So I've been having a pretty spectacular summer full of excellent beach days and trips out of town, but even with all the sweating and skin-showing, something does seem a bit off. So I sat down and did some thinking as I sipped a very tall glass of black iced tea cut with mint. Through the haze and humidity, the thought slowly dawned that the fly in my tanning oil might just be my reading list. Naomi Klein? Coetzee? With these temperatures?? I settled back in my deck chair, nibbled some homemade ice cream, and I thought a little more (it wasn't easy). Finally I realized what -- besides the endless heat wave -- would make Summer 2010 truly one for the record books: a little summer Love Machine! Yeah, we'll make out under the dock.... we'll stay out 'til ten o'clock.... yeah, that's right: Jackie S and I sunbathing in matching Pucci bikinis. Could there possibly be a more scorching vision?So far this book is amazing, and the horrifying plight of its beautiful heroine finally a tragedy I can relate to. Enough with the torture chambers and violence and geopolitical horrorshow. Bring on 1960 network television executives and their slutty secretaries! Then please hold my calls, cancel my table at "21," and just have the pharmacist send my scrips over. I'll be out by the pool if anyone needs me!----THE REVIEW:Okay, so this was no Valley of the Dolls, but honestly, what is? The Love Machine isn't a timeless classic of Western Literature like Dolls, but it was sure a lot of fun. The main character here is hunky, emotionally crippled Robin Stone, who epitomizes Susann's image of masculinity. Women love him, men fear him, etc., etc., rinse and repeat.... The "structure" (if I may) of the novel is that it's divided into three parts, each named for one of the many women who madly love Robin. And madly love him tragically because, being as he is the Übermensch-with-Mommy-Issues, Robin sure can screw, but he cannot Love Back. So it is with great irony that he is known as "The Love Machine," which also refers in this book to television, the industry of which dominates the characters' lives.As my mother's comment below suggests, it's almost impossible to review this book today without mentioning Mad Men. This book is to Mad Men as the authentic, stained, and unflattering but brainshakingly awesome 60s housedress you found at the Goodwill Bins is to a three-digit-price-tagged designer retro-chic sixties-inspired skirt selling at a Soho boutique. In other words, friends, The Love Machine is the real deal, and it's dreadfully hideous, but it's just so much fun. My favorite thing about this book was all the insane period details, which I fervently hope describe a culture that actually existed, even though that's pretty hard to believe. Even though it's not overtly about the despair of substance abuse like Dolls was, the people in this book just drink and smoke constantly, and when it's time to go to sleep, they always take sleeping pills. Like that was just what you did when it was time to go to sleep in this era, you took a pill (or some pills) and then lay down in your bed. Also the only thing anyone ever eats in this book is a steak. When a girl's really in love with the guy and is trying to get him to marry her, instead of going out to "21" she has the guy over and cooks him a steak. And then they hold hands and watch television and drink a beer, which in this book is not considered an alcoholic beverage (vodka and scotch are alcohol, and people drink beer when they're "on the wagon"). The girls are all always putting in their diaphragms or taking them out, depending on their intentions and the demands of the situation. From what I could tell, "making love to him" is lingo here for a blowjob. I believe that cold cream is employed as a lubricant. When the girls cry about something, as they do pretty frequently, it takes them literally an hour to fix their makeup because they're all wearing false eyelashes and pancake. Occasionally if they're sad or casual (in light makeup) they'll have a hamburger instead of a steak. When the girls get dressed up, they have to put on a FALL! All these bizarre period details were my favorite thing here. My other favorite thing was the deranged, unabashed, over-the-top inventive silliness of the plot. This is one of those no-holds-barred books: out-of-the-blue medical drama? Of course. Orgies? Why not? There is a ton of gay sex in this book, which was fun. Psychotherapy? Amnesia? Plastic surgery? Italian villas? Graphic violence? Check, check, check, check, CHECK! Yeah, basically every soap opera cliche and insane, shameless plot turn you can think of is crammed into this baby, to wonderful effect. For me, one of the more memorable parts of Barbara Seaman's underwhelming biography Lovely Me: The Life of Jacqueline Susann was her portrait of the author as a young girl. I seem to recall her playmates describing Jackie as a loud, sex-obsessed child who always craved attention and had no shame in pursuing it. And I remember remembering the kids like that that I knew -- larger than life children who just said and did and thought the most insanely filthy and creative things, who told bizarre, outlandish lies that no one would believe but which were fascinating, and who never toned it down or were shy or afraid of consequences. Jacqueline Susann was obviously one of those kids, and she never grew out of it. That's what makes this book so much fun: there's no sense of restraint or effort at anything more elevated than purely pleasurable entertainment. It's just wild, and out there, and she never stopped typing to ask, "Is this really believable?"; "Is it offensive?"; "Is this dumb?". No, she just kept probably popping Dexedrine and letting her imagination go wild. No distracting thoughtfulness, no inhibitions.... like a regular love machine.Reminiscent of some monstrous creamsicle nearly too big for one's mouth, this was the ultimate summer novel, and I truly did relish it.
