“In My Skin is a compelling story of love and squalor that retains humanity and sympathy, shocking more for the unsparing and understanding light it shines” says the Guardian.
Huh. I’ve got to find this other version of ‘In my skin’ and read it. Sounds good.
Kate, a young Australian girl, is set as the protagonist for this semi-biographical work. She is raised in comfortable, but by no means opulent, surroundings growing into an intellectual and artistic, though sometimes shy, woman.
Through a combination of misery, confusion and peer pressure, Kate slips into an existence slightly removed from the norm. Her experiences with ‘soft’ drugs eventually leads her to the seductive bliss of heroin. This growing addiction saps the meagre funds she receives from her work until she can think of no other way to raise the needed funds without turning to prostitution.
Her career (and career it is. Apparently licensed sex trade is legal in Australia) begins on the streets but progresses onto the slightly safer and accepted brothels; each establishment apparently better than the last.
The basic structure of the story is ‘Drugs’ – ‘Sex’ – ‘Fall in love’ ‘Run short of money’ – ‘Sex’ -’Quit drugs’ – ‘Argue with parents’ – ‘Take drugs once more’.
Take those words, repeat them three or four times, mix them up a little and bake for ten minutes. There’s the story.
Besides my dislike of the repetition and banality of some of the themes (personally, I believe that a biography should be carefully edited; no matter how interesting your life has been, some parts will be routine and do not belong in a book), my main gripe is that most of the narration is either disassociate, disingenuous or served with a heavy dosage of denial. Very little seems to be taken seriously or thought about in any real depth, which leads to all sorts of bad choices. I find it difficult to believe that someone who professes to be reasonably educated would think in this way, but perhaps that’s my own naïveté regarding the nature of addition (cigarettes not withstanding….).
I also think that this was a great opportunity for a worthwhile and honest opinion on prostitution. She does mention in the book that is can be both empowering and exploitive, but doesn’t seem to clarify if she thinks it could be a positive force in someone’s life or a worthy profession. She skims along the top of this issue and never seems to give a frank judgement.
There are some small bits of prose that I do enjoy in the book and she can certainly fit together evocative phrases. Unfortunately, this is mere ornamentation without substance and not worth the read.
Rating: 
