What do you think?
Rate this book
Spring Fire
Her silky black hair. Her low-cut gown. Her sparkling sorority pin. It's autumn rush in the Tri Epsilon house, and the new pledge, Susan Mitchell--"Mitch" to her friends--trembles as the fastest girl on campus, the lovely Leda Taylor, crosses the room toward her for a dance. Will Leda corrupt Mitch? Or will the strong and silent Mitch draw the queen of Tri Ep into the forbidden world of Lesbian Love? Spring Fire was the first lesbian paperback novel and sold an amazing 1.5 million copies when it first appeared in 1952. It launched an entire genre of lesbian novels, as well as the writing career of Vin Packer, one of the pseudonyms of prolific author Marijane Meaker, whose acclaimed memoir, A Romance of the 1950s , told the story of her own forbidden love. Now available after forty years out of print, Spring Fire is both a vital part of lesbian history and a steamy page-turner.
170 pages, Paperback
Published May 10, 2004
14 people are currently reading
1,213 people want to read
About the author
Vin Packer
34books34followersMarijane Meaker (born May 27, 1927) is an American novelist and short story writer in several genres using different pen names. From 1952 to 1969 she wrote twenty mystery and crime novels as Vin Packer, including Spring Fire which is credited with launching the genre of lesbian pulp fiction (although few of Packer's books address homosexuality or feature gay characters). Using her own observations of lesbians in the 1950s and 1960s, she wrote a series of nonfiction books as Ann Aldrich from 1955 to 1972. In 1972 she switched genres and pen names once more to begin writing for young adults, and became quite successful as M.E. Kerr, producing over 20 novels and winning multiple awards, including the American Library Association's lifetime award for young-adult literature (Edwards Award). She was described by The New York Times Book Review as "one of the grand masters of young adult fiction." As Mary James, she has written four books for younger children.
Regardless of genre or pen name, Meaker's books have in common complex characters that have difficult relationships and complicated problems, who rail against conformity. Meaker said of this approach, "I was a bookworm and a poetry lover. When I think of myself and what I would have liked to have found in books those many years ago, I remember being depressed by all the neatly tied-up, happy-ending stories, the abundance of winners, the themes of winning, solving, finding � when around me it didn't seem that easy. So I write with a different feeling when I write for young adults. I guess I write for myself at that age."
Regardless of genre or pen name, Meaker's books have in common complex characters that have difficult relationships and complicated problems, who rail against conformity. Meaker said of this approach, "I was a bookworm and a poetry lover. When I think of myself and what I would have liked to have found in books those many years ago, I remember being depressed by all the neatly tied-up, happy-ending stories, the abundance of winners, the themes of winning, solving, finding � when around me it didn't seem that easy. So I write with a different feeling when I write for young adults. I guess I write for myself at that age."
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 85 reviews
April 30, 2021
WHOA. now that was depressing!!!
for years i've had several lesbian pulp novels languishing unread on my ereader. it was reading the lovely YA historical novel that motivated me to finally read one. i'm really interested in lgbt+ history, and i was wondering what it would really feel like to be a confused kid who stumbles upon a lesbian pulp novel and sees themselves there.
in 's author's note for last night at the telegraph club, she mentions that spring fire is considered one of the first lesbian pulp novels. lesbian author published it under a pseudonym in 1952, and many others followed in this genre.
i'm well aware of the , and that wlw couples in literature are particularly likely to be doomed to tragic endings. what i didn't realize is that this was actually a requirement of the publishers; obscenity laws necessitated that lgbt+ characters be punished.
i know this review is unnecessarily long, but here are some interesting things about spring fire (with major spoilers under tag):
� our main characters are the naive young mitch and the bold, sexually experienced leda; sorority sisters and roommates. the power imbalance between the two plays into the predatory lesbian trope, as leda corrupts mitch with her sexuality.
‣� both of our main characters come from troubled families and have parent issues (dad issues for mitch and mom issues for leda). leda also has a history of childhood sexual abuse, probably meant to be an origin of her "abnormal" sexuality.
� the attraction starts right off the bat. mitch says she's drawn to leda, as though she sees a spark of recognition between them. i found this to be super gay and romantic!! but other than that, the romance doesn't have much going for it. their relationship is toxic, as leda continues dating her boyfriend, and thewomen are largely uncommunicative with each other. part of this is because they don't have the language needed to define their relationship.
‣there are three (!!!!!) sexual assault scenes. mitch is targeted by an absolute piece of shit abuser that she goes on a date with, and finds comfort with leda afterward. i guess this is so their wlw relationship is born out of a traumatic and "perverse" situation? mitch has been hurt by a man, so she takes comfort in romantic love from a woman, which is different:
leda's relationship with her boyfriend, jake, is also toxic, and she finds solace in her safe, sapphic relationship with mitch:
the sexual assault scenes (and the majority of hetero interactions, for that matter) are really hard to read. as is the portrayal of casual rape culture that's perpetuated by many of the characters (both men and women).
