By Janet Maslin
Published: New York Times
July 20, 2010
STAR ISLAND
By Carl Hiaasen
337 pages. Alfred A. Knopf. $26.95.
It’s been four years since Carl Hiaasen’s last novel for adults, “Nature Girl.” That should have been long enough for America’s pop culture in general, and Florida’s in particular, to have yielded a shooting gallery’s worth of new targets. It’s been enough time to place the excesses of a flaming pop tart, à la Lindsay Lohan, in Mr. Hiaasen’s satirical cross hairs.
So his latest novel, out next Tuesday, is “Star Island,” about the self-destructive escapades of an over-the-hill former child star. Cheryl, née Cheryl Gail Bunterman, is famous as a singer called Cherry Pye, as in: “That’s Cherry Pye! She’s my ringtone!” She became a music star without having any discernible talent. Cherry has what her producer deems “the weakest singing voice he’d ever heard from anyone not confined to a hospice.”
Cherry inhabits a world where talent doesn’t matter. The hardest thing she will have to do in preparation for her new tour is practice moving her lips. But even this is proving too demanding, since Cherry’s drug problems keep her in tottery condition. As “Star Island” begins, two South Beach emergency medical technicians have been summoned to treat a 22-year-old babe who has ingested “an unwise mix of vodka, Red Bull, hydrocodone, birdseed and stool softener.” This is “in all respects a routine South Beach 911 call” except for one detail.
Read Maslin's full review at NYT.
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