Queenie's a little princess of souped-up camp brought up in the high-stepping, free-loving house of her so called uncle and aunt where she is exposed at an early age to the pleasures of kept womanhood. But Queenie is just doomed to be maladjusted in the modern world, particularly after she goes to college to resolve her gender hang-up and is then forced into politicized situations she can't possibly accept ("I want a young man to be fucking me, not the world"). But by the close and after many playfully irritating little experiences, she manages to compensate for her time-lag. . . . All kinds of attention-getting remarks ("he has a small macrobiotic mouth") and show-stopping paraphernalia (her cache-nombril) put the reader at a considerable disadvantage, assuming that he's anywhere at all.