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The After Party: A Novel, by Anton DiSclafani
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One of the Best New Books for Summer 2016 – Good Housekeeping
One of the 3 Beach Reads You Won’t Be Able to Put Down – O Magazine
“DiSclafani’s story sparkles like the jumbo diamonds her characters wear to one-up each other. Historical fiction lovers will linger over every lush detail.” —People
From the nationally bestselling author of The Yonahlossee Riding Camp for Girls comes a story of 1950s Texas socialites and the one irresistible, controversial woman at the bright, hot center of it all.
Joan Fortier is the epitome of Texas glamour and the center of the 1950s Houston social scene. Tall, blonde, beautiful, and strong, she dominates the room and the gossip columns. Every man who sees her seems to want her; every woman just wants to be her. But this is a highly ordered world of garden clubs and debutante balls. The money may flow as freely as the oil, but the freedom and power all belong to the men. What happens when a woman of indecorous appetites and desires like Joan wants more? What does it do to her best friend?
Devoted to Joan since childhood, Cece Buchanan is either her chaperone or her partner in crime, depending on whom you ask. But as Joan’s radical behavior escalates, Cece’s perspective shifts—forcing one provocative choice to appear the only one there is.
A thrilling glimpse into the sphere of the rich and beautiful at a memorable moment in history, The After Party unfurls a story of friendship as obsessive, euphoric, consuming, and complicated as any romance.
From the Hardcover edition.
- Sales Rank: #19377 in eBooks
- Published on: 2016-05-17
- Released on: 2016-05-17
- Format: Kindle eBook
- Number of items: 1
Review
“DiScafani excels at building suspense and has a gift for revealing private worlds through unexpected, telling details. . . Dramatic. . . Left me holding my breath.” —The New York Times Book Review
“DiSclafani’s story sparkles like the jumbo diamonds her characters wear to one-up each other. Historical fiction lovers will linger over every lush detail.” —People
“DiScafani excels at building suspense and has a gift for revealing private worlds through unexpected, telling details." The New York Times Book Review
“The After Party explores female desire that threatens the status quo. . . Joan, much-loved and much-criticized by Cece, emerges as a spectacularly tragic figure. The After Party reads like a postmortem of more than just two women’s lives.” —The Washington Post
“A tale of lavish balls, garden clubs, and enduring female friendship.” —O, The Oprah Magazine
“Glamorous.” —Good Housekeeping
"[The After Party] offers total immersion into gaudy, glamorous midcentury Houston. . . The story plunges us deep into a dazzling, decadent time and place— a world in which a Texas wildcatter could spend his millions to build a towering hotel and decorate it in 63 shades of green, and the city's elite would come to bask in its gaudy splendor." —The Houston Chronicle
"DiSclafani gorgeously evokes Party's mid-century setting." -- Entertainment Weekly
“This hot read goes down just as easy [as a daiquiri].” —Cosmopolitan
“Painting the landscape of Texas in exquisite detail, the acclaimed author of The Yonahlossee Riding Camp for Girls returns with a thoughtful reflection on female friendship and learning to let go of the one you love.” —Real Simple
“Two women take on the Texas social scene in the 1950s and all its attendant glamor and scandals. You’ll just have to imagine the accents for yourself.” —Boston Magazine
“A smart, thoughtful must read.” —PopSugar
“Gripping and glamorous. . . Consider it the perfect escapist read for your next poolside afternoon. (With or without a martini in hand.)” —PureWow
“[Houston] makes the perfect backdrop for the tale, which is rich with sex, lies, side-eyes and cocktail parties.” —Houstonia Magazine
“Nestled inside this gilded egg is a story about life, love and friendship.” –Houston Press
“A clear and frightening look at life for Texas socialites in the 1950s. . . as beautiful and generous as Joan is, she’s also a rebel who questions the confining rules of her socialite life.” —St. Louis Post-Dispatch
“Anton DiSclafani is such a bewitching creator of character and mood, it’s easy to follow her beckoning lead.” —Dallas Morning News
“A little Mad Men, a little Carol and a lot of steamy atmosphere.” —Tampa Bay Times
“A deft examination of the intricacies, imbalances and often confusing complications of friendships between young girls and also a compelling romp into Texas society.” —Fort Worth Star Telegram