� bisexuality is actually addressed!! sort of. mitch struggles with leda continuing to date jake while the two women are together. leda's response is to say that men come first, because "Sure, I've got bisexual tendencies, but by God, I'm no damn Lesbian." leda urges mitch to "Get to know men too," because being a lesbian is more dangerous than bisexuality:
i found this super interesting, because i don't know much about the history of bisexuality. i didn'teven realize the term had entered thelexicon by 1952 (though it's certainly not used here as we would use it today). later, leda denounces bisexuality and says that she's trying to prove something to herself by being with jake, sooo it's still biphobic!!
� there's a heartbreaking scene where mitch looks up "lesbian" in the dictionary, and her mind becomes aswirl with self-hatred. she decides that she is "abnormal" to a greater degree than leda, since leda is at least able to carry out a romantic relationship with a man.
� the word "queer" is used pejoratively. a good reminder that though it's largely been reclaimed, it is still a slur with an ugly history.
� i was actually unsure of which character was going to be punished at the end (or if it was going to be both). leda is the predatory instigator, but she is bi and/or able to perform heterosexuality, unlike mitch.
spring fire is definitely a fascinating read from a historical perspective, and i might read more lesbian pulp in the future. but it's dark and depressing as hell; full of nasty stereotypes and homophobia. all to be expected. but it makes me extra grateful for how far we've come.
❤️🧡💛💚💙💜
for years i've had several lesbian pulp novels languishing unread on my ereader. it was reading the lovely YA historical novel that motivated me to finally read one. i'm really interested in lgbt+ history, and i was wondering what it would really feel like to be a confused kid who stumbles upon a lesbian pulp novel and sees themselves there.
in 's author's note for last night at the telegraph club, she mentions that spring fire is considered one of the first lesbian pulp novels. lesbian author published it under a pseudonym in 1952, and many others followed in this genre.
i'm well aware of the , and that wlw couples in literature are particularly likely to be doomed to tragic endings. what i didn't realize is that this was actually a requirement of the publishers; obscenity laws necessitated that lgbt+ characters be punished.
i know this review is unnecessarily long, but here are some interesting things about spring fire (with major spoilers under tag):
� our main characters are the naive young mitch and the bold, sexually experienced leda; sorority sisters and roommates. the power imbalance between the two plays into the predatory lesbian trope, as leda corrupts mitch with her sexuality.
‣� both of our main characters come from troubled families and have parent issues (dad issues for mitch and mom issues for leda). leda also has a history of childhood sexual abuse, probably meant to be an origin of her "abnormal" sexuality.
� the attraction starts right off the bat. mitch says she's drawn to leda, as though she sees a spark of recognition between them. i found this to be super gay and romantic!! but other than that, the romance doesn't have much going for it. their relationship is toxic, as leda continues dating her boyfriend, and thewomen are largely uncommunicative with each other. part of this is because they don't have the language needed to define their relationship.
‣there are three (!!!!!) sexual assault scenes. mitch is targeted by an absolute piece of shit abuser that she goes on a date with, and finds comfort with leda afterward. i guess this is so their wlw relationship is born out of a traumatic and "perverse" situation? mitch has been hurt by a man, so she takes comfort in romantic love from a woman, which is different:
She was wanted and she wanted, and it was not a want striped with fear and hurt. It was a fragile want to be nurtured and cared for...
leda's relationship with her boyfriend, jake, is also toxic, and she finds solace in her safe, sapphic relationship with mitch:
There was a compulsion with Jake, a compulsion to be taken and used and discarded. And with Mitch it was not like that. With Mitch it was clean. It was impossibly clean.
the sexual assault scenes (and the majority of hetero interactions, for that matter) are really hard to read. as is the portrayal of casual rape culture that's perpetuated by many of the characters (both men and women).
� bisexuality is actually addressed!! sort of. mitch struggles with leda continuing to date jake while the two women are together. leda's response is to say that men come first, because "Sure, I've got bisexual tendencies, but by God, I'm no damn Lesbian." leda urges mitch to "Get to know men too," because being a lesbian is more dangerous than bisexuality:
There are a lot of people who love both and no one gives a damn, and they just say you're oversexed and they don't care. But they start getting interested when you stick to one sex.
i found this super interesting, because i don't know much about the history of bisexuality. i didn'teven realize the term had entered thelexicon by 1952 (though it's certainly not used here as we would use it today). later, leda denounces bisexuality and says that she's trying to prove something to herself by being with jake, sooo it's still biphobic!!
� there's a heartbreaking scene where mitch looks up "lesbian" in the dictionary, and her mind becomes aswirl with self-hatred. she decides that she is "abnormal" to a greater degree than leda, since leda is at least able to carry out a romantic relationship with a man.
� the word "queer" is used pejoratively. a good reminder that though it's largely been reclaimed, it is still a slur with an ugly history.
� i was actually unsure of which character was going to be punished at the end (or if it was going to be both). leda is the predatory instigator, but she is bi and/or able to perform heterosexuality, unlike mitch.
spring fire is definitely a fascinating read from a historical perspective, and i might read more lesbian pulp in the future. but it's dark and depressing as hell; full of nasty stereotypes and homophobia. all to be expected. but it makes me extra grateful for how far we've come.
