It’s 1970’s New York, and 72nd Street is a vibrant enclave of arty types, one of whom is struggling artist, Ellen, an abstract expressionist in more than one sense. Sometimes Ellen thinks all she needs is a solvent and dependable husband, but then the ‘radiance’ will arrive, a period of euphoric mania, and her alter-ego Princess Esmerelda takes over. At such times, bedecked in flamboyant outfits, she steps out amongst her people, in search of adventure. First published in 1979 and ripe for rediscovery, The Princess of 72nd Street by Elaine Kraf is a wryly astute exploration of notions of female propriety and soundness of mind.
Ellen is about to experience the seventh radiance of her life and is somewhat trepidatious. Previous radiances, whilst ecstatic and expansive experiences (featuring the odd shenanigan or topless episode), have tended to result in police arrest, psychiatric wards, and medication that stupefies and dulls.
This time is going to be different. Ellen is going to take control, make a list of things she mustn’t do, sit at her typewriter and tell her story, although this is hard when one’s toes want to get up and dance in the hallway and the elevator. It appalls her that the police are so keen on incarcerating her. After all, she never has suicidal or homicidal urges during a radiance, ‘I only have those when I am so-called sane’.
These days, Ellen would likely be diagnosed as bipolar, Kraf describes her periods of mania and depression with tenderness and brilliantly conveys her bohemian life on West 72nd Street in the ‘70’s. As Princess Esmerelda, Ellen dazzles. She visits the shops, bars, cafés and clubs of her ‘kingdom’, dispensing songs, dance, advice and affection. Her regal embrace includes ‘sweet people, the mean ones, old, young, the pushers, heroin addicts, cocaine snorters, drunks, married men, wives’.
The ‘mean ones’ feature quite strongly, often in the form of the men in Ellen’s life who take advantage of her vulnerability. It’s here that Kraf makes some acerbic points, laced with black humour. There is the lover who would prefer Ellen to refrain from laughing or singing. He prefers her meek and silent (all the better to read The Communist Manifesto out loud to her), another lover, a physician, who begs to analyse her urine as it’s the key to curing emotional distress. Then there’s the doctor she consults, a very tall gentleman, who carries a hacksaw at all times, in order to heighten unaccommodating doorways. These are some of the men who question her mental equilibrium. Others just leave bruises.
How Ellen struggles to control her urges whilst dealing with the dramas of her life makes for absorbing reading. In the back of her mind is the fearful anticipation of her radiance fading. She is afraid of ‘ordinary days’.
Bold, challenging, and often joyous, Kraf will keep you pondering her points long past the final page. This 2025 reissue is complemented by an excellent, insightful introduction by Melissa Broder.
The Princess of 72nd Street by Elaine Kraf is published by Penguin Classics, 160 pages.
