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To Smithereens
When Rosa, a depressed and drifting twenty-something, meets Paul, a middling art critic, an off-kilter romance commences. Paul longs to be dominated by physically powerful women and convinces Rosa to fulfill one of his fantasies: that she become a wrestler. Soon, Rosa joins a women's wrestling team and embarks on a tour of the South, befriends her horny teammates and their jealous boyfriends, and learns to hold her own among a crew of seedy coaches and greedy promoters. Through wrestling, Rosa learns to articulate what kind of life she wants, and to wriggle free of Paul's attempts to possess her.
200 pages, Paperback
First published May 20, 2025
43 people are currently reading
1500 people want to read
About the author
Rosalyn Drexler
22 books23 followersRosalyn Drexler, a painter, playwright, and novelist, has been on the scene in several arts for many years. She is well known in Soho art galleries, infamous off-Broadway, and highly regarded as a fiction writer.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 62 reviews
May 20, 2013
Rosalyn D, pioneer of the “spandexual romp,” offers up a classic in the genre, alongside Manny’s favourite, Submissions of a Lady Wrestler. The heroine is a witty free-spirited street-girl sidelined into the sleazy denizen of amateur female wrestling by a dreamy arts columnist named Paul, and—as Drexler did in her youth—takes to the ring as Rosa Carlo, the Mexican Spitfire, fighting scary “bull dykes” and Sapphic freaks. The story, not lacking in street-smart fizz and erudite crackle, isn’t particularly well structured and despite strong and funny scenes, and literary-ish doodlings from the unexciting Paul, finds itself pinned to the mat and KO’ed in round four (i.e. p86 or thereabouts). Rambling comedic vignettes and throwaway dialogue, mixed with lazy or out-of-date jive-talk, fail to lift this book into the charming and outrageously clever female wrestling comedy classic it could have been. Ding and ding.
Want to read
July 21, 2025to smithereens gotta be one of the worst ways to get blown
February 1, 2026
This book is a love story the way a street fight is a dance. It opens in New York with Rosa, a young woman built like trouble and wired like a live socket, and Paul, an art critic whose desires have gone to graduate school and come back feral.
They meet through an act that would normally end with a police report or a stern lecture from society, and instead it becomes the meet cute from hell. From there, the book sets up its central engine: two people who want each other intensely, for reasons that embarrass them, thrill them, and make them feel briefly alive in a city that mostly treats intimacy as a public nuisance.
What follows is a roaming campaign of obsession. Paul narrates with a voice that is anxious, self dissecting, horny, intellectual, and constantly on the verge of collapse. Rosa moves through the book like a physical fact rather than a metaphor, young, aggressive, affectionate, careless, and impossible to domesticate.
They circle each other through apartments, cafeterias, streets, trains, and cheap interiors, arguing about art, power, sex, control, money, age, and who gets to dominate whom today.
The plot advances by collisions. Every conversation feels like a wrestling match disguised as flirting, and every flirtation feels like a philosophical argument.
Underneath the sex and the jokes, the book is busy taking apart the fantasy of possession. It keeps asking whether desire is about love or about being annihilated by someone larger, louder, and less ashamed.
It is funny in the way embarrassment is funny when it happens to someone else, and bleak in the way self knowledge always is. Nothing here aims for comfort or moral hygiene. The story keeps escalating emotional and physical intensity without tipping its hand about where it all lands. The result is a novel that feels sweaty, smart, hostile, tender, and strangely sincere.
Parts of this bizarre work absolutely lean into pulp. Cheapness is part of the aesthetic, not an accident. Drexler borrows the velocity, shock tactics, and shamelessness of exploitation fiction and then drags it into a space where it starts talking back. The sex can feel blunt, repetitive, sometimes almost mechanical, as if it wandered in from a grindhouse paperback rack. But the pacing is razor sharp, and the alternating viewpoints do real structural work.
Paul and Rosa do not just narrate differently, they inhabit different moral climates. That tension keeps the book from collapsing into either parody or confession. The writing itself is often smarter than the material it pretends to be slumming in, which is exactly the trick.
A John Waters comparison comes to mind because Drexler uses taboo as provocation, as texture, and as a given. Dark theaters, domination fantasies, wrestling bodies, queer detours, all of it is presented with a mix of fascination and mockery.
