Lost Girls Hardcover Edition Hardcover – 30 Jul 2009

I'm not put off by graphic sex, but I'm not big on pornography. I do, however, have a lot of respect for Alan Moore's work, so I decided to give Lost Girls a go.

Moore proves here that it is possible to write high-brow porn. The problem is Moore himself. I enjoy his work, but he does have a tendency to get a bit dull. Dull and boring is exactly how I would describe Lost Girls. There's nothing very titillating about it. The sex itself isn't very imaginative and the whole story just lacks life. I would not be surprised if Moore was inspired by Victorian pornography since there's only a little raunchiness to be had and a lot of stuffy writing. Perhaps in the 1910s when this book is set, Lost Girls would have been considered much more titillating, but today, it fails to impress on that level. Pornography and erotica doesn't work unless there's some kind of life in it, some way to draw the reader into the debauchery taking place on the page. Moore is just not the person to write this kind of story because no matter how he tries, he writes in a very distant, self-conscious, intellectual way that is not a good fit for the genre.

As for the actual plot, which could have been Lost Girls's saving grace, there really wasn't much of one. Not a whole lot goes on beyond base sex. The story is supposed to be about sexual awakening and liberation, but it's weak and easily overshadowed by the copious amounts of boring sex going on. It's also somewhat disturbing. I know, I should have a stronger stomach for the destruction of favorite childhood stories as well as for all the pedophilia and incest. But combined with the cold writing and lifeless sex, there's no getting drawn into Moore's world. There's only sitting just outside of it being really disturbed at what you see going on. All the girls' sexual awakenings involve pedophilia or incest or both, and combined with Moore's distant style and high-brow concept, it doesn't draw you into a fantasy, but rather makes you think about reality... which is absolutely not the thing you want your readers to be thinking of when you're writing a pornographic story involving sex with children. Moore makes an attempt near the end of having a character explain why seeing such things in pornography is acceptable (because it's not real life, it's just a fantasy) and I might have been able to agree with him if there were more "fantasy" for this reader to latch onto.

It helped nothing that the story went on far too long. Had the length been cut in half, I believe that would have served the story better. I had no problem breezing through the first half, but after that I was almost too bored by the tedium to continue. I only finished it out of my determination to get through the whole story.

I have mixed feelings about Lost Girls. On the one hand, I appreciate what Moore was attempting and wonder if maybe I'm just being too much of a prude. On the other, there's just nothing to enjoy and the joylessness goes on twice as long as it ought to. Without any life in the writing, the characters, or the sex, it fails as a pornographic work. This works for Moore in his writing that is not specifically intended to be erotic, but it does not work here.

I'm a fan of Moore because of his creativity and sense of risk. While about of a quarter of the way into this collection I was smiling and laughing, by the middle I was groaning (not in a good way) and yawning, and by the end I was positively bored. Although I recognize the point of this sordid tale was excess (the mindless, intimacy-starved sex is the counterpart to world war) it was, well, +preachy+ and, lets face it, too much poking leads to soreness. Moore and his partner should have stopped while they were ahead, but they push this narrative to a kind of heterosexual extreme. What I thought held promise as a truly queer Moore endeavor ended up, well, ironically homophobic (proving, in an unintended way, that the most heterosexual relationship is the lesbian one). The most clever metanarrative here is the one in which the characters negotiate the charge of child pornography (which, lets face it, this book celebrates and complicates). This is very interesting, but in the final analysis, tedious. Not Moore's best. Indeed, perhaps among his worst for the mindless self-indulgence. Don't read in public.

"Desire's a strange land one discovers as a child, where nothing makes the slightest sense" (Book 1: VI, 3). Forget everything you knew about desire, this is one of the most lucid approaches anyone could ask for about a most fascinating subject.

We have heard much about how controversial Alan Moore's Lost Girl was and still is: forbidden in some countries, withheld by custom officers in others, we could easily dismiss it as a polemic work and thus leave it forever imprisoned into whatever mental drawer we put our taboos and scandalous items. Nonetheless, it would be a gross error to do so. Moore's work is highly literary and profoundly intellectual, it has nothing to envy to "serious" novels or academic authors. Using well-established literary creations such as Alice (from Wonderland), Dorothy (from the land of Oz) and Wendy (from Neverland), this long-bearded British man has, once again, made an innovation in the 9th art that perhaps will go unnoticed by some.

Let's make a quick review, chapter by chapter, of what exactly are those innovations, and why is it that Moore has put so much thought into each and every one of these lavishly illustrated pages.

