Review of Shopgirls by Julia Blau: A Personal Journey through 1980s San Francisco
When I first picked up Shopgirls by Julia Blau, I expected a nostalgic plunge into the glamor and grit of 1980s San Francisco, a place that holds a special place in my heart. Having lived in the Bay Area during that particular era and spent countless hours in the legendary I. Magnin’s, I was drawn in by the promise of a story steeped in that vibrant world. Yet, I found myself grappling with the book’s quirks and inconsistencies, ultimately leaving me with mixed feelings.
The narrative revolves around Zip, a character who strives to navigate life and her personal identity amid the swirling chaos of retail and changing societal norms, particularly surrounding the AIDS crisis—an issue that was painfully real during that time. Blau doesn’t shy away from the stark realities of the 1980s, and for that, I genuinely applaud her. The dark shadow of panic and misinformation surrounding the AIDS epidemic unfolds in a raw and unvarnished manner, echoing the fear that permeated the era, especially after Rock Hudson’s passing. It’s moments like these that remind us how literature can serve as a mirror to society’s struggles, despite the sometimes clunky delivery.
However, my enthusiasm wavered as I delved deeper into Zip’s journey. While I initially felt a connection to her struggles, she quickly became more of a doormat or, at best, a human camcorder sitting idly through pivotal moments. I mean, how can you root for a protagonist who, while entrusted with a significant secret, decides to spill the beans not just to one friend, but two? It felt like a betrayal of sorts and left me frustrated rather than enlightened. This decision, which should have been a turning point, only deepened my disconnection from Zip.
Blau’s writing style added another layer to my experience. At 270 pages, the narrative felt drawn out. The awkward phrasing and pacing often pulled me out of the story, leaving me yearning for tighter prose to carry the gravity of the themes. Almost painfully detailed moments, like the contents of a handbag filled with dusty, sticky coins and mummified gum wrappers, left me contemplating whether they served a purpose beyond mere nostalgia.
Yet, amid my critiques, there were redeeming qualities. Shopgirls aptly captures a moment in time, transporting readers back to a San Francisco that was vibrant yet fraught with contradictions. While the role-playing scenes with paper dolls felt tedious and prompted some serious eye-rolling, they seemed to underscore the larger theme of women seeking agency in a world that often silences them.
In conclusion, Shopgirls may resonate deeply with readers who share a connection to the Bay Area or the tumultuous 1980s. For those who appreciate a dive into the past, coupled with the unraveling of personal identity amid societal upheaval, there may be much to glean from this story. Just approach it with a slight caution, and perhaps a willingness to embrace its imperfections. Ultimately, my reading experience was a reminder that not every journey is smooth—sometimes, it’s all about the bumps along the way. And while Zip may not have been my favorite travel companion, Blau’s exploration of the era lingered long after I turned the last page.