The book is not trying to arouse so much as expose how arousal works, how power sneaks into desire, how people use sex to outsource their psychological messes.
Paul intellectualizes everything until it morphs into control. Rosa employs spontaneity and physicality until it starts looking like another trap. The novel keeps asking who is exploiting whom, and it never settles on a clean answer.
That cheapness you can't help but notice is also a dare. It asks whether readers only take bodies seriously when they are dressed up in respectable prose and tasteful misery.
Desire is not progressive just because it feels liberating. Power does not disappear because both people claim to want it. Art and theory do not purify obsession, they just give it better vocabulary.
The book also toys with something that still rattles people now: that women can be physically dominant, sexually aggressive, contradictory, selfish, tender, and ridiculous without turning into symbols. Rosa is not a lesson. She is a problem. That alone keeps the book from aging into a museum piece. It still feels abrasive. It is messy, funny, mean, and oddly affectionate toward human weakness. Which is why the pulp elements do not cancel its seriousness. They are the delivery system.
They meet through an act that would normally end with a police report or a stern lecture from society, and instead it becomes the meet cute from hell. From there, the book sets up its central engine: two people who want each other intensely, for reasons that embarrass them, thrill them, and make them feel briefly alive in a city that mostly treats intimacy as a public nuisance.
What follows is a roaming campaign of obsession. Paul narrates with a voice that is anxious, self dissecting, horny, intellectual, and constantly on the verge of collapse. Rosa moves through the book like a physical fact rather than a metaphor, young, aggressive, affectionate, careless, and impossible to domesticate.
They circle each other through apartments, cafeterias, streets, trains, and cheap interiors, arguing about art, power, sex, control, money, age, and who gets to dominate whom today.
The plot advances by collisions. Every conversation feels like a wrestling match disguised as flirting, and every flirtation feels like a philosophical argument.
Underneath the sex and the jokes, the book is busy taking apart the fantasy of possession. It keeps asking whether desire is about love or about being annihilated by someone larger, louder, and less ashamed.
It is funny in the way embarrassment is funny when it happens to someone else, and bleak in the way self knowledge always is. Nothing here aims for comfort or moral hygiene. The story keeps escalating emotional and physical intensity without tipping its hand about where it all lands. The result is a novel that feels sweaty, smart, hostile, tender, and strangely sincere.
Parts of this bizarre work absolutely lean into pulp. Cheapness is part of the aesthetic, not an accident. Drexler borrows the velocity, shock tactics, and shamelessness of exploitation fiction and then drags it into a space where it starts talking back. The sex can feel blunt, repetitive, sometimes almost mechanical, as if it wandered in from a grindhouse paperback rack. But the pacing is razor sharp, and the alternating viewpoints do real structural work.
Paul and Rosa do not just narrate differently, they inhabit different moral climates. That tension keeps the book from collapsing into either parody or confession. The writing itself is often smarter than the material it pretends to be slumming in, which is exactly the trick.
A John Waters comparison comes to mind because Drexler uses taboo as provocation, as texture, and as a given. Dark theaters, domination fantasies, wrestling bodies, queer detours, all of it is presented with a mix of fascination and mockery.
The book is not trying to arouse so much as expose how arousal works, how power sneaks into desire, how people use sex to outsource their psychological messes.
Paul intellectualizes everything until it morphs into control. Rosa employs spontaneity and physicality until it starts looking like another trap. The novel keeps asking who is exploiting whom, and it never settles on a clean answer.
That cheapness you can't help but notice is also a dare. It asks whether readers only take bodies seriously when they are dressed up in respectable prose and tasteful misery.
Desire is not progressive just because it feels liberating. Power does not disappear because both people claim to want it. Art and theory do not purify obsession, they just give it better vocabulary.
The book also toys with something that still rattles people now: that women can be physically dominant, sexually aggressive, contradictory, selfish, tender, and ridiculous without turning into symbols. Rosa is not a lesson. She is a problem. That alone keeps the book from aging into a museum piece. It still feels abrasive. It is messy, funny, mean, and oddly affectionate toward human weakness. Which is why the pulp elements do not cancel its seriousness. They are the delivery system.
