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The Service
Lori works illegally in a rented flat in central London, living in fear of police raids which could mean losing her small daughter and her dream of a new life.
Freya is a student who finds she can make far more money as an escort than she could in an office; life, after all, is already a tangle of madness and dissociation.
And Paula is a journalist whose long-term campaign against prostitution has brought her some strange bedfellows.
After a shock change to the law, with brothels being raided by the authorities, lives across the country are fractured. As a threat from Lori’s past begins to catch up with her, the three women are increasingly, inevitably drawn into each other’s orbit
The Service is a powerful and challenging novel about women’s bodies, sex and relationships, mental health, entitlement, authenticity, privilege and power – as shocking as any dystopia, but touching and deeply humane.
Freya is a student who finds she can make far more money as an escort than she could in an office; life, after all, is already a tangle of madness and dissociation.
And Paula is a journalist whose long-term campaign against prostitution has brought her some strange bedfellows.
After a shock change to the law, with brothels being raided by the authorities, lives across the country are fractured. As a threat from Lori’s past begins to catch up with her, the three women are increasingly, inevitably drawn into each other’s orbit
The Service is a powerful and challenging novel about women’s bodies, sex and relationships, mental health, entitlement, authenticity, privilege and power – as shocking as any dystopia, but touching and deeply humane.
364 pages, Paperback
First published June 24, 2021
27 people are currently reading
3399 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 112 reviews
June 3, 2021
The Service is a rotating three-pronged device pushing through the discourse on sex worker rights in the UK - if you’re the sort of person who knows which guardian journos think which things, poisoned by the endless centrist hand-wringing, then this book carries a particular delight in its careful, ironic evisceration of that particular class. But the novel is more than just a prod at the easy Liberal SWERF. it’s pleasingly complicated and never easy. In choosing three different protagonists in three very different social positions all clustered around sex work, Miren is able to let the personalities and emotions clash in ways which can be hard to read but are never anything but highly readable.
The Service has some great ‘no please don’t say that oh god’ moments which made me physically cringe. What I worry is in danger is our ability to have complicated protagonists, and Frankie, in great form, offers us up three of them, each distinct, each sympathetic, each extremely aggravating.
Can’t wait to see the conversations this book sparks, because imo it’s sure the be the best small press debut of the year (that isn’t my one at least).
The Service has some great ‘no please don’t say that oh god’ moments which made me physically cringe. What I worry is in danger is our ability to have complicated protagonists, and Frankie, in great form, offers us up three of them, each distinct, each sympathetic, each extremely aggravating.
Can’t wait to see the conversations this book sparks, because imo it’s sure the be the best small press debut of the year (that isn’t my one at least).
April 21, 2021
Read this book - buy it for everyone you know. It is thrillingly good, generous, spiky, satirical, loving and richly detailed. It is funny and smart and just so so good on sex work, on friendship, on trauma, on motherhood and on London. It is completely compelling.
March 15, 2022
Sex workers has long been subjects of fascination in literature, appearing as alternately glamorous or fallen ladies of the night, often as prisms through which male writers or protagonists work out their frustrations with sexuality, women, or masculinity. Rarely do we see novels written by sex workers about their own social conditions. Where Frankie Miren's new novel The Service succeeds is by delivering a social novel illustrating contemporary British sex workers' lives and politics. Written by a member of ECP and with a short political manifesto in the back, this debut novel uses its three characters to bring to life the perspectives and debates swirling around the fight for decriminalization.
October 9, 2022
4.5 - frankie miren does an excellent job of representing the shades of grey in a complex topic that is so often flattened and oversimplified in both directions in the mainstream public discourse, and she does so without ever making her characters feel like superficial mouthpieces for a point of view she’s arguing either for or against - i saw aspects of myself and my beliefs in each of the three protagonists, and i was impressed by miren’s ability to find ideas of value even in her most misguided of characters. a good book!
July 29, 2021
Often, when we think of 'clever' novels, we think of beautifully turned MFA prose, exquisite little metaphors, prettiness, formal complication. The Service showcases a different kind of intelligence. It's a polemical novel about sex work, the lives of sex workers and the real-world impact of criminalisation, but instead of dissolving into archetypes and reproduced blog posts, Miren has created a smart, fearless and incisive novel that refuses to shy away from complexity. She doesn't sanitise her portrayal of sex workers, or refuse to articulate their complicated feelings, flaws and disagreements with each other. She lets the strength of her argument do its work.
The Service is incredibly absorbing and I'm such a fan of its character work. There are three protagonists in this book: Lori, a sex worker of colour with a young daughter, who is paranoid that her abusive ex might find her; Freya, a white, middle-class student and escort who struggles with mental illness; and Paula, a pro-criminalisation journalist whose views directly contradict Lori and Freya's experience. Lori's the anchor of the novel, the one who things happen to, and she's well-rounded enough, but the real strength is in Freya, Paula, and in some side characters, particularly Jade. Freya is privileged in various ways and the sense that she is safer than others is always present, but her mental illness changes her relationship to her class position without cancelling her class advantage. Paula could easily be set up as a straightforward villain, but her understandable feminist aims - shared by many of the other characters - serve to highlight how flawed her proposed solutions are. And Jade, a pissed off sex worker who hates clients, is deeply relatable, but when she yells at and humiliates a client, she ends up prioritising her own catharsis over Freya's safety.
Normally I'd give this 4 stars, because I had a few problems with it:
-the artistry of the writing occasionally falters, with e.g. overstretched metaphors (the 'lily' metaphor Paula uses) or concepts that somewhat overstay their welcome (I'm not sure how successful the 'colourful energies' thing with Freya is)
-Lori could use a couple more flaws or concrete positions to bring her up to the complexity of Freya and Paula
-
However, I liked it so much that I decided it gets 5 anyway. A stunning achievement.
Oh, and I was really impressed to see that treatment of freelance journalism, as a freelancer. God knows I'd never take a paycheque for that shit, but it was a really nuanced treatment of the whole industry and the various pressures that lead to harmful, sensationalised journalism.
The Service is incredibly absorbing and I'm such a fan of its character work. There are three protagonists in this book: Lori, a sex worker of colour with a young daughter, who is paranoid that her abusive ex might find her; Freya, a white, middle-class student and escort who struggles with mental illness; and Paula, a pro-criminalisation journalist whose views directly contradict Lori and Freya's experience. Lori's the anchor of the novel, the one who things happen to, and she's well-rounded enough, but the real strength is in Freya, Paula, and in some side characters, particularly Jade. Freya is privileged in various ways and the sense that she is safer than others is always present, but her mental illness changes her relationship to her class position without cancelling her class advantage. Paula could easily be set up as a straightforward villain, but her understandable feminist aims - shared by many of the other characters - serve to highlight how flawed her proposed solutions are. And Jade, a pissed off sex worker who hates clients, is deeply relatable, but when she yells at and humiliates a client, she ends up prioritising her own catharsis over Freya's safety.