❤️🧡💛💚💙💜
March 10, 2022
A doomed lesbian love affair. My second by Vin Packer/Marijane Meaker. It was quite racy. Don't think it was intended to be an erotic novel. It is about the status of women in 1950s America and attitude towards queer folk. I really do not think the author was too comfortable with her sexuality when she wrote this. Though she is quite candid about how American men treated women. Women were expected to put up with getting molested. Men (right down to a kind doctor who makes an appearance towards the end of the novel) are always described as smelling of alcohol and cigarettes. I am not sure why it is classified as pulp fiction. Shouldn't pulp fiction be about the working class? The characters in this were regular middle class people.
October 28, 2023
Descent into Madness
Review of the Kindle eBook edition (2022) of the Gold Medal Book paperback original (1952)
Spring Fire was Marijane Meaker's (writing under the pseudonym Vin Packer) pulp paperback about a lesbian romance between sorority sisters in 1952. The repressive atmosphere of that era had Meaker's publishers require that the romance should fail and be a cause of regret afterwards.
That is in contrast to the ending of Patricia Highsmith's lesbian romance (writing as Claire Morgan) , also published in 1952, which was more optimistic. Meaker's book is more explicit about the physical romance however, with Highsmith being more restrained.
The cover of the Gold Medal Books paperback original (1952). Image sourced from .
Although my 2022 Kindle edition shares the cover design of the 2004 Cleis paperback & ebook , it does not include Marijane Meaker's then newly written introduction in which she apparently wrote that she was embarrassed about having the book republished, although it still stands as a breakthrough work for lesbian literature.
I read Spring Fire as an addendum to my recent Patricia Highsmith binge. Meaker and Highsmith were also involved in a earlier relationship about which Meaker later wrote a memoir (2003).
Trivia and Links
You can read Marijane Meaker's (1927-2022) obituary in The New York Times .
You can read further about the background to the original publication of Spring Fire at by Francis Booth, March 21, 2021.
Marijane Meaker was interviewed for the Patricia Highsmith documentary film (2022) directed by Eva Vitija. You can see several excerpts of Meaker's interview in the trailer for the film (she first says: "Pat was more dedicated than any writer I had ever met. Certainly she was very famous when I met her.").
Review of the Kindle eBook edition (2022) of the Gold Medal Book paperback original (1952)
Spring Fire was Marijane Meaker's (writing under the pseudonym Vin Packer) pulp paperback about a lesbian romance between sorority sisters in 1952. The repressive atmosphere of that era had Meaker's publishers require that the romance should fail and be a cause of regret afterwards.
That is in contrast to the ending of Patricia Highsmith's lesbian romance (writing as Claire Morgan) , also published in 1952, which was more optimistic. Meaker's book is more explicit about the physical romance however, with Highsmith being more restrained.
The cover of the Gold Medal Books paperback original (1952). Image sourced from .
Although my 2022 Kindle edition shares the cover design of the 2004 Cleis paperback & ebook , it does not include Marijane Meaker's then newly written introduction in which she apparently wrote that she was embarrassed about having the book republished, although it still stands as a breakthrough work for lesbian literature.
I read Spring Fire as an addendum to my recent Patricia Highsmith binge. Meaker and Highsmith were also involved in a earlier relationship about which Meaker later wrote a memoir (2003).
Trivia and Links
You can read Marijane Meaker's (1927-2022) obituary in The New York Times .
You can read further about the background to the original publication of Spring Fire at by Francis Booth, March 21, 2021.
Marijane Meaker was interviewed for the Patricia Highsmith documentary film (2022) directed by Eva Vitija. You can see several excerpts of Meaker's interview in the trailer for the film (she first says: "Pat was more dedicated than any writer I had ever met. Certainly she was very famous when I met her.").
December 24, 2022
Vin Packer aka Marijane Meaker died this month at 95. What a groundbreaker. I don't think I appreciated her enough or understood the taboos she was breaking or how much she meant to her readers until I read her obit in The NY Times.
Here is a gift link (no paywall) for those who would love to know more about this groundbreaking author:
Here is a gift link (no paywall) for those who would love to know more about this groundbreaking author:
February 16, 2016
In 1952 author Marijane Meaker, using the pen name Vin Packer presumably because she won the "Invent a gay male porn star name" contest, wrote what's credited as the first lesbian pulp fiction novel. That's a very specific thing to be first at, but there are a lot of books so okay. She and her publisher had to be careful: to escape censors, everyone had to end up
Meaker was unhappy with the book partly because of that ending - which she wrote so tepidly that no one could have failed to read between the lines - and partly because she was young and the book is fairly awkward. Which is partly the fault of the '50s, honestly; everyone was such dorks back then. The action is set (of course) in a sorority house full of terrible repressed young women who sing to each other a lot and dream of being "pinned" by hulking fraternity brothers. The brothers sing a lot too, wanna hear a song?
Dangerous dorks. I read this under the misapprehension that it was noir; it is not noir, but very bad things happen. And there is a femme fatale of sorts.
