She spends her days listening to the sexual confessions of everyone in this small, artist-infested town where people are horny for farm-grown produce and gossip.
In Jen Beagin’s sexy madcap new novel Big Swiss, Greta is a forty-five-year-old transcriptionist who diligently listens to and notates sex and relationship therapy sessions conducted by a harmless but very cringe man named Om in Hudson, New York. The pages within similarly brim with mordant comedy, naked and captivating sexual heat, and strange but satisfying details at every turn. It’s an image that fits the book as snug as that milkmaid dress: amorous, humorous, ominous. Her hair fans out, and she isn’t the right side up, her head near the book’s bottom edge, her torso above. She’s on her back, on what looks like a wood floor.
Her tits spill out of a white milkmaid dress. A woman’s mouth forms an O, her tongue sticking out, not quite all the way, but definitely at attention. I know I’m not supposed to fixate on a novel’s cover, but I find myself obsessed with this one.
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