June 16, 2025
Funny and outlandish romance of sorts in NYC in the 70s. Definitely not like anything else getting published today. Felt a little bit like a thrown-together collage at times, mostly in the second half. Some really great sentences and dialogue, but in the end the characters and story won’t stick with me.
October 28, 2025
3.5 ⭐️— Book is weird. Goes between a man and woman, he’s a horny freak and she’s a fool. She gets into wrestling and he’s weird about it. Love the sapphic aspects ofc and love weird books but not the best writing style.
January 18, 2026
an absolutely bizarre piece of literature, i ate it up
September 13, 2025
Totally hilarious. Early on a character refers to a shit stain in his underwear as "hard-edge expressionism". Drexler's writing is just SO FUN to read and I want more of it immediately.
January 29, 2023
DNF - a third of the way in, I could not stand it anymore. Perhaps I just did not get it, but what a load of crap.
June 23, 2025
It's wild this hasn't been considered a classic since it came out in the 1970s. A perfect weird little book.
February 4, 2026
3.5
Men are gross. Rosalyn Drexler did what any artist would, she capitalized on that. At first glance her characters are gritty, unhinged and perverted. As the story unfolds you see societal norms of the 1970s take shape and merge with the outcasts and weirdos of the art world. The women depicted in this story are deeply flawed yet not quite as disgusting as the men. Disgust is a powerful emotion for an artist to elicit and if that means you walk away hating this book, great. Drexler did her job. She created art.
Men are gross. Rosalyn Drexler did what any artist would, she capitalized on that. At first glance her characters are gritty, unhinged and perverted. As the story unfolds you see societal norms of the 1970s take shape and merge with the outcasts and weirdos of the art world. The women depicted in this story are deeply flawed yet not quite as disgusting as the men. Disgust is a powerful emotion for an artist to elicit and if that means you walk away hating this book, great. Drexler did her job. She created art.
December 8, 2025
So funny and so wacky and delightful, I think maybe everyone I know should read this? Reminded me a lot of the Holly Woodlawn movie they showed at the music box earlier this year, Scarecrow in a Garden of Cucumbers— just like a long string of unhinged cartoonish encounters with huge personalities, some of which involve women professionally wrestling.
February 7, 2026
Ugh I don’t know, maybe more of a 2 1/2 but it was a fun way to spend a few hours I suppose. I did not really come to understand the characters whatsoever which is the most frustrating part, because they were interesting and weird! Loved the scene of her first match in Florida though, felt like I was in the stands….so that brings it up to the 3
September 5, 2025
Eh. Read like a Chris Krause knock off with a transatlantic accent and buying in even more to the nyc who’s who
November 29, 2025
What is fine art missing? Wrestling!
July 25, 2025
Absolutely wild ride
July 8, 2025
entertaining but not memorable
February 5, 2026
A strange little book, reminded me of a literary version of R. Crumb …and then the book mentioned R. Crumb.
The author’s bio fascinated me most. Probably intended for people already familiar with her.
The author’s bio fascinated me most. Probably intended for people already familiar with her.
June 24, 2025
We take sex too seriously now
February 8, 2026
“Dubious is the capital of what state?” Rosa asked
Izzy—“…i ate it up.” Me2Honestly?
“…Haven’t slept for six days, you can read about it in the Bible. I made a world I abominate.”
This book as a whole is about people they meet; a relationship that continues [and changes] throughout the story
….He lit a cigarette and let it burn all the way down before it fell from his hand. “Sorry, it’s too soon to discover fire”
There’s one spark that won’t grow to consume the world.
“How’s your headache?”
This book is depressed. Human. Moments [respites] of purity.peace ratherthan moments of pain.tensionclimax.
—thru a New York lense; it might be barely passable if you don’t have it predownloaded —
I haven’t read a book like this. Wasn’t prepared: I loved what it represents and currently does in my mind, but I don’t know if I can’t recommend it until I know I shouldn’t [to a fellow reader].
Definitely reminded me of art, the critics say something likethat. like visceR(e)al art like everything fires but but you just don’t know, don’t know where it’s sitting in your body and defiantly not in your mind.
Take a chance. Be grossed out. A freaks and a geek walk into a bar. One says ouch and the other says?