The story has its roots in Meaker's life, as I learned from her penetrating and self-deprecating introduction. She explored her sexuality at boarding school; It was dangerous to not conform in the 50s, and particularly dangerous to be gay. And sororities and fraternities are still extremely dangerous places.
Meaker somewhat reluctantly agreed to let Spring Fire be republished ten years ago, and I'm glad she did. It feels like an honest document: these are the feelings that gay people had to wrestle with in the '50s, and the dangers they faced. (Obviously I don't know for sure - but Meaker does, that's the point of books.) It sold 1.5 million copies when it came out, a surprise smash hit; Meaker talks about the fan mail they got from lesbians across the country who recognized their own experiences. They're all doddering old people now, and I bet they were psyched to see this back in print. I'm psyched I got to read it, too. I'm not sure I'd go so far as to say it's important, but it's interesting. I like it.
Meaker was unhappy with the book partly because of that ending - which she wrote so tepidly that no one could have failed to read between the lines - and partly because she was young and the book is fairly awkward. Which is partly the fault of the '50s, honestly; everyone was such dorks back then. The action is set (of course) in a sorority house full of terrible repressed young women who sing to each other a lot and dream of being "pinned" by hulking fraternity brothers. The brothers sing a lot too, wanna hear a song?
We are the great big, wow!See what I mean? Dorks. (All the songs, in Meaker's hands, develop a menacing tone; that's a nice trick.)
Hairy-chested men, wow!
Hairy-chested men!
Dangerous dorks. I read this under the misapprehension that it was noir; it is not noir, but very bad things happen. And there is a femme fatale of sorts.
The story has its roots in Meaker's life, as I learned from her penetrating and self-deprecating introduction. She explored her sexuality at boarding school; It was dangerous to not conform in the 50s, and particularly dangerous to be gay. And sororities and fraternities are still extremely dangerous places.
Meaker somewhat reluctantly agreed to let Spring Fire be republished ten years ago, and I'm glad she did. It feels like an honest document: these are the feelings that gay people had to wrestle with in the '50s, and the dangers they faced. (Obviously I don't know for sure - but Meaker does, that's the point of books.) It sold 1.5 million copies when it came out, a surprise smash hit; Meaker talks about the fan mail they got from lesbians across the country who recognized their own experiences. They're all doddering old people now, and I bet they were psyched to see this back in print. I'm psyched I got to read it, too. I'm not sure I'd go so far as to say it's important, but it's interesting. I like it.
August 12, 2012
Don't let the rating fool you: I think this is a great read for anyone interested in LGBTQ issues, history, and lit. It's particularly insightful when it comes to the lives of queer women in the collegiate setting, on old school sororities and fraternities, and biases and prejudices both within and without the queer community. The particularly difficult bits were the ones dealing with campus rape culture (which is at least coming to light these days, though, yeah, still a huge thing...) and the twisted perspective that held homosexuality as a disease of the mind. But no one goes into these lesbian pulp novels expecting rainbows and glittery unicorns. Can't have a happy ending--as was the rule back in the day, per the publishers.
While it's worth a read for history's sake and the writing does have moments of excellence, the plot is an absolute mess. It doubles back on itself, repeats its own points, and though the conflicts do raise in terms of tension and importance in a vague way, the whole thing falls apart instead of going anywhere in particular. That'd be all right if the character arcs... existed. Mitch and Leda both reach their apex of character development (which isn't saying much) in the middle, but thanks to editorial/publisher directive, Packer was forced to completely undo any progress they'd made.
So a difficult read, but an okay one, and interesting for sure.
While it's worth a read for history's sake and the writing does have moments of excellence, the plot is an absolute mess. It doubles back on itself, repeats its own points, and though the conflicts do raise in terms of tension and importance in a vague way, the whole thing falls apart instead of going anywhere in particular. That'd be all right if the character arcs... existed. Mitch and Leda both reach their apex of character development (which isn't saying much) in the middle, but thanks to editorial/publisher directive, Packer was forced to completely undo any progress they'd made.
So a difficult read, but an okay one, and interesting for sure.
December 26, 2020
This was a difficult read. Really interesting historically, but storywise it was frustrating, repetitive and the main characters were flat to unlikeable. It started off ok-ish, but the small amount of character development that happened in the first half of the book was non-existent in the second half of the book.
I know that the book was immensely popular when it was released, but I really wonder how queer women in the 50s
felt after reading this.
I know that the book was immensely popular when it was released, but I really wonder how queer women in the 50s
felt after reading this.
March 26, 2015
Susan "Mitch" Mitchell goes to university and, despite her gauche ways, is accepted into the snooty Tri Epsilon sorority bevcause her daddy's rich. There she rooms with campus belle Leda Taylor, who one night seduces her -- even though Leda refuses to admit she's a lesbian and stubbornly maintains a guise of bisexuality by continuing to sleep gleelessly with her ghastly frat boyfriend Jake. The two girls succeed in keeping their affair secret for some while, but when they're finally caught in flagrante Leda lies through her pretty little teeth to put all of the blame on Mitch. Luckily the wise old College Dean suspects this may not be the whole truth . . .
