As a work of literature, "Open Me" falls short on a number of fronts. American tourists aren't exactly the most worldly travelers, but Roxana, the novel's main character, is so naive that she badly strained my credulity. While I realize that a lot of gap-year tourists, by definition, haven't seen a lot of the world, I would expect a girl from the Chicago suburbs to be familiar with the concept of a bike lane, which, in this novel's first few pages, Roxana doesn't seem to be. While the author tries hard to establish a backstory for her, I can't say that there's all that much to Roxana, and the fact that much of "Open Me" takes place in anonymous, tightly circumscribed spaces doesn't always do much to help her character development along. Honestly, I never got the impression that our main character was all that interested in Denmark, and that doesn't say much for her inner life. The fact that at various points throughout the book Locascio gives in to her tendency to overwrite doesn't help things either.

So far, so terrible, but there is a reason to read this one, and it's the sex. While it's not a good novel, it works pretty well as a portrait of female desire and a chronicle of sexual yearning and satisfaction. Although I found a late-developing narrative thread about a character's escape from war-torn Bosnia fairly engaging, Locascio is, quite frankly, a better writer of sex scenes than of more respectable prose. When her characters get naked, she carefully threads the needle between bodice-ripping sensuality and cool matter-of-factness here. Roxana's desire comes across as achingly believable, and the sexual encounters described are both undeniably physical and emotionally liberating -- a difficult balance to strike. It's also nice that the author is smart enough to not make this one of those books were a more experienced man teaches some young ingenue about the joys of love-making. Roxana's almost completely sexually inexperienced when the book starts, but she's also honest enough with herself -- and with the reader -- to give us admirably complete picture of what turns her, how much she enjoys feeling her own sexuality mature, and how painfully she comes to need sexual contact. Seen in the best possible light, "Open Me" is a story of a young woman growing into her sexual self, if sometimes painfully. It's interesting to see how much our main character's sexual identity develops when she's by herself. To give credit where it's due, it's been a while since I read a novel where a character's body seemed so completely inhabited as Roxana's does here.

Of course, I think that the author might be trying to make an argument that the kind of functional, well-regulated society that Denmark is described as isn't really enough to sate our more profound needs. As another reviewer mentioned, this political angle isn't done all that well, and it's not that much fun to watch Roxana hang out in nice, clean apartments furnished with fashionably minimalist furniture, even if the sex scenes that sometimes take place are written with real inventiveness and verve. "Open Me" isn't a completely unsuccessful exercise, but the good bits -- and what else are we going to call them? -- occur too infrequently to make this one really recommendable. ( )

This book presents a straightforward look at sexual desire and frustration. The story is about a young woman just out of high school who goes to Denmark for the summer before college. There she has an intense relationship with a lonely, depressed older man. This is 3 instead of 4 stars for me because the narrative was muddied a bit by the inclusion of issues around refugees and nationalism. It seemed a little shoe-horned into the story. ( )