"100 Strokes Of The Brush Before Bed" by Melissa P (published 2003)

I am so surprised when I hear that critics and readers alike are still shocked and taken aback when they read a novel about a young girl’s sexual experiences growing up. Granted, Melissa Paranello’s One Hundred Strokes Of The Brush Before Bed has been deemed by the author herself as pornographic literature. Even still, Paranello has added that this doesn’t make her book any less full of content or substance, as it explores themes of politics and identity, and deeply. And from my end of the line, this book seems nothing but relatable. 

The book chronicles the intense story of Melissa P., a young 14 year old girl growing up in Sicily. One Hundred Strokes Of The Brush Before Bed was originally written in Italian (U.S. copies translated by Lawrence Venuti) and was published in 2003, much to the horror of Melissa’s parents, who realized that it was indeed an autobiographical novel. Each diary entry is raw, fluid, and extremely candid. Much of the subject matter describes her sexual encounters with men, both young and old, as well as an older woman. Where in the media we see young boys crazed by their hormones at a young age into their teen years, here the tables are reversed, where this young girl’s ravenous sexual desire takes over her consciousness and controls her actions, even sometimes against her will. Note: there is no “camp” element of style here; it is very genuine. The beauty of the title comes from a ritual Melissa practices. For every chaste and abstinent girl out there, there is one who has been abused for her naïve desire; there is one who has been used for her willingness to give. In the midst of this, Melissa comes home to her parents feeling dirty, awful, and lewd and cries. She brushes her hair one-hundred times before she goes to bed to make herself feel childlike and innocent again. A small gesture, but one that ultimately reminds her to take care of herself, to love herself when no one else did or would.

This book, Melissa’s diary, describes her search for love. In one poignant moment she makes a grand reflective statement that seems to sum up the point she finds herself at in her journey:

“The days are improving. This year spring has exploded beyond measure. One day I awake and find the flowers blooming, the air warmer, as the sea gathers the sky's reflection and transforms it into an intense blue. As on every morning I take my scooter to school. The cold is still biting, but the sun holds out the promise that later the temperature will rise. Rising up from the sea are the Faraglioni, the rocks that the cyclops Polyphemus hurled at Odysseus (masquerading as "Nobody") after the Greek had blinded him. Nailed to the sea floor, they have stood there from time immemorial, and neither wars nor earthquakes nor even Etna's violent eruptions have ever caused them to sink. They rise impressively, erect over the water, and bring to mind how much mediocrity, how much sheer pettiness exists in the world. We talk, walk, eat, complete every action that human beings must complete, but, unlike the Faraglioni, we don't remain in the same place, unchanged. We degenerate, Diary, wars kill us, earthquakes debilitate us, lava engulfs us, and love betrays us. And we aren't even immortal. But is this not, perhaps, a good thing?" (p. 26-27). 

I remember when one of my colleagues at work asked me to suggest some books for the collection. I checked the catalog and found that OPPL did not yet own this title. I requested it and the next month I saw it on the shelf. It was checked out last week. I expect One Hundred Strokes Of The Brush Before Bed to have a long shelf-life (as important as, perhaps, Go Ask Alice). This is because it’s an important book in terms of cultural commentary/reflection, but it is even moreso an important book for girls. Especially fierce and misunderstood girls like Meli – her diary is saying that you are not alone. Have you ever been coerced into an orgy? Have you ever been with an older man as a minor? Read Melissa’s story. And if not, this is for girls who have had plenty of sexual experiences that have made them particularly sad because there is nothing as “bad” as fucking without love. But Melissa is strong, she keeps going, she makes it through to the end. 

One Hundred Strokes Of The Brush Before Bed asks serious questions, especially about identity. Melissa’s descent into, as has been said by journalists, the “Dante-esque” world of sexuality, makes one wonder if this makes her lose her sense of self. The story starts of with Melissa as a highly intelligent girl, a girl with posters of Gustav Klimt prints on her bedroom walls. By the end she has taken these down and has painted her room a pale blue. Is this a loss of interest in the subject matter that has consumed her life? I wouldn’t mind finding out by reading Melissa Paranello’s sequel to One Hundred Strokes titled The Scent Of Your Breath.