That's because "I Am Charlotte Simmons" is a cautionary tale, a sexually and emotionally frank work of polemical fiction that should shake the young even as it speaks to their parents. But will they listen? Explicit as the book is about unconstrained bodily functions (not all sexual), it's a definite rap on the 1960s revolution that sanctified promiscuities from "free love" to hooking up. Which seems to irritate reviewers peering into the book from the Left. They seem to resent the fact that this massive tome is no "Sex and the Dorm" or "Desperate Coeds," even if it shares certain themes in common with both "Sex and the City" and "Desperate Housewives." But where "Charlotte Simmons" is disturbing and dispiriting, "Sex" and "Housewives" are supposed to titillate and lead on.
And they do more than that. Like the crime show "CSI," their kin in coarseness, "Housewives" et. al. expand the boundaries of accepted, even expected, talk and behavior. A ratings squib on "CSI: Miami" noted that 22.26 million viewers is a lot of people to hear a character remark, "Where there's vomit, there's bile. Where there's bile, there's DNA." Television crimesolvers from Peter Wimsey to Columbo never thought to mention such goos, which probably says less about their reticence than about the contemporary pose of full-frontal exposure.
According to Newsweek, one "Housewives" script called for a character to shame her TV husband by publicly announcing he "cries after he --." (I omit the verb, if only to keep my byline Google-pure.) According to the magazine, the actress "blanched when she first read the scene. 'Honestly, I was, like, I can't say that line,' she says. But she did," the story continues, "and with the kind of glee (the character) reserves for a perfect souffle."
"But she did" is hardly the end of the story. In overriding instinctive modesty or even the irrelevant tug of good manners, this actress did more than force herself to imagine and project an image of sexual humiliation. She also passed it on to the rest of us. She pushed the envelope where we think and live. She ensured such yuck will come across the TV screen more easily next time -- and also in real life.
Vomit, bile and explicit ick. Frankly, it's a heap for poor Charlotte Simmons to have to muck out alone.