The was a pretty good book. I was actually expecting the sexually driven drivel that has become the basis of any book written by a woman because that is what they think women want to read.It was refreshing to read a book that focused on relationships in a manner that was not completely driven by sex. Although there is PG rated,non descriptive sex in the book.I think for the time frame this book was written in, she was addressing subjects that may have still taboo in society. Lesbianism, gay, transexual (briefly, and in Europe), sex before marriage, orgies, I mean there was all sorts of flavor in here. I think though that although she may have been pushing the envelope in the 60's when this was written, it was pretty tame by today's standards.Robin Stone was enigmatic and I wish there had been more depth to him but would that have made his character better? Don't know. But considering she wrote this book after Valley of the Dolls, I understand why he wasn't as big of a success.Would love to see the movie version. The guy who played the Angel in Barberella was Robin Stone.
What do You think about The Love Machine (1997)?
Well... I found it under my little sisters bed. WTF I thought, she is supposed to be an 'intellectual' isn't this the same lady who wrote that 'dolls' book I secretly read at 14? My (ex) bf wasn't back for days, and I was stuck upstate with too much time on my hands and too much family drama to ignore I decided to read it..Realised the Robin guy was... Well, my boyfriend!!! Couldn't put it down. Decided to hate him. I don't believe I learned about 'men' because of 'the love machine'. This book is AWFUL... but if you're ever in a relationship rut and truly bored... It gets to the point fast!!! No sugar coated love crap.. Get this.. he is not the one, and neither are you!
—Tilly
I thought this book was way to long with the same drama that continued to repeat itself over and over. Although I like the way Jacqueline Susan sets up the scenes in this novel, they seemed to fade off into "nothings" leaving me wondering what became of them. By Chapter 24, I was ready for Robin Stone to be written out of the book and was surprised (and not happily surprised, speechless is more the word) by the ending. I found it hard to get attached to the characters...especially the women who had nothing better to do but to gravel at the foot of an arrogant young man. (Kind of out of place for the 60's when women's lib was at a peak time). I think this could of been a much better story if it was cut in half and had a better plot that was a bit more substantial with any ending that left you satisfied. I didn't find that in this story at all. I enjoyed Valley Of The Dolls and look forward to reading Once Is Not Enough.
—Linda
The only page worth reading in this book is the prologue.I got the impression from some of the reviews here that this book is a classic and celebrated “trash.” I thought it might be a good time for me to ignore my prejudice against the genre and give it a try – with me moving back to the sunny and happy Southern California and all. I was hoping for good, fun, and entertaining trash. This book is not trash. It’s crap. I leave it at that.It is also possible that my sense of fun and humor is hopelessly damaged and I just don’t get it. In any case – soap opera is not my thing. This book established that fact. This is the prologue that tempted me to read the book:MAN CREATED THE MACHINE.A Machine does not feel love, hate or fear; it does not suffer from ulcers, heart attacks or emotional disturbances.Perhaps man’s only chance of survival is to become a machine.Some men have succeeded.A machine who passes for a man often rules societies – a dictator is a power machine in his country. A dedicated artist can turn into a talent machine. Sometimes this evolution occurs without the man realizing it.Perhaps it happens the first time he says, “I am hurt,” and his subconscious replies, “If I cut all feeling from my life – I cannot be hurt!”Amanda would have laughed if you had told her this about Robin Stone – because Amanda was in love with him.Robin Stone was a handsome man.He could smile with his lips.He could think without emotion.He could make love to her with his body.Robin Stone was The Love Machine.
—Jafar
