Washingtonienne: 'Professional mattress'

Jessica Joffe reviews the blogtastic author's "novel."

A 300-page e-mail, The Washingtonienne is insufficiently hair-raising and occasionally entertaining, a plodding narrative of the " … and then … and then … " sort. It descends, predictably, into platitude: "Right now I was hardly the trash-talking bitch on wheels who wrote the blog. I was a frightened, lonely girl who was all dressed up with nowhere to go." For charm, Ms. Cutler throws in some flirty self-effacement—very plausible when you’ve made your career from turning other people’s private lives into public fodder without ever having the courage to accept the implications: "Women! I don’t know how men put up with us. Oh, that’s right: sex, otherwise what good were we?" Or: "Girls like us would never be fat cats. In this town, we were nothing but pussy." She’s right: Girls who engage passively in demeaning sex out of boredom are indeed good for little else.