Rennie, Amy, and Cherry spend their high school
years together, facing down the normal trials of adolescence plus the
additional traumas of Amy’s drunken parents, Cherry’s drug-addicted mother, and
Rennie’s affair with the handsome drama teacher.  They call themselves the
Bitch Posse, vowing to be loyal only to each other.  They spend their free time
drinking, drugging, and screwing college boys.  And when one girl introduces
the others to cutting (meaning slicing their skin, not cutting class), they all
develop the habit.

Debut novelist Martha O’Connor tells the story
in chapters that alternate between the three girls and two time frames–their
last year of high school (1988) and the present (2003).  We immediately learn
that some monumental and tragic event tore the girls apart, and their adult
lives are unhappy in the extreme.  Rennie uses compulsive sex and cutting to
mask her misery.  Amy suffers through a failed marriage and the loss of a
child, drinking her sorrows away much like her parents did.  Cherry languishes
in a mental hospital.

In their narration, the girls explain the appeal
of cutting.  The pain somehow "sharpens" their consciousness, rising
up over the noise and focusing their attention.  Oddly, Amy overcomes the
cutting habit by becoming addicted to Xanax, which appears to have the opposite
effect.  She becomes calm but distant.

Curious about the phenomenon, I did some
reading.  Experts say that cutting produces transient pleasurable feelings by
triggering a flood of endorphins.  Some cutters have a higher-than-normal pain
threshold.  And cutting follows the same demographic trends as eating
disorders.  Cutters, like anorexics, tend to be middle-class, white,
perfectionist girls.

As we progress through the book we learn more
details of the girls’ experiences, which serves to explain why they are all
basket cases as adults.  The story builds toward the big climax–the terrible
violence that changed their world forever.  O’Connor drops hints about the
nature of the event, some of which turn out to be red herrings.  The suspense
is uneven, though, and the story drawn out a little too far.  By the time I got
to the climax, I had lost patience.  "Get on with it already," I
thought.  "This had better be good."

The three girls are appealing and believable
teenagers.  Their devotion to one another rings true.  Their adult difficulties
do seem to follow naturally from their troubled upbringing.  The climax and its
immediate aftermath go over the top and strain credulity, but for that I’ll
forgive a first-time author with a generally solid tale.

A final question posed by the narrative: Can a
youthful mistake with terrible consequences be overcome?  Must the individual
be forever guilty, or can she transcend the trauma?  O’Connor takes a clear
stand.   Readers may or may not agree.

© 2005 Jodi Forschmiedt