CarnalNation

Wetlands
By Charlotte Roche
Grove Press
$14.00, 240 pp.

It’s difficult to grasp that over a million people have read this book but that’s what it says, right on the cover. And on the inside flap, there’s a quote from the New York Times:  “A cri de coeur against the oppression of a waxed, shaved, douched, and otherwise sanitized women’s world.” Let me tell you, ladies and gentlemen, that is putting it lightly! It sure as hell ain’t ever gonna make it onto Oprah’s Book Club list. It did, however, become Amazon.com’s worldwide best-seller in March of 2008, a first for a book written in German since Amazon began keeping track.

I flew through Charlotte Roche’s Wetlands in only a few evenings. Truly voracious readers could probably finish it in a day. And it would be the perfect book for the beach—a real page-turner. But it is not for the faint of heart. Or even the mildly squeamish.

It’s no surprise that it was translated from the German; they do enjoy their toilet humor and comparatively twisted sexuality. The author is British born, raised in Germany, and has been a longtime host on Viva, Germany’s version of MTV. This is her debut novel. I hope her mom hasn’t read it. I mean, I’m not easily offended or freaked out but, whoa, this book has some seriously sick shit in it!

That said, it is refreshingly honest. Roche’s protagonist, an 18-year-old female named Helen, has found herself in the hospital, where the entire story unfolds. Heh. That alone would be enough to put off some readers; hospitals aren’t the happiest of places. What makes it so compelling is Helen’s frankness about—and enthusiasm for—every orifice and bodily function, often focusing specifically on secretions of all sorts. Published under the German title Feuchtgebiete, translated it became "wetlands" but its synonymous "moist patches" is probably more accurate. And more telling. Nothing goes unexplored, un-spelunked, or otherwise un-experienced. Helen speaks explicitly about her sexual experiences, which are vast, given her young age, with an offhandedness and somewhat clinical attitude. No gushy Teen Beat “I heart boys” here.

I’ve always enjoyed writing that takes place mostly inside someone’s head. What people are thinking is a keen interest of mine. And when they’re wildly subversive or weird, so much the better. Maybe I haven’t been getting out enough—or reading enough?—but this one tips the scales somewhere beyond subversive or weird, more like way into WTF. But many of Helen’s musings had me snarfing my seltzer. Her opinions on everything from hygiene to hookers are surprisingly sophisticated and delightfully skewed. I particularly appreciated the passage about shit vs. perfume: “Most people have just been alienated from their bodies and trained to think that anything natural stinks and anything artificial smells nice. … Women spray perfume in public toilets after they’ve taken a shit, too. They think it makes everything smell pleasant again. But I still smell the shit.” I concur! Wholeheartedly!