Normally I'd give this 4 stars, because I had a few problems with it:
-the artistry of the writing occasionally falters, with e.g. overstretched metaphors (the 'lily' metaphor Paula uses) or concepts that somewhat overstay their welcome (I'm not sure how successful the 'colourful energies' thing with Freya is)
-Lori could use a couple more flaws or concrete positions to bring her up to the complexity of Freya and Paula
-
However, I liked it so much that I decided it gets 5 anyway. A stunning achievement.
Oh, and I was really impressed to see that treatment of freelance journalism, as a freelancer. God knows I'd never take a paycheque for that shit, but it was a really nuanced treatment of the whole industry and the various pressures that lead to harmful, sensationalised journalism.
May 9, 2021
A hugely compelling and intimate story of three women bound together by sex work and its impact on their lives. There's so much messy, real complexity here and while that shouldn't feel radical in the year 2021, it is.
July 11, 2021
Fantastic novel that deserves to be widely read, telling stories we rarely hear. Great insight into the messy realities of sex work from various perspectives - no glossy glamourisation, no simple narrative, but also very clear implications about criminalisation. Also just very compelling plot and well written, rich descriptions, and a wonderful cast of characters that really came alive. You'll be richer for reading it - strong recommend.
August 11, 2021
This book is compelling and utterly brilliant. I was hooked from the first couple of pages; drawn into the lives of these women and the women around them as they navigate the realities of a world that criminalises their existence. There is so much woven into the tapestry of this book that speaks to the complexities of survival and work, as well as the grossness of the U.K. media and totally misguided feminist perceptions of sex work (the motivations for which are really cleverly explored through the character of Paula). Intelligent and honest writing, brilliant characterisation, fantastic pace, exploring women’s lives, bodies, sex, power, relationships, and more. I loved it.
January 24, 2022
I talked about this book so much that my husband picked it up out of curiosity, and that's a solid review right there!
This is an incredible book; it highlights the plight of sex workers in a fictional UK, where two sex workers are trying to make ends meet, while a third journalist works hard to end their industry. If you've ever thought of sex work or prostitution in black and white terms, this book will change your mind. The book is complex, the characters are nuanced, and oh so human! This is one of those that will really make you think about why people resort to sex work, and under what conditions they work.
There is quite something that didn't really work for me and I can't put finger on it. It might have been that one of the character is less drawn out than the other two, and parts of the ending felt really rushed but I still really enjoyed it.
This is an incredible book; it highlights the plight of sex workers in a fictional UK, where two sex workers are trying to make ends meet, while a third journalist works hard to end their industry. If you've ever thought of sex work or prostitution in black and white terms, this book will change your mind. The book is complex, the characters are nuanced, and oh so human! This is one of those that will really make you think about why people resort to sex work, and under what conditions they work.
There is quite something that didn't really work for me and I can't put finger on it. It might have been that one of the character is less drawn out than the other two, and parts of the ending felt really rushed but I still really enjoyed it.
November 9, 2023
3,5*
Labai įdomi knyga pravėrusi langą ir leidusi pažvelgti į sekso paslaugų darbuotojų kasdienybę. Ypatingai džiaugiuosi pasirinkusi autorę, kuri glaudžiai su tuo susijusi ir įsitraukusi į įvairias asosociacijas ir veiklas. O ta kasdienybė pavaizduota visiškai nepagražinta, tiesmuka, paverčianti visas scenas labai realiomis ir tiesiog priverčianti pajausti personažų sunkumus. Istorija pasakojama iš trijų moterų perspektyvos, kurios vienaip ar kitaip susijusios su prostitucija. Nors daug veiksmo ir nėra, tekstas plaukė lengvai. Kas galiausiai šiek tiek nuvylė tai - pabaiga. Nors labai sunku įvardinti ko trūko, bet atomazga felt flat. Iš dalies gal tai ir buvo tinkama tokiai temai, nes kova už teises vis dar tęsiasi. Tikrai rekomenduoju, kažkas nenuvalkioto ir įdomesnio knygų scenoje.
Labai įdomi knyga pravėrusi langą ir leidusi pažvelgti į sekso paslaugų darbuotojų kasdienybę. Ypatingai džiaugiuosi pasirinkusi autorę, kuri glaudžiai su tuo susijusi ir įsitraukusi į įvairias asosociacijas ir veiklas. O ta kasdienybė pavaizduota visiškai nepagražinta, tiesmuka, paverčianti visas scenas labai realiomis ir tiesiog priverčianti pajausti personažų sunkumus. Istorija pasakojama iš trijų moterų perspektyvos, kurios vienaip ar kitaip susijusios su prostitucija. Nors daug veiksmo ir nėra, tekstas plaukė lengvai. Kas galiausiai šiek tiek nuvylė tai - pabaiga. Nors labai sunku įvardinti ko trūko, bet atomazga felt flat. Iš dalies gal tai ir buvo tinkama tokiai temai, nes kova už teises vis dar tęsiasi. Tikrai rekomenduoju, kažkas nenuvalkioto ir įdomesnio knygų scenoje.
April 30, 2021
Legendary, unstoppable, fantastic, groundbreaking, breathtaking.
This is the most accurate portrayal of sex work I have ever seen in fiction, with all of its messy little irregularities written with love and humour and honesty. I was completely blown away by the characters and the truth in their emotions and stories. Frankie Miren has somehow put to paper the aching beauty of finding a community in a world desperate to isolate you.
Bury me with this book.
This is the most accurate portrayal of sex work I have ever seen in fiction, with all of its messy little irregularities written with love and humour and honesty. I was completely blown away by the characters and the truth in their emotions and stories. Frankie Miren has somehow put to paper the aching beauty of finding a community in a world desperate to isolate you.
Bury me with this book.
March 13, 2024
three women, three stories. connected only by sex work.