“DiSclafani repaints sepia-toned historical periods in vivid, sultry colors.” —Departures Magazine
“DiSclafani writes the hell out of the interior lives of women and the sticky trap of their friendships, like a less self-serious Elena Ferrante. . . I enjoyed every minute of it.” —The Frisky
“The After Party is a puzzle with carefully modulated tension. . . Characterization, strong sense of place and the painful riddle of friendship form a novel that is vibrant, sensitive and suspenseful.” —Shelf Awareness
“The After Party is a literary gin and tonic, brisk, intense and delicious. Anton DiSclafani paints the landscape of 1950's Texas in glorious detail. You feel the heat, hear the rustle of the party dresses as you tumble headfirst into the complex friendship of Joan and Cece. The author takes you full gallop into the world of two women as they navigate their dreams, hide their secrets and struggle to survive in a world where their roles are inescapable. This is a novel with a heart and a secret as big as Texas.” —Adriana Trigiani, author of The Shoemaker's Wife
“In her tale of a fraught lifelong friendship, DiSclafani again investigates the power and perils of female sexuality. . . DiSclafani paints a rich portrait of a cloistered society and its damaged inhabitants in a consistently absorbing narrative. . . this talented newcomer's gifts for characterization and atmosphere are as sharp as ever.” —Kirkus
Praise for The Yonahlossee Riding Camp for Girls:
“Emotionally engaging . . . this summer’s first romantic page-turner.” Michiko Kakutani, The New York Times
“Complex and provocative.” —The Washington Post
“DiSclafani is an insanely talented writer . . . spellbinding.” —Entertainment Weekly
“Sparkling . . . DiSclafani’s transporting prose recalls that uneasy time at the brink of adulthood, and reminds us that even the most protective parents can’t keep the world at bay.” —O, The Oprah Magazine
“A captivating story of shame, blame, and family secrets.” —USA Today
“Amazing . . . A sexy, suspenseful, gorgeously written book.” —Curtis Sittenfeld, author of Prep
About the Author
Anton DiSclafani is the author of the nationally bestselling novel, The Yonahlossee Riding Camp for Girls. She was raised in northern Florida.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected proof***
Copyright © 2016 Anton DiSclafani
The Shamrock Hotel was wildcatter Glenn McCarthy's green baby. Sixty-three shades to be exact: green carpet, green chairs, green tablecloths, green curtains. Green uniforms. The hotel sat next to the Texas Medical Center, which Monroe Dunaway Ander son had founded and bequeathed nineteen million dollars to in his will. It was like that, in Houston: there was money everywhere, and some people did very good things with it, like Mr. Anderson, and some people built glamorous, foolish structures, like Mr. McCarthy. Mr. Anderson helped more people than Mr. McCarthy, certainly, but where did we have more fun?
The rest of the country was worried about the Russians, worried about the Commies in our midst, worried about the Koreans. But Houston's oil had washed its worries away. This was the place where a wealthy bachelor had bought himself a cheetah and let it live on his patio, swim in his pool; where a crazy widower flew in caviar and flavored vodka once a month for wild soirees where everyone had to speak in a Russian accent; where Silver Dollar Jim West had thrown silver coins from his chauffeur-driven limo, then pulled over to watch the crowds' mad scramble. The bathroom fixtures at the Petroleum Club were all plated in twenty-four-karat gold. There was a limited supply of gold in the world; it would not regenerate. And Houston had most of it, I was convinced.
We valeted our car and headed straight to the Shamrock's Cork Club; Louis, our Irish, gray-haired bartender, was there, and he handed me a daiquiri, Joan a gin martini, up, and Ray a gin and tonic.
"Thank you, doll," Joan said, and Ray slid a folded-up packet of money across the bar.
That night we were all in attendance: the aforementioned Darlene, dressed in a lavender dress with, I had to admit, a beautiful sweetheart neckline; Kenna, Darlene's best friend, who was very nice and very boring; and Graciela, who went by Ciela. Ciela had been a scandal when she was born, the product of her father's affair with a beautiful Mexican girl he'd met while working in the oil refineries down in Tampico. His ex-wife had been rewarded for his sin—she'd received the biggest divorce settlement in Texas history. All of this was old news, though. There had been bigger divorce settlements since then, much bigger. It was Texas: everything bigger, all the time.
