.
He, of course, ultimately reveals his flawed nature. Violet distrusts
the poet and Claire feels abandoned by her friend when she becomes
an overnight success story. However, after Block follows her two
heroines through the worlds of stardom and youthful illusion,
she eventually turns them toward each other in their searches
for safety and acceptance.

I wonder at this writing, at what compels Block to create such
tragic and unsophisticated–yet worldly–characters. She has peeled
back the veneers in this book, bringing to the surface two teenagers
that the current generation of adolescents recognizes and, perhaps,
loves. The layering of fantasy and harsh reality in Violet
& Claire leaves me on the edge of understanding, leaves
me wanting to read it all again to see if I can get a tighter
grip on Block’s intentions. But the marvel of her popularity clearly
says that she’s striking chords her young audiences want to hear.

© 2001 Toby Emert



Toby Emert is
currently finishing up a doctorate in Education at the University
of Virginia. He has worked as a freelance journalist, a classroom
teacher, a counselor, and a director in offices, classrooms, and
on stages in several major US cities.

Categories: Fiction