∘₊✧─── synopsis ───✧₊∘
lory, also known as lily when meeting up with clients, is a single mother who is literally trying to escape her past. with no other way to earn money, she has to resort to sex work in order to stay afloat in a world filled with raging rents and social systems that barely help the victims.
freya, a student struggling with her mental health and some serious drug problems, sees no other way to earn money than to work as an escort, pleasing old men for money. not really wanting to do something else, she doesn't see any kind of problem with her job, as opposed to many other struggling people she meets along the way. trying to understand all the different views and stories surrounding sex work, she feels herself falling into a net of doubts and internal conflict.
and at last, paula. paula, with her seemingly happy and functioning family on the one side and carmen, a sexbot she has hidden in her study, on the other side. as a journalist who has yet to have her grand breakthrough, paula is especially interested in prostitution and the newest male invention of sexbot-brothels, actively advocating against sex work and for the safety of prostitutes. in doing so, however, she doesn't listen to the voices of the actual sex workers, blatantly ignoring their protests and convictions, drowning them out by helping with several police raids of brothels.
being set in the unknown future of London, these three women find their ways of life intersecting with each other, crossing and intertwining somewhere between brothel raids and the occupation of a church.
∘₊✧─── my opinion ───✧₊∘
this book has been on my radar for quite some time and when i got it for christmas, i was very excited to read it. the topics discussed in this book are pretty heavy, but even more so they are extremely important. sex work, police violence and everything that comes with these things. so please be aware of possible triggers!!
anyway, i like reading about topics like that, i think it's important to hear the voices and stories of as many people as possible in order to form your own opinion on different matters that are happening all around the globe. and in this case, the topic was sex work, written about by someone who was actively affected by all the laws, dangers and prejudices surrounding said job.
unfortunately, this book fell a bit flat for me personally. the writing style was just not my cup of tea and i felt like everything was all over the place. the constant time skips and changes in the lives of the three protagonists that were happening off page were confusing me too much and sadly affected this reading experience.
that being said, this does not have to be the case for you! i still think that i have gained many new insights and even more understanding for the sex work scene in its entirety, and i am glad that i did because sadly, the things that happen in this book - although marked as fictional - are already taking place in various places on earth.
∘₊✧─── rating ───✧₊∘
3 stars!!
∘₊✧─── synopsis ───✧₊∘
lory, also known as lily when meeting up with clients, is a single mother who is literally trying to escape her past. with no other way to earn money, she has to resort to sex work in order to stay afloat in a world filled with raging rents and social systems that barely help the victims.
freya, a student struggling with her mental health and some serious drug problems, sees no other way to earn money than to work as an escort, pleasing old men for money. not really wanting to do something else, she doesn't see any kind of problem with her job, as opposed to many other struggling people she meets along the way. trying to understand all the different views and stories surrounding sex work, she feels herself falling into a net of doubts and internal conflict.
and at last, paula. paula, with her seemingly happy and functioning family on the one side and carmen, a sexbot she has hidden in her study, on the other side. as a journalist who has yet to have her grand breakthrough, paula is especially interested in prostitution and the newest male invention of sexbot-brothels, actively advocating against sex work and for the safety of prostitutes. in doing so, however, she doesn't listen to the voices of the actual sex workers, blatantly ignoring their protests and convictions, drowning them out by helping with several police raids of brothels.
being set in the unknown future of London, these three women find their ways of life intersecting with each other, crossing and intertwining somewhere between brothel raids and the occupation of a church.
∘₊✧─── my opinion ───✧₊∘
this book has been on my radar for quite some time and when i got it for christmas, i was very excited to read it. the topics discussed in this book are pretty heavy, but even more so they are extremely important. sex work, police violence and everything that comes with these things. so please be aware of possible triggers!!
anyway, i like reading about topics like that, i think it's important to hear the voices and stories of as many people as possible in order to form your own opinion on different matters that are happening all around the globe. and in this case, the topic was sex work, written about by someone who was actively affected by all the laws, dangers and prejudices surrounding said job.
unfortunately, this book fell a bit flat for me personally. the writing style was just not my cup of tea and i felt like everything was all over the place. the constant time skips and changes in the lives of the three protagonists that were happening off page were confusing me too much and sadly affected this reading experience.
that being said, this does not have to be the case for you! i still think that i have gained many new insights and even more understanding for the sex work scene in its entirety, and i am glad that i did because sadly, the things that happen in this book - although marked as fictional - are already taking place in various places on earth.
∘₊✧─── rating ───✧₊∘
3 stars!!
June 12, 2021
The life of an escort is an unknown to me, other than things I've seen on television, so it was really interesting to read this book. An escorts life sounded pretty tough and unprotected, and made me think of the unfair stigma it is given.
Should prostitution be regulated and afforded proper protection? I feel like men/women should be far better protected, the environments would be safer, and it could be viewed as a legitimate job instead of something folk more often than not will turn their noses up at. They could also then be protected financially when they're unable to work, be entitled to a pension etc. I'm not even sure if it would work like that, but I like to think it would make their lives more safe and secure.
.
The first third of the book sets the scene of the three main characters, and each chapter is written from their voice.
.
The story is a little bleak, so don't be expecting an uplifting novel!
The ending felt a little flat for me. Not that I was expecting a big Hollywood ending, but nothing really happened. Maybe that's the point, that things carry on regardless, that life will always carry on no matter what crops up.
.
A well written book that feels like its voice should be heard, and the questions it poses should be asked by folk with more power than you or I.
Should prostitution be regulated and afforded proper protection? I feel like men/women should be far better protected, the environments would be safer, and it could be viewed as a legitimate job instead of something folk more often than not will turn their noses up at. They could also then be protected financially when they're unable to work, be entitled to a pension etc. I'm not even sure if it would work like that, but I like to think it would make their lives more safe and secure.
.
The first third of the book sets the scene of the three main characters, and each chapter is written from their voice.
.
The story is a little bleak, so don't be expecting an uplifting novel!
The ending felt a little flat for me. Not that I was expecting a big Hollywood ending, but nothing really happened. Maybe that's the point, that things carry on regardless, that life will always carry on no matter what crops up.
.
A well written book that feels like its voice should be heard, and the questions it poses should be asked by folk with more power than you or I.
May 14, 2021
What a gorgeous, gorgeous read. I managed to get an advanced copy and consumed it in less than a week because I couldn't put it down. It's so smart, so sharp, so well observed and so tender as well. It follows the interlocking lives of three women all connected with the sex industry in London, tracing real struggles, real fights, real experiences, all delicately told with nuance and warmth.
I'm biased, I know, because I worked in the industry for years and I was so so excited to see a book come out about women in the sex industry. I don't think I've found good fiction which isn't salacious or seedy or just straight up wrong. This book is honest, but more than that, it's believable, and it comes at a time when it's so needed. Sex workers are struggling to be heard, and desperate to be seen as more than the sum of their labour. Sex workers are mothers and girlfriends and they're bored, and they're funny, and they're in love, and they're frightened and they're people with fleshed out bodies and personalities and they deserve to be shown in that way.
I love this book so much, and I can't wait to see what Frankie Miren comes out with next.