Ciela's father had married the señorita, was still married to the señorita, which perhaps would have been the greater scandal, if he weren't already so powerful. We all had that in common, save me: powerful fathers. And husbands who would become powerful. And we were going to go there with them.
Darlene kissed Joan on both cheeks and then turned to me, "Long time no see, Cece," and then laughed uproariously at the repetition. She was already loaded. "You look like Leslie Lynnton herself," she said, and even though I looked nothing like Liz Taylor, aside from the dark hair, I was pleased. We'd all seen Giant at least three times, were titillated by the fact the James Dean character was based on Glenn McCarthy himself, even though we publicly hated Edna Ferber and her portrayal of Texas.
Ciela, whose hair was now so blond and coiffed she looked as Mexican as Marilyn Monroe, was on the arm of her husband, and Darlene and Kenna's husbands were across the room, smoking. My own husband was at my side; Ray was quiet, a little bit reserved, most comfortable near me. He wasn't shy, exactly, but he didn't feel the need to be the center of anything, a rarity in our crowd.
The night wasn't full of possibility for us wives, like it used to be, like it still must have been for Joan. Yet the champagne was crisp and cheerful, the men were handsome and strong, and the music buoyed our spirits. I was wearing a beautiful silver dress, strapless, cinched at the waist. (Ray made a good living at Shell but my mother had left her small fortune to me, and because of it I wore astonishing clothes. My one extravagance. My mother had always refused to touch the money, thought my father should earn more. And so it was mine, granted to me in a legacy of bitterness, in lieu of parental attention. I was determined to spend it all.) My wrist was encircled by my fourteenth-birthday present, a delicate diamond watch I only took out when I was feeling hopeful. Later tonight we might venture outside, to the Shamrock's pool, which happened to be the biggest outdoor pool in the world, built to accommodate waterskiing exhibitions. Joan loved to dive from their high board, said it felt like flying. Or maybe we'd make our way to the Emerald Room, the Shamrock's nightclub.
Most helpful customer reviews
19 of 20 people found the following review helpful.
The Pathology of a Friendship
By Susan
This book, so appropriately titled, caught me off-balance at its first page and has not let me go. Set in 1950s Houston, The After Party is the story of two girls, now young women, whose lives intertwine to the point of a creepy obsession by one character.
Joan Fortier, a classic narcissist, seems to have emerged from the womb as a beautiful, flamboyant, thoughtless rule breaker with an endless supply of her daddy's money. The narrator, Joan's best friend, is also called Joan, but the girls' first schoolteacher, insistent that multiple Joans cannot coexist in her classroom, forces the more docile girl to use her middle name, Cecilia. She is forevermore called Cece.
What terrific character development by Anton DiSclafani! These two girls as they become young women make me want to pull out my last hair for different reasons. Cece eventually lives with the Fortiers after her mother succumbs to cancer, with assistance from Joan. Cece's father lives with his mistress in St. Louis, rendering Cece technically an orphan. Joan and Cece become partners in crime as youngsters, with Joan in charge.
Cece will do anything to please Joan, the It Girl. Because of her friendship with Joan, Cece's social currency is significant as well. Let there be no mistake; Cece is also beautiful and wealthy, but in her mind, she is a stratosphere beneath Joan.
Cece will also do anything to protect Joan, most of the time from herself. Like many narcissists, Joan is a compulsive liar, and Cece eventually finds herself lying to Joan's family and, even worse, to her own husband. "Grow a spine (or a part of the male anatomy)", I seethed.
Anton DiSclafani perfectly portrays the era in which the story takes place. I had to continually remind myself that the young women were barely twenty. Wealthy girls were expected to make good marriages, bear children, become perfect hostesses, dress to the nines, keep perfect homes and be model wives. Volunteer work, Garden Club, Junior League and lunch with gal pals at proscribed eateries only; no paying jobs allowed. From my experience, this was more commonplace in the South. A glance at my Mount Holyoke directory during this period bears out my theory. By no means were Southern women intellectually inferior to their Yankee counterparts; this was a cultural divide.
I laughed when the women chain-smoked and guzzled daiquiris during their pregnancies. I distinctly remember women having a few smokes with their OB/GYNs!
I loved reading the accurate stories of Houston. Stories of the famous Shamrock Hotel abounded as I grew up. Because I am a St. Patrick's Day baby, I begged my parents to take me there for my birthday, but, unlike Joan, I did not get my way.
