As Rose and Odalie grow closer, Rose realizes that Odalie is involved is some unsavory activities having to do with bootlegging. They take down confessions and transcribe various notes. Rose and Odalie are typists at a New York police station. Set in the mid-1920s in New York during the Prohibition, the novel follows Rose (the narrator) who becomes obsessed (perhaps sexually) with another typist at work: the beautiful, charming, alluring, mysterious Odalie. What to say about this book? It's such a mind-fuck that it's hard to piece together, and I'm not certain that the story (or the ending) actually makes sense. Well, I feel like I need a cigarette and a martini. And what starts as simple fascination turns into an obsession from which she may never recover.moreģ.5 stars Well, I feel like I need a cigarette and a martini. Until Odalie joins the typing pool.Īs Rose quickly falls under the stylish, coquettish Odalie’s spell, she is lured into a sparkling underworld of speakeasies and jazz. But while she may hear about shootings, knifings, and crimes of passion, as soon as she leaves the room, she reverts to a dignified and proper lady. Criminals come before her to admit their transgressions, and, with a few strokes of the keys before her, she seals their fate. A typist for the New York City Police Department, she sits in judgment like a high priestess. But while she may hear about shootings, knifings, and crimes of passion, as soon as she leaves the room, she reverts to Confessions are Rose Baker’s job. I would never eavesdrop, but they must not have heard me come in and they kept at it, and then of course it got so it was too late for me to interrupt or cough or make my presence known in some other way, and so I just held my breath and stood there, quiet as can be.Confessions are Rose Baker’s job. Of course, at the time, I failed to accurately interpret the meaning of this exchange, but I made note of it thus: Today when I came home O and G were in the back bedroom and I heard them arguing about something. At present, I can see only one entry that makes reference to the high level of Odalie’s illicit entanglements. It is striking how little is mentioned about Odalie’s business affairs. have now reread my journal several times over. With little else to do and little ability to concentrate on the ridiculous “recreational” activities they offer here, I. We have access to very few books here-Too much fiction may overstimulate the mind, and as you know, your imagination is already altogether too excitable, they tell me. I understand only too well how it will appear to the eyes of an outsider, and I have endeavored to keep it among my private things for as long as that arrangement holds (the doctors here are not keen on privacy).
To quickly assess the difficulty of the text, read a short excerpt: What reading level is The Other Typist book?
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