I became interested in Packer's work because of her pulp crime fiction, so thought I'd give this a try. Despite the horrendous cop-out at the end -- forced (and probably wisely, in that era) on Packer by her editor -- I found the lesbian-novel aspects of the book to be a bit pulpish but nonetheless quite interesting: its elements are, after all, those of many other romance novels, whatever the gender of the participants. On the other hand, I found the descriptions of sorority life in all its infantility, spitefulness and cliquishness so revolting that I almost abandoned the book on occasion; even rape is something to be glossed over if it might embarrass the sorority or harm its relationship with a powerful fraternity. (Toward the end I discovered that Packer's views on sororities were the same as mine, that she'd intended to revolt us!)
Packer manages to slip in the occasional subversive line that her editor may not have noticed. For example: "And Travis King had false teeth, which only made her more beautiful and which she talked about, often, in mixed company."
Thankfully we've moved on a bit since those days -- or, at least, most of us have -- and at least in developed countries people are generally (though to our shame far from always) able to be open about their sexuality. That said, as an item of historical interest, Spring Fire is certainly well worth reading -- and, as it's fairly short by today's standards, doing so doesn't take too long.
I became interested in Packer's work because of her pulp crime fiction, so thought I'd give this a try. Despite the horrendous cop-out at the end -- forced (and probably wisely, in that era) on Packer by her editor -- I found the lesbian-novel aspects of the book to be a bit pulpish but nonetheless quite interesting: its elements are, after all, those of many other romance novels, whatever the gender of the participants. On the other hand, I found the descriptions of sorority life in all its infantility, spitefulness and cliquishness so revolting that I almost abandoned the book on occasion; even rape is something to be glossed over if it might embarrass the sorority or harm its relationship with a powerful fraternity. (Toward the end I discovered that Packer's views on sororities were the same as mine, that she'd intended to revolt us!)
Packer manages to slip in the occasional subversive line that her editor may not have noticed. For example: "And Travis King had false teeth, which only made her more beautiful and which she talked about, often, in mixed company."
Thankfully we've moved on a bit since those days -- or, at least, most of us have -- and at least in developed countries people are generally (though to our shame far from always) able to be open about their sexuality. That said, as an item of historical interest, Spring Fire is certainly well worth reading -- and, as it's fairly short by today's standards, doing so doesn't take too long.
June 9, 2017
My comprehensive study of lesbian life in the McCarthy era must obviously include the profoundly influential and popular works of Vin Packer and Ann Bannon. I'll write here about the former's Spring Fire and the latter's Odd Girl Out together, and post my comments on the pages for both books.
The two are strikingly similar; Bannon has of course acknowledged her debt to Packer but even knowing that had not prepared me for the identical match of setting and characterization of the principals: the sorority house; the popular, beautiful, mercurial senior with anger issues; the innocent bumpkin of a pledge who happens to be her roommate, and in whom she sparks feelings the poor girl struggles to understand and yet cannot resist. Both authors were constricted by their times, by popular mores and more practically by federal obscenity laws, and at the same time encouraged by editors to skirt the lines drawn by these constraints as closely as possible.
If only they had been encouraged to write better. Some people find these books don't age well because of their terrible endings, in which young lesbians either generally either go completely insane, or are cured by psychiatry or by the love of a good, strong man. I find the weak prose far more objectionable than any of that.
To be fair, each of these was a first novel for its respective author. And dime-store pulp novels, which is what these were, were not known for their literary quality; indeed that wasn't what their audiences wanted. And yet I know for a fact that both of these authors are capable of much, much better. These books would have had a very different history had they been written with a more literary approach. But I cannot begrudge them the history they did have, which is remarkable. And I cannot begrudge the millions of readers who were touched by them, and who might never had read them if they had been written with more literary craft. They are what they are, and they are interesting in their own right for that.
The two are strikingly similar; Bannon has of course acknowledged her debt to Packer but even knowing that had not prepared me for the identical match of setting and characterization of the principals: the sorority house; the popular, beautiful, mercurial senior with anger issues; the innocent bumpkin of a pledge who happens to be her roommate, and in whom she sparks feelings the poor girl struggles to understand and yet cannot resist. Both authors were constricted by their times, by popular mores and more practically by federal obscenity laws, and at the same time encouraged by editors to skirt the lines drawn by these constraints as closely as possible.
If only they had been encouraged to write better. Some people find these books don't age well because of their terrible endings, in which young lesbians either generally either go completely insane, or are cured by psychiatry or by the love of a good, strong man. I find the weak prose far more objectionable than any of that.
To be fair, each of these was a first novel for its respective author. And dime-store pulp novels, which is what these were, were not known for their literary quality; indeed that wasn't what their audiences wanted. And yet I know for a fact that both of these authors are capable of much, much better. These books would have had a very different history had they been written with a more literary approach. But I cannot begrudge them the history they did have, which is remarkable. And I cannot begrudge the millions of readers who were touched by them, and who might never had read them if they had been written with more literary craft. They are what they are, and they are interesting in their own right for that.