P.S. read the afterword! She’s an artist! AND THERES A NOTE ABOUT TYPE. shoutout GARAMOND! & Frankfurter, for Its Curves, evidently.
this is what I needed. A nearly unbelievable author’s life — if it wasn’t NYC — to push me further, and then that lovely note. We’re safe, she’s the real deal
Izzy—“…i ate it up.” Me2Honestly?
“…Haven’t slept for six days, you can read about it in the Bible. I made a world I abominate.”
This book as a whole is about people they meet; a relationship that continues [and changes] throughout the story
….He lit a cigarette and let it burn all the way down before it fell from his hand. “Sorry, it’s too soon to discover fire”
There’s one spark that won’t grow to consume the world.
“How’s your headache?”
This book is depressed. Human. Moments [respites] of purity.peace ratherthan moments of pain.tensionclimax.
—thru a New York lense; it might be barely passable if you don’t have it predownloaded —
I haven’t read a book like this. Wasn’t prepared: I loved what it represents and currently does in my mind, but I don’t know if I can’t recommend it until I know I shouldn’t [to a fellow reader].
Definitely reminded me of art, the critics say something likethat. like visceR(e)al art like everything fires but but you just don’t know, don’t know where it’s sitting in your body and defiantly not in your mind.
Take a chance. Be grossed out. A freaks and a geek walk into a bar. One says ouch and the other says?
P.S. read the afterword! She’s an artist! AND THERES A NOTE ABOUT TYPE. shoutout GARAMOND! & Frankfurter, for Its Curves, evidently.
this is what I needed. A nearly unbelievable author’s life — if it wasn’t NYC — to push me further, and then that lovely note. We’re safe, she’s the real deal
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
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November 5, 2025vivid! Shoutout Avery for sending me this to read.
some lines I liked:
"I hated that pillow. I wanted to be his only pillow, but I was full of bones and resentment." (65)
“PAUL MADE ME SO NERVOUS. Even if I was just going around the corner to get a loaf of bread he’d kiss me and hold me in his arms, act as if I was going around the world and he might never see me again. It was that New York City apprehension that anything might happen the minute you step out the door” (69)
“’Just like in Vietnam,’ I said, before I could stop myself. I didn't really want to discuss politics with them.” (72)
“And I got the idea that for one week we would eat everything red: meat, apples, tomatoes, and cherries, and drink each other's blood.” (82)
“Gilda Richman dragged me into my room, kissed me on the mouth, sat me down on the bed and started talking. She lisped, which made her sound as if a tiny Gilda Richman inside the big Gilda Richman were speaking.” (87)
“Such simple needs and yet they must be arrived at intricately.” (135)
“Confusing? Damn right. Is he telling me that he is dead? Was he telling me that he was dead? I may be the victim of overthink.” (144)
“My hands wandered smoothly across a muslin landscape; I tried to follow the paths of many closely woven threads and got lost.” (178)
some lines I liked:
"I hated that pillow. I wanted to be his only pillow, but I was full of bones and resentment." (65)
“PAUL MADE ME SO NERVOUS. Even if I was just going around the corner to get a loaf of bread he’d kiss me and hold me in his arms, act as if I was going around the world and he might never see me again. It was that New York City apprehension that anything might happen the minute you step out the door” (69)
“’Just like in Vietnam,’ I said, before I could stop myself. I didn't really want to discuss politics with them.” (72)
“And I got the idea that for one week we would eat everything red: meat, apples, tomatoes, and cherries, and drink each other's blood.” (82)
“Gilda Richman dragged me into my room, kissed me on the mouth, sat me down on the bed and started talking. She lisped, which made her sound as if a tiny Gilda Richman inside the big Gilda Richman were speaking.” (87)
“Such simple needs and yet they must be arrived at intricately.” (135)
“Confusing? Damn right. Is he telling me that he is dead? Was he telling me that he was dead? I may be the victim of overthink.” (144)
“My hands wandered smoothly across a muslin landscape; I tried to follow the paths of many closely woven threads and got lost.” (178)
July 5, 2025
Nearly every relationship, friendship, or chance meeting in this book is best described as varying degrees of problematic, but it makes for an entertaining and eye-opening read. A succession of strong female characters nicely oppose the cast of unlikable male characters. Had this been a work of fiction by a male writer it would leave a bad taste (and a star or two less in my rating) but the semi-autobiographical nature of the book adds a layer of intrigue and the female-gaze of the author gives even the more sordid scenes and passages some extra weight - especially as half the book is written from the POV of the male protagonist, Paul.