Everyone familiar with bedtime stories knows about mirrors. A Mirror is a magic and powerful thing. But then again, in real life, mirrors are that which help us define ourselves, at least according to psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan. In Lacanian theory, the mirror stage starts when the child is between six and twelve months old: unable to walk properly, to talk fluently, unable even to control sphincters and thus bodily emissions; the child, indeed, is a clumsy, messy, unfinished creature, not at all like the adults he sees constantly. Then, one day, the mother will point at the mirror and say "that boy in the mirror is you". This means that a reflected image turns into the first "self" (at that age, to perceive oneself as a whole is quite a task), but this is nothing but an ideal image, for the boy is not the reflection captured by the mirror. However, in the mirror he is whole, he is that which the mother wants him to be, and thus, submitting to the desire of the mother, the child faces the intense dynamic of inter-subjective desire. But why should any of this psychoanalytic mumble-jumble have any relevance to "The Mirror", the first chapter of Book One? Because every frame in this chapter is, indeed, a mirror, Alice's mirror, that reflects what's going on in her life. Her casual lesbian encounters, her masturbatory sessions, but also the desire of the mother, translated into the desire of the mother's servants, who besiege Alice and affirm that no lady with such good upbringing should act like her. Indeed, by violating every taboo of a society too true to Victorian ideals, Alice defies the desire of the mother (she admits being "most unladylike"), and thus rejects that idealized image of her in the mirror.

"Silver Shoes", the second chapter, deals again with childhood experiences and the conformation of the "self". Here Dorothy, a young woman from Kansas, arrives to the Himmelgarten hotel. There, a good looking gentleman woos her, complimenting her on her lovely silver shoes. Is this man fixated on high heels? Well, of course he is. Footwear has always been one of the main fetishes in classic psychoanalytic theory. Freud, for example, used to say that all women desired the man's penis (he was no feminist, of course). A woman was somehow incomplete because of the lack of penis. Other authors have stated that foot fetishism starts at a very early age: A child, any child, is playing on the floor and raises his head to look at his mother, looking through the mother's skirt, he realizes she does not have a penis, and therefore she is incomplete. And the young boy suffers as he stumbles upon this discovery. And he suffers so much for it that he wishes to fill that void, to replace that lack of penis with something else, hence he looks down to the floor again and he stares at her mother's shoes, and unconsciously he turns those shoes into the penis, thus replacing the absence with something else. The shoes could be seen as a symbolic penis; Lacan, for example, would later re-elaborate the theory explaining that the high heel shoes would function as the mother's phallus, a phallus which has been previously denied by the father. It's no wonder, then, that Dorothy is seduced by Mr. Bauer, and while walking in the gardens, she gives in to the man's advances. She, however, cannot foresee that all that Bauer cares about is ejaculating onto her precious silver shoes. It would be fair to assume that only fetishism drives Bauer around.

The third chapter is titled "Missing Shadows" and is linked to one of Alice's earliest assertions on Plato's philosophy. If we remember the cavern allegory in "The Republic", then we will accept that the "real world" is but a world of shadows, "mere reflections" that could barely bear some resemblance to the "ideal world". Only one of the smartest writers could pull this off so coherently. Moore has already let us know Alice's opinion on Platonic theories. And in this chapter, the world of shadows becomes more real and intense than reality. Wendy arrives to the hotel with her white-haired husband, who pays little attention to her and seems more concerned with an erotic book filled with lascivious illustrations. Melinda Gebbie's talent shines even more displaying many different artistic styles here, the one referring to the erotic publication is reminiscent to illustrators of the 19th century, and even the details of the capital letters are revealing: every letter shows men and / or women engaged into some form of sexual activity creating with their bodies the silhouette of a given letter. There is indeed a great deal of unresolved sexual tension in this marriage, as it's made obvious by dialogue and facial expressions, but the best part is the shadow game. In front of a source of light, Wendy plays with a needle, gives her husband a sealed document, and takes some clothes out of her luggage, meanwhile her husband holds the document, wrapped up as a cylinder, talks to her, and in the end lets the seal fall to the floor. This apparently harmless scene, however, is seen as a very graphic fellatio and anal penetration, as the shadows behind them mirror not what truly happens but that which is sexually repressed. We must not forget either, the typical game of Peter Pan chasing after his rebellious shadow, and Wendy then stitching it back to his owner.

The next two chapters are a wonderful exercise of different perspectives coming together to tell one complete story. Chapter four, "Poppies", shows the moment in which Alice, known by all as Lady Fairchild, invites Miss Gale, the young American, to her table; the girl from Kansas, of course, is no other than Dorothy. In a nearby table, Wendy and her husband Harold are also having dinner. After the meal is over, the two women retire to Lady Fairchild's room. In there, after smoking laudanum, they start caressing each other, it's not long before mutual cunnilingus absorbs their attention completely. As they reach climax, they hear strange sounds coming from the next room, the room which houses a certain married couple. Chapter five, "Straight On Till Morning", shows what happens in Wendy and Harold's table. There he complains continuously about the effeminate characteristics of Art Nouveau, as well as the mild mannered gestures of the hotel's owner; once they finish eating, they go to their room at the same time Alice and Dorothy reach theirs. Overhearing part of what's going on in the next room, Harold imagines the two women naked, one with a whip and the other on the receiving end. Then, as things progress, Harold enters into even more wild fantasies, while Wendy goes over arithmetic procedures in her head. At one moment, she gets into the tub and cries out. Her husband asks her what's wrong and she answers that the water was too hot. This moment, however, is interpreted as a post-coitus conversation by the two women in the previous chapter.