I'm biased, I know, because I worked in the industry for years and I was so so excited to see a book come out about women in the sex industry. I don't think I've found good fiction which isn't salacious or seedy or just straight up wrong. This book is honest, but more than that, it's believable, and it comes at a time when it's so needed. Sex workers are struggling to be heard, and desperate to be seen as more than the sum of their labour. Sex workers are mothers and girlfriends and they're bored, and they're funny, and they're in love, and they're frightened and they're people with fleshed out bodies and personalities and they deserve to be shown in that way.
I love this book so much, and I can't wait to see what Frankie Miren comes out with next.
September 5, 2021
“‘Where are you rushing off to?’ he asks, and Freya hesitates for a moment. There’s a freedom in being honest. But she can’t though, can’t risk it. Not with someone she likes. The lies, she finds, come easily.” [Page 44]
Written by Frankie Miren, member of the English Collective of Prostitutes (ECP) and long-time lobbyist for full decriminalization of the sex trade, The Service is about prostitution. There are moments of surprising candour when its ghastly reality is stripped bare.
Freya, one of the three protagonists, is in Amsterdam on a double booking with Brian, when Jade, her booking partner loses it in a restaurant:
“Jade is on her feet. She grabs the back of the chair to steady herself. ‘You pay us to overcome our physical, bodily disgust for you,’ she says. She’s loud and the people at the nearest tables are gaping at them. Freya is gripping her knife and fork. She wants to put them down, but can’t seem to move her hands. Her heartbeat is in her throat and temples. She should say something, calm Jade down, diffuse the situation, but her limbs are no longer under her control.
“‘You’re delusional,’ Jade yells. Her face is gleaming, surrounded by flares of red-hot energy. ‘You entitled piece of shit.’” [Page 160]
The disgusting Brian freezes and comes out in pink blotches. Jade storms out of the restaurant wobbling on her red stilettos and shouting, “Every orgasm was fake.”
Freya is left trying to keep the peace. She wants to be paid. When she finally gets home, she ruminates on whether they actually do have a responsibility to explain the reality to punters like Brian – to tell them that she’s often on the point of tears when she has sex with them. She doesn’t think Brian is evil, but she’s sure he wouldn’t want to fuck her if he knew what she was really thinking and feeling. She quickly resorts to a pill, probably Xanax, Valium, or Pregabalin, which she orders on the Internet – and further internal struggle is abandoned.
Shortly after that, Jack, her boyfriend comes round to end it with her:
“‘The thing is, I thought I was cool with your work,’ he says. ‘I thought I was. But I’m not. The last two days, while you’ve been gone, all I could think about is that you’re off fucking some old dude who you don’t even like.’” [Page 163]
Freya replies that they both fuck other people. But, he says, that’s different – which of course it is. Having sex for money with someone you don’t fancy is different from having sex with someone because you simply want to. To deny that is to deny a fundamental human reality.
Later Jade and Freya are at a sex workers’ picnic, when Jade asks whether they’re creating monsters by propping up the egos of these entitled men: “Biting our tongues and faking orgasms and never, ever calling them the fuck out.” She says that maybe they should be the first against the wall when the revolution comes.
Freya disagrees. She thinks they’re just putting a price tag on what women do anyway and that the real problem is fucking men for free. Jade rolls her eyes and the conversation and the attempt to wrestle with these issues ends there.
Jade was referring to Julie Burchill’s 1987 essay, ‘Born Again Cows’, in which she said: “When the sex war is won prostitutes should be shot as collaborators for their terrible betrayal of all women.” Julie Burchill is a maverick, who like Germaine Greer, another hero of mine, excels at thinking outside the box – but not everything she says is meant to be taken at face value, but rather as food for thought.
What does it mean to be in prostitution when you have other options – as Freya admits she has? And as I suspect Frankie Miren might have too. And what does it mean when those voices – the women who do have other options – are the loudest voices calling for a complete free-for-all for the sex industry? Full decriminalisation, which Miren argues for, means no restrictions at all on buying and selling sex or even on profiteering from other people’s prostitution – except in the most extremely exploitative conditions (which can practically never be proven anyway). Which sounds like a free-for-all to me.
What does that mean when most women involved in prostitution are there because of a lack of options? Would a free-for-all not result in the industry expanding and more women being sucked in – with all the physical and psychological consequences of enduring sex with multitudes of men you don’t fancy, most of whom invoke involuntary disgust – as Jade so eloquently explained?
What about how prostitution affects everyone else? What does it do to other people? Marie Edmonds, who was in prostitution for many years to fund a drug addiction, says:
“Selling sex doesn’t just affect the person selling themselves. Married men get found out, destroying marriages. Neighbours must contend with these men driving round their streets at night and having women walking up and down, making a noise and leaving paraphernalia lying around for people to have to pick up in the morning. It affects everybody in the area.”
Unfortunately, the book never engages with such questions. Rather it felt like propaganda for a nihilistic world in which prostitution is considered a normal job.
Opposition to this view is presented through Paula, a journalist who campaigns against the sex trade, and Professor Miriam Harrington, founder of the Anti Sex Robot Foundation and various nameless protestors. All are over-entitled, middle-class and unlikeable and their opposition to the sex trade is presented as ignorant, interfering and lacking any depth of analysis.
I couldn’t help thinking that Miriam Harrington is a thinly disguised version of Professor Kathleen Richardson, founder of the Campaign Against Sex Robots (recently renamed as the Campaign Against Porn Robots) – except that Harrington is a ghastly and distorted caricature. Far from having been raised middle class and educated at public schools as Harrington is portrayed, Richardson grew up in a large working-class Catholic family and was the first in her family to go to university. I know her quite well and she is not only a profound feminist thinker but an unusually empathetic and kind woman. Miren made no attempt to engage with her analysis but instead made her doppelganger into a ridiculous cardboard cut-out.
Every movement has its crazies, and the movement against the sex industry in the UK is no exception. But in The Service, they are all bat shit and full of hate. Miren presents the fiction that every single so-called sex worker is united in wanting full decriminalisation and all opponents of this view are deluded over-entitled busy-bodies. But in the real world, this is simply not true.
Many women who are in the sex trade or who have managed to leave it are vehemently opposed to full decriminalisation and are the most committed members of the sex trade abolitionist movement. Many others came to the movement because they saw what happened to their friends in prostitution or the women they work with. And others come through the feminist analysis.
When the truth is manipulated like this, we must ask why? If your arguments are sound, why would you need to do this – to present your opponents as crackpots?
