Curiouser And... Well, You Know The Rest

You can't imagine my excitement two Wednesdays ago when I pulled up the Trilogy website and saw that a hardcover copy of Alan Moore's famous and controversial graphic novel Lost Girls was being released as a limited edition, although I had my doubts that there would be any left by the time I got over to the store. It's come in and out of print several times, each time in various formats, but I've missed very opportunity to read it as its come by. But when I got to Trilogy the owner Jerry told me that he only had one left and it was on hold for a customer who was coming to pick it up the next day. But then he thought a moment and then called their sister store over in Norfolk to see if they had any more left. They had one left in stock, so he asked the girl there to bring it over to his store later that day, and he handed me the copy he had on hold. Success! And here I was perfectly at peace with not coming away with a copy for myself so last minute. The universe is certainly aligned for my benefit. Or Jerry just wanted to make a sale, either way.

And boy howdy, did it not disappoint. Lost Girls is the story of three very famous children from three very famous children's novels -- Alice from Alice In Wonderland, Wendy from Peter Pan, and Dorothy from The Wizard Of Oz -- all grown up now, and trying to sus out the mysteries from the incidents from their repressed, exceptional childhood experiences through sex, sex, and more sex. Locked away together in an exquisite Austrian hotel after the Boer Wars, the three ladies meet, mingle, and regale their past stories to one another, quite often to arousing effect. And the sex is graphic. Pornographic, even. And Moore himself seems to agree, or has been of the opinion that calling it pornography himself will compel its detractors to disagree and call it art, in order to be willfully contrary. But it's not without its share of controversy. Sodomy, Sadism, onanism, tribadism, incest, pedophilia, bestiality... few stones are left unturned, few taboos not brightly illustrated -- and all by the immaculate hand of Melinda Gebbie, with vivid colors that leap off the page, combining her own distinct style with segments that pay homage to the likes of Aubrey Beardsley and Alfons Mucha, as well as capturing each woman's story in a manner that creates a different visual universe for each fable to unfold.

But each woman has been haunted by her own demons from her past. Silver-slippered Dorothy, a sexually vivacious "farmer's daughter" type, has sex with all three of her farmhands, likening each one to a brainless scarecrow, a mechanical tin man, and a blustery boy hiding his secret cowardice. Aristocratic Alice, elderly yet still beautiful and sensual, prefers the sexual company of women only, though perhaps due to a repressed childhood memory of being molested by a friend of her father's in front of the family looking glass. Wendy, shy and demure, is married to a dull, stuffy older man who natters on about war ships and calls her "old thing" as his idea of a term of endearment. But she is haunted by an incident from her past, involving her brothers and a mysterious, Pan-like boy who teaches the Darlings how to express their nascent sexual awakenings.

But more than a simple sex-romp, Lost Girls objectifies while never losing sight over the characters themselves. Alice speaks with the elegant refinement of one of her station in life, with Wendy's simple, English middle-class speech and Dorothy's American Midwestern twang. Even the hotel itself stands as a stately pleasuredome to the world's harsh Xanadu, while Paris riots after Stravinsky's infamous The Rite Of Spring, Archduke Ferdinand is assassinated, and Europe is on the brink of the worst war it has ever faced. But even more than the sex itself, the story is about three women who together learn to face the "lost girls" that still live within themselves, purging their souls as well as refilling them with orgasmic ecstasy. In the minds of Moore and Gebbie, these three modern-day fairytales are parables of feminine sexuality. But it is also about three women coming to terms with who they are, and with each other as their guides. Feminist? Or just pain filthy? Moore and Gebbie let us decide for ourselves.