In chapter six, "Queens Together", Alice and Dorothy are having sex outdoors, but amidst the bushes they sense someone else staring at them. The two women quickly confront the voyeur who turns out to be Wendy. The three of them then take some time to talk about personal issues and share confidences.

"The Twister", chapter eight, focuses mainly on Dorothy, as she narrates a paramount moment in her childhood. At 15 years old of age, an enormous twister menaces to shatter her house. Fearing for her life, she regrets dying a virgin, and soon finds herself aroused and decides to do that which she is not supposed to do (she also uses the word "unladylike"): pleasuring herself. She admits being wet down there and proceeds to satisfy herself with her fingers. Her orgasm also marks the twister's disappearance but also her relocation to what she believes to be the Land of Oz. It's Wendy's turn in chapter nine, "Come Away, Come Away"; in this occasion she remembers her first encounter with a boy who had knelt down on top of a naked girl "shoving backwards and forwards". At night, talking about this weird moment with her two brothers, she finds out the same boy climbing up to her room. There, the three of them receive them and ask for an explanation. To this, Peter Pan lowers his trousers and proceeds to explain the nature of "happy thoughts" while Wendy's brothers start rubbing each other penises. Wendy also touches Peter Pan's "affair", as she calls it, and a few minutes later, her brothers ejaculate onto her bed, while Peter Pan does the same over her body. Finally, in chapter nine, "Looking Glass House", Alice explains how a friend of her father invites her to accompany him. The bald, anxious man then proceeds to teach her to seat down as ladies should, but of course, that's not enough, he makes her drink a mysterious liquid that never ends, and as she starts feeling hot, the man suggests that she should remove her clothes. During this "statutory rape" scene, Alice imagines that a girl identical to her comes out of the mirror to have sex with her.

The last episode of Book One "Older Girls" is chapter ten, "Stravinsky". Here, Lady Fairchild has invited Wendy and Harold, as well as Dorothy and Mr. Bauer to the ballet inauguration in Paris. There, while ecstatically admiring the dancers, Alice, sitting in the middle, will proceed to kiss Dorothy, at her right, and then Wendy, at her left. Of course, then she will place one hand on Dorothy's thigh, and the other hand on Wendy's bosom. As the two men grow bored watching the ballet, the three women have the time of their lives.

Books two and three of Lost Girls dig even deeper into the three women's psyche. Sex plays a fundamental part in this psychic and physical exploration. Sex humanizes characters such as the scarecrow, the lion and the tin man in Dorothy's Land of Oz. Nonetheless, sexual acts become potentially dangerous in Wendy's Neverland; after all here Captain Hook is a pedophile whose main goal is to molest Peter Pan and Tinker Bell is more of a sexual victim than a fairy. Finally, Alice finds refugee in the home of a mature lesbian that will force her into acts of such depravity that at the end will become insufferable.

When Austria's archduke is assassinated World War I is upon the protagonists, but when everyone flees from the hotel the owner (a gay writer of erotic books) and part of the staff stay behind, only to partake in wild orgies for entire days. With unflinching ease, Dorothy will understand the power of sex; Wendy, previously seen as a shy and subjugated character, will no longer feel ashamed or diminished; and at last, but not least, Alice will reevaluate her entire life thus feeling more comfortable with her sexuality than ever before.

In a thoroughly orchestrated journey, this elliptic narration draws near to the end as the penultimate chapter mirrors the first one: it's all about mirrors and what do they mean. In this case, Alice's mirror no longer reflects the characters we met on the first pages, since they have changed and evolved. If the mirror was the key in identity conformation, then it's no surprise to realize that once these women have reached their true selves, the idealized images on the glass surface are no longer vital. Last chapter is, perhaps, a subtle but touching adage that reminds us that, although some may doubt it, to make love is always a better option than to make war.

Alice of 'Alice in Wonderland' and 'Through the Looking Glass'; Wendy of 'Peter Pan'; and Dorothy of 'The Wizard of Oz' have enchanted young readers for generations in these now classic stories of childhood fantasy. In "Lost Girls", author Alan Moore and artist Melinda Gebbie have taken those three iconic characters and created wholly new interpretations of them, their circumstances, and their histories. Clearly a work of imaginative and visualized erotica, "Lost Girls" is for an adult readership only. In this newly created fantasy universe, the three girls are now grown women and find themselves together in French hotel just prior to the outbreak of World War I. They gradually reveal their pasts to one another, discovering common interests and uncommon experiences. "Lost Girls" is a newly created classic in its own right and highly recommended for mature readers who will appreciate the reworking of other classics into a wholly new and engaging graphic novel format work of impressive and memorable literature.

Bought this for a gift and he loves it. Kind of over the top for my taste-not interested in seeing my favorite childhood fairy tale characters involved in porn! When animals become involved that is more than enough for me to look away! That is just downright disturbing to me, even if it is just an animated comic style book.