But perhaps the thing I found most disturbing of all is on page 10. It describes a prostitution encounter that Lori has with Dan:
“Dan grips her around the waist, tells her no thanks he’s already had a shower at home, puts the money on the side and steers her towards the bed. She slips from his embrace long enough to count the cash. They have a routine. Naked, Dan stands at the side of the bed and Lori lies on her back, her head tipped over the edge of the mattress. Once you get over what must be an innate human fear of being upside down, this is a good position for deep-throat and it’s over fast.
“Perching on the side of the bed, Lori makes a show of wiping her streaming eyes. She knows Dan enjoys this, imagining perhaps that he is unique in his ability to ruin her makeup by repeatedly triggering her gag reflex. ‘Naughty boy,’ she says. ‘You always do this to my face.’” [Page 10]
I asked Esther, who was in prostitution relatively recently and had previously talked to me about this practice, what she thought of this description. Her response was uncompromising. She said:
“This is a description which seeks to glamourise and downplay a dangerous activity, both in terms of the physical risk and the psychological consequences.
“You don’t get over an innate fear of being upside down, with gravity, the weight of your own head and the force of an 84 kg testosterone-fueled man’s entire power acting against your ability to alter your position to avoid danger to yourself.
“A man with the self-control of an elephant in musth is engaged in an act for his own enjoyment which intentionally restricts your breathing.
“I used to try bracing myself to take some of the man’s weight through my upper arms, but this was only possible because I’m tall and used a gym.
“It used to amaze me to see men of presumed intelligence trying to push my arms away so that their whole weight was against my face with my head lolling and my neck at risk of serious or fatal injury if they stumbled or lost their balance in any way.
“That innate response, like your gagging reflex, evolved for a reason. You will internalise your fear of it. It will add to your expectation of death or serious injury.
“You won’t ‘get over it.’”
So there you have it. Someone who has been there explains the reality of this perilous practice – which begs the question how long it will be before Miren and Influx Press, the publisher, have blood on their hands.
Prostitution is just an ordinary job, right? There’s no difference between waitressing and lying with your head over the side of a bed while a man vigorously thrusts his penis down your throat, right? All good feminists should work to ensure that as many women as possible have this ‘eye-watering’ experience and no option but to endure it multiple times a day to make their rent. Right? That some men might ‘accidentally’ fracture some women’s necks is irrelevant and only prudes and people who hate women would argue otherwise, surely?
Well no. Obviously that’s not what I or the many other sex trade abolitionists think. We are unequivocal that no one should be criminalised for their own prostitution. And yet Miren has her abolitionist characters welcoming brothel raids that saw vulnerable women being hauled off in their underwear by male police and Border Force personnel in riot gear and subsequently deported. This is not what we want. We do not hate ‘sex workers’. Many of us are or were them.
But we believe that women deserve better; that if women were not systematically excluded from economic equality with men – because of systemic undervaluing of women’s work and lack of recognition of the practical implications of our role in the reproduction of the human race – then few, if any, women would ever ‘choose’ this so-called work. Given the harms that the industry causes, we argue that closing it down is necessary – just as we’d like to close down the fracking industry – but that women must have viable alternatives and that is what we campaign for in the Nordic Model approach.
And we believe the sex industry short-changes men too. Being an entitled dick is not good for men’s physical or mental health. And it’s not good for society either – as is evidenced by the current epidemic of male violence against women and girls.
The Service is a clumsy and ultimately dishonest book. It places a grating and belaboured emphasis on Lori’s salt-of-the-earth qualities and how Ruby, her little girl is bright and articulate. As if this makes the dark side of prostitution that we glimpse hunky dory.
Miren abjectly fails to follow through the logic of her own evidence. And she fails to engage honestly with the arguments of her opponents and instead presents them as risible. The Service is deliberately polarising. We mustn’t forget who benefits when women are at each other’s throats. The service is to the upholding of the neoliberal patriarchal behemoth. Miren is no feminist.
Written by Frankie Miren, member of the English Collective of Prostitutes (ECP) and long-time lobbyist for full decriminalization of the sex trade, The Service is about prostitution. There are moments of surprising candour when its ghastly reality is stripped bare.
Freya, one of the three protagonists, is in Amsterdam on a double booking with Brian, when Jade, her booking partner loses it in a restaurant:
“Jade is on her feet. She grabs the back of the chair to steady herself. ‘You pay us to overcome our physical, bodily disgust for you,’ she says. She’s loud and the people at the nearest tables are gaping at them. Freya is gripping her knife and fork. She wants to put them down, but can’t seem to move her hands. Her heartbeat is in her throat and temples. She should say something, calm Jade down, diffuse the situation, but her limbs are no longer under her control.
“‘You’re delusional,’ Jade yells. Her face is gleaming, surrounded by flares of red-hot energy. ‘You entitled piece of shit.’” [Page 160]
The disgusting Brian freezes and comes out in pink blotches. Jade storms out of the restaurant wobbling on her red stilettos and shouting, “Every orgasm was fake.”
Freya is left trying to keep the peace. She wants to be paid. When she finally gets home, she ruminates on whether they actually do have a responsibility to explain the reality to punters like Brian – to tell them that she’s often on the point of tears when she has sex with them. She doesn’t think Brian is evil, but she’s sure he wouldn’t want to fuck her if he knew what she was really thinking and feeling. She quickly resorts to a pill, probably Xanax, Valium, or Pregabalin, which she orders on the Internet – and further internal struggle is abandoned.
Shortly after that, Jack, her boyfriend comes round to end it with her:
“‘The thing is, I thought I was cool with your work,’ he says. ‘I thought I was. But I’m not. The last two days, while you’ve been gone, all I could think about is that you’re off fucking some old dude who you don’t even like.’” [Page 163]
Freya replies that they both fuck other people. But, he says, that’s different – which of course it is. Having sex for money with someone you don’t fancy is different from having sex with someone because you simply want to. To deny that is to deny a fundamental human reality.
Later Jade and Freya are at a sex workers’ picnic, when Jade asks whether they’re creating monsters by propping up the egos of these entitled men: “Biting our tongues and faking orgasms and never, ever calling them the fuck out.” She says that maybe they should be the first against the wall when the revolution comes.
Freya disagrees. She thinks they’re just putting a price tag on what women do anyway and that the real problem is fucking men for free. Jade rolls her eyes and the conversation and the attempt to wrestle with these issues ends there.
Jade was referring to Julie Burchill’s 1987 essay, ‘Born Again Cows’, in which she said: “When the sex war is won prostitutes should be shot as collaborators for their terrible betrayal of all women.” Julie Burchill is a maverick, who like Germaine Greer, another hero of mine, excels at thinking outside the box – but not everything she says is meant to be taken at face value, but rather as food for thought.