I thoroughly enjoyed The After Party and recommend it to everyone who enjoys a good yarn. Well-written and provocative, the book held my attention for two straight days.
16 of 18 people found the following review helpful.
The Yonahlossee Riding Camp for Girls was a favorite of mine
By Word Lover
The Yonahlossee Riding Camp for Girls was a favorite of mine, so I was eager to read Anton Disclafani’s second novel. Yonahlosee was a slow-go, but this book has even more languorous tone that reinforces the pace of upper crust Houston in the 1950s, where life revolved around the country club, Junior League, home and family and friends, and women didn’t experience today’s multi-tasking. But it also started to drive me nuts. More than two-hundred pages into the book, not that much had happened, beyond getting to know Joan Fortier, a dissatisfied, beautiful and spoiled starfish who sucks up all the oxygen in her elite, circumscribed pond, and her best friend Cece Buchanan, the book’s narrator, who is agitated when she is not living in Joan’s shadow. The two have been lifelong friends, but Cece—whose neediness borders on a sick obsession--needs Joan more than Joan needs Cece. Cece, whose given name is Joan, had to give up her name for Joan in kindergarten, to avoid duplication in the class and this didn’t faze her—all her life she has happily sought the role of Joan’s disciple.
I found neither character to be deeply interesting or relatable. Cece seems to border on a sycophantic stalker and Joan struck me as lazy, although I am aware that I am looking at their lies through the lens of 2016 urgency. The author has developed the characters to the extent that she can, given that there isn’t much there there.
Cece has a possibly autistic toddler, and this aspect of the book is tender and warm. Much of DiSlafani’s writing is sharply observant, but I cannot recommend this book with complete enthusiasm.
18 of 21 people found the following review helpful.
Well-written social critique
By Alan A. Elsner
This well-written novel, set among Houston oil-rich socialites in the 1950s, revolves around the relationship of two women both named Joan whose lives are intertwined from the age of six. One is a rebel, flamboyant, a rule-breaker with a self-destructive edge. The other is a "good girl" who always strives to fit in and fulfill expectations. If the first Joan is the sun, the second is a minor planet revolving around her.
The narrator is the second Joan, known from early in the book as Cece. A teacher, seeing them both together, decided she could not have two Joans in the class and decided that the flamboyant Joan should keep her name and the shy Joan should be known by another one based on her middle name. It's a symbolic act that symbolizes that the first Joan will always have primacy.
Cece's life is not easy though she is rich. Her father leave her mother and eventually forms another family far away. When she's a teenager, her neglectful mother is stricken by cancer. Cece, the good daughter, cares for her through her final illness -and with Joan's help, eases her passing. Now an orphan, Cece moves in withJoan's family as an unofficial adopted daughter. Joan's parents accept but do not love her. But they see her as a good influence on their own wayward daughter.
Cece eventually marries a good, steady (boring) man and has a son -- while Joan disappears and then eventually reappears, drinks to excess and sleeps around. The African-American woman who was employed to help raise Cece explains: "Joan was a fireball because she had a mother who cared about her. You wanted to please because your mother didn't notice you."
There's something maddening about both of these characters. Cece, the narrator, is truly Joan's "handmaiden," as one of the other characters observes. She is so needy, so empty without her friend, so lacking in backbone. She even endangers her marriage to chase after her irresponsible friend. Toward the end of the book, she observes that without Joan's radiance, she would have been "just another girl" and the world would have been indifferent toward her. What was the great need within her, the yawning hole in her soul, that could only be satisfied by Joan?
And Joan, so thoughtless, shallow and self-destructive, is also hard to like. When her dreadful secret is eventually revealed, it comes as a false note, inconsistent with the character, and as something of an anti-climax.
Yet I believe this book has another more important message. It examines the lives of wealthy, unfulfilled women in the 1950s and finds them empty. None of these women work. They spend their lives lounging by pools, playing cards, gossiping and drinking vast quantities of alcohol while hired helpers raise their children. Cede observes that one did not get married and have children for fun or pleasure. "You married and had children so you could be an adult, so you could have something to worry about besides yourself. But not Joan."
It is this subtle indictment of the lives of subservient women before feminism that makes this book worthwhile despite the empty characters.
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