January 4, 2026
to smitherens is a re-release of an avant garde streetwise gritty funny novel. written be rosalyn drexler a key player in the art and literature movement in new york city in the 1980's, it follows the relationship between rosa rudinsky, a physically powerful single unemployed woman, and paul, a so-so art critic with quirks of his own. they meet in less than innocent circumstance in a movie theatre. this satricical escapade in the world of woman's wrestling takes off from there. the bluntly told story features everyday working people just trying to get by. it is a wild ride and a good time.
July 25, 2025
I respect this book.
Helpful to understand it is satire and written in the 60s.
Hated the first third, got into the groove of her writing, and in the end, enjoyed it.
There is no perfect story or specific plot.
But there is a theme and a message I think Rosalyn Drexler is communicating. And in some ways I found interesting.
Read for book club, and we all had so much to talk about. Definitely a great book club book; I never would have read it/finished it without that motivation.
Three stars, because I did enjoy, would like to give 2.5…. But 2 seems not enough.
Helpful to understand it is satire and written in the 60s.
Hated the first third, got into the groove of her writing, and in the end, enjoyed it.
There is no perfect story or specific plot.
But there is a theme and a message I think Rosalyn Drexler is communicating. And in some ways I found interesting.
Read for book club, and we all had so much to talk about. Definitely a great book club book; I never would have read it/finished it without that motivation.
Three stars, because I did enjoy, would like to give 2.5…. But 2 seems not enough.
September 14, 2025
"Know how the earth was formed? A big explosion. God was the first Weatherman. From the Big Bang, which blew everything to smithereens, new planets formed."
An interesting read by Rosalyn Drexler about the woman wrestler, Rosa. Not my favorite novel, but intriguing...
Drexler's history is impressive! So it is lovely to see her work span into her older age, writing this novel set in New York City in the 1970s. A different time, indeed.
An interesting read by Rosalyn Drexler about the woman wrestler, Rosa. Not my favorite novel, but intriguing...
Drexler's history is impressive! So it is lovely to see her work span into her older age, writing this novel set in New York City in the 1970s. A different time, indeed.
January 21, 2026
I don't really have much to say about this book. It's getting three stars instead of two because I think it has (and deserves) a cool factor. More people should read it, though I don't know if you'll get much out of it other than a greater understanding of the 70s art scene in New York. Not through the plot but through the vibe of the book and the fact that this is the kind of thing that was interesting to people at the time. Way more sexually explicit than I was expecting!
June 11, 2025
I enjoyed reading this book. I struggled to find a rhythm at times but there are so many gem moments and vignettes throughout that demonstrate Drexler’s wit and social perspective. It felt very fresh, despite being written in the 1970s. There is a lot to love about this book, though it did feel a bit like short stories with recurring characters as opposed to a fluid novel.
August 24, 2025
I loved this book so much - it does a very good job writing about sex and art in way that’s exciting/weird/not cringe - two very difficult things to do. And I love how the language shifts from the coarse 1970s New York speak to really vivid, more abstract language in the characters inner monologues. Thought provoking while still being kind of light and strange.
October 22, 2025
Hilarious! but surprisingly the lady wrestler stuff was the least compelling. I loved how all the men in the book claimed to love strong women and then sought to control her - and the best defence that she had against them was not to fight and battle them, but to dismiss them.
I never heard of Rosalyn Drexler before so thanks to HAGFISH for putting this out.
I never heard of Rosalyn Drexler before so thanks to HAGFISH for putting this out.
January 19, 2026
Book club book. “Trouble was, everyone I knew was a creep and every situation I got into confirmed it.” A fever dream of a book filled with mad people but even (and especially) the crazy ones among us sometimes spout genius truths. I was pretty surprised to find out at the end that it was based to some degree on the author’s real life. 3.5 stars.
September 4, 2025
[DNF at 50%] The people who blurbed it seemed to find it "weird" and "funny" but this was straight up an unpleasant reading experience. The characters are unpleasant to each other, and the prose is stilted and cringey. I should stop looking at NYT recs for books.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 62 reviews