October 12, 2021
This is probably the last mid century Lesbian Paperback I'm going to read (I don't think any others are available on audio). It was the first one really written, and unlike the works of Ann Bannon (which I loved), this book, like those by Valerie Taylor and Patricia Highsmith, was actually written by a Lesbian.
This book was published in 1952 and takes place right around then, as well. It takes place on a college campus, in a very very strict fraternity / sorority system, which seems to make the rules of straight society even stricter. There is a lot of sweetness, though maybe not as much as in Bannon or Highsmith. It has my mid century paperback trifecta in it:
1) Use of "lighted" instead of "lit
2) Use of "high," "stoned," or "tight" for "drunk
3) Adults drinking milk in a glass
I will say that this has a sad ending. It's pretty well known, and that was a rule set by the publisher. If a happy ending had been used, the books could have been seized by authorities as indecent!
This book was published in 1952 and takes place right around then, as well. It takes place on a college campus, in a very very strict fraternity / sorority system, which seems to make the rules of straight society even stricter. There is a lot of sweetness, though maybe not as much as in Bannon or Highsmith. It has my mid century paperback trifecta in it:
1) Use of "lighted" instead of "lit
2) Use of "high," "stoned," or "tight" for "drunk
3) Adults drinking milk in a glass
I will say that this has a sad ending. It's pretty well known, and that was a rule set by the publisher. If a happy ending had been used, the books could have been seized by authorities as indecent!
December 30, 2017
More historically significant than it is a satisfying story, though author Marijane Meaker ("Vin Packer" herself) unapologetically explains the censorship forces at work in the book's stirring introduction that was added much later: "We did what we had to do, informed by the times."
Spring Fire (not her intended title either!) does indeed make for interesting reading as Meaker deftly recreates the world of a typical 1950s co-ed college campus. The censorship-dictated ending is an obvious disappointment, but at least Patricia Highsmith's masterful The Price of Salt exists for a more satisfying story and conclusion.
Spring Fire (not her intended title either!) does indeed make for interesting reading as Meaker deftly recreates the world of a typical 1950s co-ed college campus. The censorship-dictated ending is an obvious disappointment, but at least Patricia Highsmith's masterful The Price of Salt exists for a more satisfying story and conclusion.
December 4, 2020
If you want to understand more about how toxic life was in the 50's for women, especially if you were lesbian or bisexual, then this is the book for you. Also shines a light on college campus and the fraternity/sorority systems of privilege, a truly grim read.
June 16, 2024
When I found out that an alumna of my university, a fairly famous author, had written possibly the first lesbian pulp novel, I knew I had to read it. The lesbian bits aside, this reads like a 1950s version of a teen novel, crossed with an issue of True Romance.
February 10, 2013
This was a book I originally read as an assignment for my Queer Lit class in college. This book is a milestone as the first lesbian "pulp" novel ever written. It was published in 1952, and the earmarks of the period are all over it, especially in the ending that was forced into it.
Spring Fire was published under the name Vin Packer, a pseudonym for Marijane Meaker. The story is somewhat based on an experience that she had in boarding school, where she originally wanted it set, like many of the stories we read or see in movies nowadays. However, here is where the executive meddling started. They demanded the story be moved to college, as boarding school would make the girls seem too young. Thus, it was moved to a sorority. The original title "Sorority Girl" was pre-empted in an attempt at confusion marketing, hoping that people that wanted to buy "The Fires of Spring" might buy "Spring Fire" instead.
The story is somewhat familiar to those of us who read a lot of LGBT literature. Mitch is a tomboyish girl who gets into the exclusive Tri Epsilon Sorority at a fictional university through a legacy and promises of alumni gifts. She is drawn to the beautiful, fiercely independent and wild Leda Taylor. They become roommates and Leda draws her into double-dating, which goes horribly, and leads to the sorority being blackballed.
Giving into peer pressure, Mitch agrees to go to a fraternity party, where she is raped by the fraternity president. Leda finds her in shock and calms her down by confessing her love for her. The two begin a secret, passionate relationship, despite publicly dating boys. Leda pushes how they must follow men and how they must keep themselves secret, even turning from ignoring to affectionate depending on who if anyone is present (most notably her mother.)
And again, we see where the executive meddling changed everything. Here, the writing tenor changes, like the ending was pasted on. In 1952, the ending had to be changed because the post office wouldn't send anything that made homosexuality seem "normal" "healthy" or "good." So, this happens:
Mitch tries to sleep with the boy she's dating, but he can't perform, and Mitch blames herself. She tries to leave the sorority, convinced that Leda is somehow affecting her, or infecting her, but Leda tries to seduce her again. They're caught by the sorority. Leda turns on Mitch and reads a love letter aloud, trying to convince them that Mitch attacked her.
Mitch is interrogated by the college, and guilty, Leda falls into a drunken depression. Leda crashed on the way to her interrogation, and is found calling out for Mitch in a drunken, injured, delirious state, and is sent to a hospital.