What does it mean to be in prostitution when you have other options – as Freya admits she has? And as I suspect Frankie Miren might have too. And what does it mean when those voices – the women who do have other options – are the loudest voices calling for a complete free-for-all for the sex industry? Full decriminalisation, which Miren argues for, means no restrictions at all on buying and selling sex or even on profiteering from other people’s prostitution – except in the most extremely exploitative conditions (which can practically never be proven anyway). Which sounds like a free-for-all to me.
What does that mean when most women involved in prostitution are there because of a lack of options? Would a free-for-all not result in the industry expanding and more women being sucked in – with all the physical and psychological consequences of enduring sex with multitudes of men you don’t fancy, most of whom invoke involuntary disgust – as Jade so eloquently explained?
What about how prostitution affects everyone else? What does it do to other people? Marie Edmonds, who was in prostitution for many years to fund a drug addiction, says:
“Selling sex doesn’t just affect the person selling themselves. Married men get found out, destroying marriages. Neighbours must contend with these men driving round their streets at night and having women walking up and down, making a noise and leaving paraphernalia lying around for people to have to pick up in the morning. It affects everybody in the area.”
Unfortunately, the book never engages with such questions. Rather it felt like propaganda for a nihilistic world in which prostitution is considered a normal job.
Opposition to this view is presented through Paula, a journalist who campaigns against the sex trade, and Professor Miriam Harrington, founder of the Anti Sex Robot Foundation and various nameless protestors. All are over-entitled, middle-class and unlikeable and their opposition to the sex trade is presented as ignorant, interfering and lacking any depth of analysis.
I couldn’t help thinking that Miriam Harrington is a thinly disguised version of Professor Kathleen Richardson, founder of the Campaign Against Sex Robots (recently renamed as the Campaign Against Porn Robots) – except that Harrington is a ghastly and distorted caricature. Far from having been raised middle class and educated at public schools as Harrington is portrayed, Richardson grew up in a large working-class Catholic family and was the first in her family to go to university. I know her quite well and she is not only a profound feminist thinker but an unusually empathetic and kind woman. Miren made no attempt to engage with her analysis but instead made her doppelganger into a ridiculous cardboard cut-out.
Every movement has its crazies, and the movement against the sex industry in the UK is no exception. But in The Service, they are all bat shit and full of hate. Miren presents the fiction that every single so-called sex worker is united in wanting full decriminalisation and all opponents of this view are deluded over-entitled busy-bodies. But in the real world, this is simply not true.
Many women who are in the sex trade or who have managed to leave it are vehemently opposed to full decriminalisation and are the most committed members of the sex trade abolitionist movement. Many others came to the movement because they saw what happened to their friends in prostitution or the women they work with. And others come through the feminist analysis.
When the truth is manipulated like this, we must ask why? If your arguments are sound, why would you need to do this – to present your opponents as crackpots?
But perhaps the thing I found most disturbing of all is on page 10. It describes a prostitution encounter that Lori has with Dan:
“Dan grips her around the waist, tells her no thanks he’s already had a shower at home, puts the money on the side and steers her towards the bed. She slips from his embrace long enough to count the cash. They have a routine. Naked, Dan stands at the side of the bed and Lori lies on her back, her head tipped over the edge of the mattress. Once you get over what must be an innate human fear of being upside down, this is a good position for deep-throat and it’s over fast.
“Perching on the side of the bed, Lori makes a show of wiping her streaming eyes. She knows Dan enjoys this, imagining perhaps that he is unique in his ability to ruin her makeup by repeatedly triggering her gag reflex. ‘Naughty boy,’ she says. ‘You always do this to my face.’” [Page 10]
I asked Esther, who was in prostitution relatively recently and had previously talked to me about this practice, what she thought of this description. Her response was uncompromising. She said:
“This is a description which seeks to glamourise and downplay a dangerous activity, both in terms of the physical risk and the psychological consequences.
“You don’t get over an innate fear of being upside down, with gravity, the weight of your own head and the force of an 84 kg testosterone-fueled man’s entire power acting against your ability to alter your position to avoid danger to yourself.
“A man with the self-control of an elephant in musth is engaged in an act for his own enjoyment which intentionally restricts your breathing.
“I used to try bracing myself to take some of the man’s weight through my upper arms, but this was only possible because I’m tall and used a gym.
“It used to amaze me to see men of presumed intelligence trying to push my arms away so that their whole weight was against my face with my head lolling and my neck at risk of serious or fatal injury if they stumbled or lost their balance in any way.
“That innate response, like your gagging reflex, evolved for a reason. You will internalise your fear of it. It will add to your expectation of death or serious injury.
“You won’t ‘get over it.’”
So there you have it. Someone who has been there explains the reality of this perilous practice – which begs the question how long it will be before Miren and Influx Press, the publisher, have blood on their hands.
Prostitution is just an ordinary job, right? There’s no difference between waitressing and lying with your head over the side of a bed while a man vigorously thrusts his penis down your throat, right? All good feminists should work to ensure that as many women as possible have this ‘eye-watering’ experience and no option but to endure it multiple times a day to make their rent. Right? That some men might ‘accidentally’ fracture some women’s necks is irrelevant and only prudes and people who hate women would argue otherwise, surely?
Well no. Obviously that’s not what I or the many other sex trade abolitionists think. We are unequivocal that no one should be criminalised for their own prostitution. And yet Miren has her abolitionist characters welcoming brothel raids that saw vulnerable women being hauled off in their underwear by male police and Border Force personnel in riot gear and subsequently deported. This is not what we want. We do not hate ‘sex workers’. Many of us are or were them.
But we believe that women deserve better; that if women were not systematically excluded from economic equality with men – because of systemic undervaluing of women’s work and lack of recognition of the practical implications of our role in the reproduction of the human race – then few, if any, women would ever ‘choose’ this so-called work. Given the harms that the industry causes, we argue that closing it down is necessary – just as we’d like to close down the fracking industry – but that women must have viable alternatives and that is what we campaign for in the Nordic Model approach.
And we believe the sex industry short-changes men too. Being an entitled dick is not good for men’s physical or mental health. And it’s not good for society either – as is evidenced by the current epidemic of male violence against women and girls.
The Service is a clumsy and ultimately dishonest book. It places a grating and belaboured emphasis on Lori’s salt-of-the-earth qualities and how Ruby, her little girl is bright and articulate. As if this makes the dark side of prostitution that we glimpse hunky dory.
Miren abjectly fails to follow through the logic of her own evidence. And she fails to engage honestly with the arguments of her opponents and instead presents them as risible. The Service is deliberately polarising. We mustn’t forget who benefits when women are at each other’s throats. The service is to the upholding of the neoliberal patriarchal behemoth. Miren is no feminist.
