But Ms. Koah is also a tart. And a tart is a tart is a tart. They always end up baring it all. Clothes, warps, tchiki-tchiki and all. Out of spite or bent on revenge. In our case, Ms. Koah blaring out her sordid tale on the internet only makes her a modern harlot, a genuine cyberwalker if you wish. Not the victim of a control-crazed man. Her lame attempt at arousing public sympathy and recognition is therefore a humbug. It will not fly.
The only thing the public will see here is a woman on a smear campaign after being cut-off from privilege, riches and access to The Mayfair in London, the Rosa Grand in Milan or the Shangri-la. It is widely believed in this country that good women will do it and keep it under wraps and hush hush. Good women do not blabber about sex. We are not yet a civilisation of kiss and tell.
The effect of Ms. Koah’s book on the public is certainly not what she expected. Rather than being seen as the victim of male dominance and a symbol of woman dignity in the face of unjustified malicious behaviour from a trusted male companion, she is seen more and more as a spiteful wench who would not let go without a punch or two under the belt.
This scribe must confess that he did read Ms. Koah’s book with a fair measure of indifference. Sex is a mundane affair, really, and when you look at it seriously, it is very boring, especially when you read about it. And this is a very boring recollection of trifles and a clumsy attempt at storytelling. Ms. Koah in the nude is certainly a better read, particularly if you can suspend your disbelief and picture her only wearing Chanel No. 5. Pity !