Mitch visits Leda once, leaving her former lover a sobbing mess in a complete breakdown, before heading back to the sorority, where she starts new friendships, realising she never loved Leda at all, and that Leda was mentally ill.
It's a good read for the historical view of how things have changed and how much acceptance the LGBT people have today, even if there is much yet to do.
Spring Fire was published under the name Vin Packer, a pseudonym for Marijane Meaker. The story is somewhat based on an experience that she had in boarding school, where she originally wanted it set, like many of the stories we read or see in movies nowadays. However, here is where the executive meddling started. They demanded the story be moved to college, as boarding school would make the girls seem too young. Thus, it was moved to a sorority. The original title "Sorority Girl" was pre-empted in an attempt at confusion marketing, hoping that people that wanted to buy "The Fires of Spring" might buy "Spring Fire" instead.
The story is somewhat familiar to those of us who read a lot of LGBT literature. Mitch is a tomboyish girl who gets into the exclusive Tri Epsilon Sorority at a fictional university through a legacy and promises of alumni gifts. She is drawn to the beautiful, fiercely independent and wild Leda Taylor. They become roommates and Leda draws her into double-dating, which goes horribly, and leads to the sorority being blackballed.
Giving into peer pressure, Mitch agrees to go to a fraternity party, where she is raped by the fraternity president. Leda finds her in shock and calms her down by confessing her love for her. The two begin a secret, passionate relationship, despite publicly dating boys. Leda pushes how they must follow men and how they must keep themselves secret, even turning from ignoring to affectionate depending on who if anyone is present (most notably her mother.)
And again, we see where the executive meddling changed everything. Here, the writing tenor changes, like the ending was pasted on. In 1952, the ending had to be changed because the post office wouldn't send anything that made homosexuality seem "normal" "healthy" or "good." So, this happens:
Mitch tries to sleep with the boy she's dating, but he can't perform, and Mitch blames herself. She tries to leave the sorority, convinced that Leda is somehow affecting her, or infecting her, but Leda tries to seduce her again. They're caught by the sorority. Leda turns on Mitch and reads a love letter aloud, trying to convince them that Mitch attacked her.
Mitch is interrogated by the college, and guilty, Leda falls into a drunken depression. Leda crashed on the way to her interrogation, and is found calling out for Mitch in a drunken, injured, delirious state, and is sent to a hospital.
Mitch visits Leda once, leaving her former lover a sobbing mess in a complete breakdown, before heading back to the sorority, where she starts new friendships, realising she never loved Leda at all, and that Leda was mentally ill.
It's a good read for the historical view of how things have changed and how much acceptance the LGBT people have today, even if there is much yet to do.
February 18, 2008
Good lord, what a read.
I can see how this book would have been disturbing on many levels when it was released in 1952, because it still carries quite an impact. College freshman Susan "Mitch" Mitchell falls in love with her sorority roommate, the promiscuous Leda Taylor, who uses sex to distract her from her pain. Mitch is sheltered and naive, but smart enough to know when she's being taken advantage of by a fraternity president, and astute enough to realize she's in love with Leda. For all her worldly ways, Leda can't defog herself long enough to know what she wants from her boyfriend (which is to be rid of him), or from Mitch when Leda realizes she's falling in love with her as well.
There are some passionate and frightening scenes that still carry quite a bit of power, even to a modern reader. Vin Packer did an admirable job addressing conformity and the expectations of an impossibly perfectionist society in her novel. This version has an introduction written by Packer in 2004 where she explains that she resisted re-issuing this book because she was embarrassed about the ending. Indeed, the ending is so abrupt and unexpected, and unlike the previous entirety of the book, that I liken it to the reader being almost able to see the staples and Scotch tape over where the real ending was supposed to go. However, it's important to note that Packer's editor instructed her to make the resolution unhappy or the US postal service would send the books back to the publisher.
This book will push and hurt you, but don't put it down, and don't dismiss it. It's worth your attention. If you're sharp enough, you can learn from the characters and their trials. One of the most disturbing aspects of the book may be realizing how much of Packer's world in 1952 isn't too different from ours.
I can see how this book would have been disturbing on many levels when it was released in 1952, because it still carries quite an impact. College freshman Susan "Mitch" Mitchell falls in love with her sorority roommate, the promiscuous Leda Taylor, who uses sex to distract her from her pain. Mitch is sheltered and naive, but smart enough to know when she's being taken advantage of by a fraternity president, and astute enough to realize she's in love with Leda. For all her worldly ways, Leda can't defog herself long enough to know what she wants from her boyfriend (which is to be rid of him), or from Mitch when Leda realizes she's falling in love with her as well.
There are some passionate and frightening scenes that still carry quite a bit of power, even to a modern reader. Vin Packer did an admirable job addressing conformity and the expectations of an impossibly perfectionist society in her novel. This version has an introduction written by Packer in 2004 where she explains that she resisted re-issuing this book because she was embarrassed about the ending. Indeed, the ending is so abrupt and unexpected, and unlike the previous entirety of the book, that I liken it to the reader being almost able to see the staples and Scotch tape over where the real ending was supposed to go. However, it's important to note that Packer's editor instructed her to make the resolution unhappy or the US postal service would send the books back to the publisher.