Read
August 6, 2022"There will be a price to pay. A price for being a woman, a price for being a prostitute."
Read
November 5, 2022i’ve dnfed this because it’s making me feel quite uncomfortable and while i’ve made it over halfway through the book, i have 0 desire to continue on :/
might try to pick this one back up soon!
might try to pick this one back up soon!
April 19, 2021
Thank you to Jordan and Influx Press for the advanced review copy.
I really enjoyed The Service - the characters, the dive into their intersecting lives, the addressing of real-life issues that sex workers face, that Miren used her real-life experience in and out of sex work to inform this book, the exploration of problematic activism. It's a book where the characters and the story and the lessons therein will stick with you, and you'll be better for it.
Paula's character reflects a lot of well-meaning, privileged individuals that ultimately do more harm than good to the people or communities they are trying to help. Paula is a journalist and her life-long mission is to end prostitution. She believes that stronger policing, increasing the criminalization around different areas of sex work, and the removal of sex workers resources are all right moves to help women involved in sex work. Despite that she's told by sex workers none of this actually helps them, she ignores them. Despite that stronger policing and increased criminalization results in these women getting arrested (their criminal record now making it more difficult for them to get work outside of sex work), deported, defamed, separated from their children. Despite that the removal of their resources results in an inability for them to screen their clients and keep themselves safe, to set their own fair wages, to safely and regularly book work, to pay their bills. Her character highlights the need for individuals to rethink what it means to be an ally, and to truly listen to the needs of the people we aim to uplift.
There's much more to dive into and unpack here, but I'll leave it at this: The Service is insightful and challenging and deeply human, and I would certainly readily recommend it to all.
I really enjoyed The Service - the characters, the dive into their intersecting lives, the addressing of real-life issues that sex workers face, that Miren used her real-life experience in and out of sex work to inform this book, the exploration of problematic activism. It's a book where the characters and the story and the lessons therein will stick with you, and you'll be better for it.
Paula's character reflects a lot of well-meaning, privileged individuals that ultimately do more harm than good to the people or communities they are trying to help. Paula is a journalist and her life-long mission is to end prostitution. She believes that stronger policing, increasing the criminalization around different areas of sex work, and the removal of sex workers resources are all right moves to help women involved in sex work. Despite that she's told by sex workers none of this actually helps them, she ignores them. Despite that stronger policing and increased criminalization results in these women getting arrested (their criminal record now making it more difficult for them to get work outside of sex work), deported, defamed, separated from their children. Despite that the removal of their resources results in an inability for them to screen their clients and keep themselves safe, to set their own fair wages, to safely and regularly book work, to pay their bills. Her character highlights the need for individuals to rethink what it means to be an ally, and to truly listen to the needs of the people we aim to uplift.
There's much more to dive into and unpack here, but I'll leave it at this: The Service is insightful and challenging and deeply human, and I would certainly readily recommend it to all.
August 7, 2023
Knowing the author has been in and out of sex work for over 20 years made this book all the more intriguing. In a world where we tend to only receive information regarding the most horrific and terrifying aspects of the industry, we prosecute the wrong people and “throw the baby out with the bath water”. There is a whole portion of the industry that is comprised of consenting adults doing as they please. The author makes the argument that these consenting adults should be able to conduct business without the fear of police interference and violence.
Miren introduces us to 3 main characters. The first is a more or less seasoned professional who never intended to be in the business, but finds herself here as a means of escape of an abusive relationship and to provide for her young daughter. The next character is a young women new to the industry, who is not only trying to figure out her place in her new job, but life in general. The last character we are introduced to is a journalist who’s work upholds the criminalization of sex work, as well as, periphery issues including banning robotic, sex dolls.
Our obsession with the worst of humanity blinds us to the majority of people just trying to make a living and build a life for themselves and their loved ones. This is applicable to not only sex workers, but so many people in various other industries. What makes the sex industry an outlier is that other industries do not have the fear of criminalization engulfing it. Miren argues that if we treated sex work as work, those participating on both sides would be allowed the same freedom to participate as consenting adults just as they would in any other industry, and asks for support from the systems in place to protect them.
Miren introduces us to 3 main characters. The first is a more or less seasoned professional who never intended to be in the business, but finds herself here as a means of escape of an abusive relationship and to provide for her young daughter. The next character is a young women new to the industry, who is not only trying to figure out her place in her new job, but life in general. The last character we are introduced to is a journalist who’s work upholds the criminalization of sex work, as well as, periphery issues including banning robotic, sex dolls.
Our obsession with the worst of humanity blinds us to the majority of people just trying to make a living and build a life for themselves and their loved ones. This is applicable to not only sex workers, but so many people in various other industries. What makes the sex industry an outlier is that other industries do not have the fear of criminalization engulfing it. Miren argues that if we treated sex work as work, those participating on both sides would be allowed the same freedom to participate as consenting adults just as they would in any other industry, and asks for support from the systems in place to protect them.
July 18, 2021
A cutting and complex novel that doesn't give easy answers, but shows through the eyes of three protagonists that sex work is far more complicated and varied than the media tends to portray. It's gripping and hard to put down, but will also open up a lot of people's eyes about sex, solidarity, and power.
July 18, 2021
A fictionalised account of three different women involved in sex work, The Service is an absolutely incredible read. For anyone who cares about women, this is essential. It’s clever and funny and moving and so real. Decriminalise sex work now - for all the Loris that really exist in the UK.
August 11, 2021
Straight up banger. I can't tell you how much of a tangible difference it makes to the reading experience of something like sex work, when the author themselves has first hand knowledge of the world.
September 18, 2024
4.5 / 5.0 The prose is gorgeous and you'll be thinking about the insanity of being female long after the last page is finished.
The Service follows three women over the course of a momentous year for those in and affected by the sex industry. The book opens in the "post-Christmas sleet" introducing Lori, a seasoned sex worker and mum to a young girl who is haunted by her past abusive relationships; Freya, a scatty student and newbie to sex work who struggles with disassociation and derealisation; and finally Paula, a middle aged journalist living in the leafy London suburbs who has taken up the cause of "rescuing" prostituted women and protecting women in general from the rise of hyper realistic sex dolls.
Miren draws brilliantly on her experience; as a journalist, as a sex worker and possibly as someone who has intimate experience of derealisation to sculpt living and breathing main characters. Her call for decriminalisation of sex work is heard loud and clear throughout the course of the book and she paints a rosy view of activism and the power of collective action to effect change.
My favourite character was Paula, her story is handled so sensitively and without judgement and she felt like the most deeply real and nuanced character I have read in a while. I deeply felt her challenge to connect with her teenaged children, her sadness and anger in grieving her mother and the agonisingly complicated relationship she had to her memories of the sometimes abusive relationship between her parents.
The novel is astonishingly ambitious. Miren attempts to tackle so many different social themes in portraying the different reasons why women do sex work and how they feel about their clients that it would be easy to feel these elements don't get the attention they deserve. She makes good choices in focusing on the areas where her experience lies and not trying to cram in side plots that go nowhere.
The action culminates in a scene at a church occupied by sex workers who are protesting laws that have further criminalised their profession. We flash quickly between the different characters' perspectives that I think has been done to convey the chaos and confusion as other people (it's a bit unclear who and how) storm into the church but this technique fell flat for me. The action gets resolved all too quickly and feels a bit unsatisfying.
Overall, this is a very worthwhile read and the writing and characterisation is exquisite. I wish more people were talking about this book!
The Service follows three women over the course of a momentous year for those in and affected by the sex industry. The book opens in the "post-Christmas sleet" introducing Lori, a seasoned sex worker and mum to a young girl who is haunted by her past abusive relationships; Freya, a scatty student and newbie to sex work who struggles with disassociation and derealisation; and finally Paula, a middle aged journalist living in the leafy London suburbs who has taken up the cause of "rescuing" prostituted women and protecting women in general from the rise of hyper realistic sex dolls.
Miren draws brilliantly on her experience; as a journalist, as a sex worker and possibly as someone who has intimate experience of derealisation to sculpt living and breathing main characters. Her call for decriminalisation of sex work is heard loud and clear throughout the course of the book and she paints a rosy view of activism and the power of collective action to effect change.
My favourite character was Paula, her story is handled so sensitively and without judgement and she felt like the most deeply real and nuanced character I have read in a while. I deeply felt her challenge to connect with her teenaged children, her sadness and anger in grieving her mother and the agonisingly complicated relationship she had to her memories of the sometimes abusive relationship between her parents.
The novel is astonishingly ambitious. Miren attempts to tackle so many different social themes in portraying the different reasons why women do sex work and how they feel about their clients that it would be easy to feel these elements don't get the attention they deserve. She makes good choices in focusing on the areas where her experience lies and not trying to cram in side plots that go nowhere.
The action culminates in a scene at a church occupied by sex workers who are protesting laws that have further criminalised their profession. We flash quickly between the different characters' perspectives that I think has been done to convey the chaos and confusion as other people (it's a bit unclear who and how) storm into the church but this technique fell flat for me. The action gets resolved all too quickly and feels a bit unsatisfying.
Overall, this is a very worthwhile read and the writing and characterisation is exquisite. I wish more people were talking about this book!
January 17, 2024
This was a really compelling read… to see such differing views about sex work put forward through the narrations of 3 different women and all the other side characters was really interesting. The criminalisation of sex work is often a hot topic and so to read a novel which so eloquently discusses the cons of criminalisation and the realities that sex workers can face was refreshing. And then to have a character who is appalled by sex work and wishes to criminalise it, and who in her abhorrence of sex work has also become utterly obsessed with it… Paula was a really interesting character.
I personally found the sections about Freya a bit overwhelming, but I think that was the point and I liked it but I often had to take a little break after her chapters. She was mentally ill and was self medicating to quite a scary point, and I just found it a bit much at points but she was a really well written character. Jade, who was a ‘side’ character in Freya’s story was hugely intriguing and I loved reading about her.
And Lori was the main protagonist, and was an incredibly well written character, she had depth and hopes and dreams and was just trying to do her absolute best to protect her daughter. Her fear was palpable in some scenarios, but she was also really fierce and strong. The rest of the stories intertwined with hers really well.
Overall I really liked this book, and I’m excited to recommend it to others.
I personally found the sections about Freya a bit overwhelming, but I think that was the point and I liked it but I often had to take a little break after her chapters. She was mentally ill and was self medicating to quite a scary point, and I just found it a bit much at points but she was a really well written character. Jade, who was a ‘side’ character in Freya’s story was hugely intriguing and I loved reading about her.
And Lori was the main protagonist, and was an incredibly well written character, she had depth and hopes and dreams and was just trying to do her absolute best to protect her daughter. Her fear was palpable in some scenarios, but she was also really fierce and strong. The rest of the stories intertwined with hers really well.
Overall I really liked this book, and I’m excited to recommend it to others.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 4, 2022
Facile et agréable à lire mais l'intrigue et les personnages sont essentiellement un empilement de clichés. Celui qui m'a le plus gêné étant le personnage de Paula, la quinqua abolo naïve à côté de la plaque, qui montre bien la difficulté de faire un récit à la première personne quand on ne comprend pas réellement les motivations de son personnage. Cela m'amène au deuxième point qui m'a frappé, à savoir que le message politique du livre est transmis de façon pas vraiment subtile. C'est peut-être pour ça que les personnages sont aussi téléphonés, chacune servant à amener un point de vue de l'auteure : en voulant montrer la diversité des situations liées au tds, on se retrouve avec une accumulation de caractéristiques dispatchées sur les quelques personnages d'un roman, ce qui donne une impression d'artificialité. J'ai trouvé que c'était intéressant de montrer les alliances qui se font entre féministes abolitionnistes et réacs traditionnels autour de l'activisme prohibitionniste, mais globalement il y avait juste *trop* de choses dans ce livre.
October 25, 2022
This book was a very intimate journey into the discussion on sex-workers' rights. Set in London the stories of three women are intertwined that bring them all to a climax. I really enjoyed Frankie Miren's writing and was a bit caught off guard by the tidy ending. However, I am looking forward to reading Morbid Obsessions and more from her. Solid writing and perhaps this book will promote thought and conversation around human rights.
September 3, 2022
"Lori remembers standing in the middle of Soho with Grace, the wheel of summer crowds, the loom of the church. ‘Stay,’ Grace had said. ‘You’re with us.’ She’d had a feeling then that she was standing at a fork in time, and when she’d stepped back into the church the world had already felt slightly altered, as though she’d chosen a universe in which lay something wild and new, something better. For a brief moment, they’d held so much power."
July 20, 2021
Superb novel about the potential near-future of sex work in the UK by an author with great insight.
August 8, 2021
Ten stars out of Five!
August 22, 2021
Brilliant! If you have ever wondered about the lives of the everyday women who work in the sex industry, this is the book for you.
A love letter to solidarity and the transformative power of struggle.
A love letter to solidarity and the transformative power of struggle.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 112 reviews