This book will push and hurt you, but don't put it down, and don't dismiss it. It's worth your attention. If you're sharp enough, you can learn from the characters and their trials. One of the most disturbing aspects of the book may be realizing how much of Packer's world in 1952 isn't too different from ours.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
November 16, 2012
Originaly published in 1951 and captioned as the first lesbian pulp. The introduction of this book by the author comes out as an apology. In it she quotes a conversation she has with her publisher about how she wants to write a story about her experiences at boarding school, he tells her she can write the book as long as it's set in college, not school, and that it's very clear in everyone's minds that Lesbian is a BAD THING, and that there is no happy endings. Despite this the book still sold 1.5 million initially, much better than the estimated 400,000. The book is quite terrifying. I think I much prefer Radclyff Hall. But I think that's because 50s sorority girls might be everything I despise most. The book describes the young (butch) girl joining the sorority, they don't think much of her looks but because her dad's a millionaire they decide to let her in anyway. She quickly falls in love with the house queen, who it turns out is also gay but hides it by sleeping with her boyfriend. There are some really horrible parts to read in here, from the required date rape the pledges go through, to the attitudes towards sex, the veiled references to sexual abuse and the breakdown of the main character. All told though the writing style is not as open or as honest as Ann Brannon. I felt sorry for the characters living in that hell and I found it quite moving. I ended up feeling very sorry for the sorority queen, or anyone stuck in that lifestyle and culture. She should have moved to Greenwich and hung out with the other lesbians and the beats.
December 30, 2022
I read this book and it ended up becoming the basis of my master's essay. I think we have to keep in mind it is dated and of it's time BUT at that time, there would've been so little queer, female representation that even Packer herself said she wrote this book so queer women could feel seen. Of course, as a queer woman myself I want books with queer joy and positive love and lovers who aren't doomed to tragedy. It does make all the difference to keep in mind that Packer was strong-armed into the tragic ending by the publisher and (I think) it was later revised.
It's not a happy story, parts are deeply uncomfortable and upsetting but I just felt so compelled to read. Maybe because I needed to be reminded how things were and how we still have far to go.
It's not a happy story, parts are deeply uncomfortable and upsetting but I just felt so compelled to read. Maybe because I needed to be reminded how things were and how we still have far to go.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 24, 2017
Spring Fire by Vin Packer (Marijane Meaker) is considered the original lesbian pulp novel. Meaker's work reveals the cultural anxiety and curiosity about lesbianism in 1950s-era United States. The story follows Susan "Mitch" Mitchell as she begins her freshman year at Cranston University and joins a sorority. She quickly becomes infatuated with the sorority queen, Leda, who likewise falls head-over-heels for Mitch. Reader beware though. Consider the historic context of the era in which it was written - this story has no happily-ever-after, fairy tale ending.
June 30, 2008
This book gives the reader an interesting glimpse into a life that was strictly forbidden at the time of publication, and the picture painted is very fascinating and controversial. It isn't particularly well-written, and there are clearly problems with the way it ends (see the author's introduction to the book for more on that), but its value as a piece of history is high.
January 2, 2023
Interesting due to when it was written. Even the author admits to clumsy writing, but it was groundbreaking at the time. Certainly not an uplifting book but worth the read if you want to understand where lesbian pulp novels got their start. Makes you thankful that society has come as far as it has.
September 13, 2018
The book was interesting I'm glad I read it. It was disturbing to think that the book had to have an unhappy story for it to be published. While your reading you have to keep in mind when it was written. Overall I did enjoy it though.
February 19, 2007
I paid .35 for it. I have a collection of pulp fiction.
June 14, 2015
As a contemporary reader this book is horrible(!!!!), but it is a fascinating snapshot of its time. The very definition of a lesbian pulp.
And that last line. Oooh boy. lol.
And that last line. Oooh boy. lol.
January 17, 2019
This was a bit of a difficult read but historically important. Torn between 3 and 4 stars on it.
May 12, 2019
this is quality entertainment
November 8, 2019
A classic lesbian book that was a success due to the first time a lesbian was represented in a book. But don't forget, at that time, it couldn't end well. Although it is very well written.
December 13, 2019
A serviceable lesbian pulp novel, greatly overshadowed by Ann Bannon's Odd Girl Out, which had the same plot but was a much better novel overall.
June 1, 2021
happy pride month <3
November 17, 2021
The prose is solid, but it doesn't really go anywhere interesting plot wise. The most interesting thing here is picking out the hoops Vin is trying to jump through to get it published.
Read
September 13, 2024Mother of lesbian pulp fiction. The ways these authors found new avenues to ridicule the rules and theories of lesbianism is my new obsession. That ending was so preposterous that there’s no doubt in my mind that lesbian readers were able to identify the real story beneath the superlative plot lines
Displaying 1 - 30 of 85 reviews
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get help and learn more about the design.