Latest news with #Misty
Irish Examiner
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Examiner
Book review: Casual misogyny and classism abound in beautifully tackled tale of consent
Wendy Erskine's short story collections, Sweet Home (2018) and Dance Move (2022) have rightly drawn much praise. This novel, The Benefactors, is loosely set around the sexual assault of a young woman which immediately brought to mind the traumatic 2018 Belfast rugby rape trial where all the defendants were acquitted. However, the sexual assault is more of a connective tissue between the characters rather than the engine house for the plot. Misty Johnston, a young working-class girl is raped at a house party by three privileged 18-year-olds Rami, Chris, and Line-Up (real name Lyness) who know her to different degrees. She thinks they are her friends. She has a subscription-based account, similar to OnlyFans, called The Benefactors or Bennyz, where she charges men for access to adult content. However, she mainly talks to lonely Mike in Wyoming. This account, she fears, will potentially be held against her in the aftermath of the sexual assault, and it is one of the first things the victim-blaming mothers note when minimising the abuse of their sons. Erskine makes her point. Working-class women, even ones as endearing and in some ways as innocent as Misty, even though she sells a bit of hash to friends and writhes around on her bed for middle-aged men online, are judged. They do not fit the ideal victim in the hierarchy of victims that the legal system accepts and are therefore innately more vulnerable. We meet the boys' mothers, who are more prominent in the story than the boys themselves. Frankie, a cold and glamorous stepmother to Chris, grew up in care and worked as a high-end escort. She is now married to a tech millionaire. She adopts a Downton Abbey accent to conceal her origins. The widowed Miriam, the warmest of the mothers, whose son Rami seems the most sympathetic, and Bronagh, the hypocritical social justice warrior, who is the only character that Erskine comes close to judging and is mother to Line-Up. Casual misogyny and classism abound. Although Misty's grandmother, Nan D, is a hilarious and tough matriarch, taxi driver Boogie, Misty's stepfather, is the moral heart of the story. He tells us: 'Just getting through the day is the basic objective.' In some ways, he is the saddest character for me; he was once brilliant at art, but that part of him is entirely submerged. But maybe that's projection because he's a loving and stable father and functioning. Without any spoilers, the novel does not head where you think it will, namely, ending in a high-stakes trial, and it is fresher for that. Erskine handles the thorny issue of consent brilliantly. 'There was absolutely nothing to give me, or us, any indication that it wasn't what everyone wanted. Seriously.' 'Some young girl, round one, had sex with three guys; round two, had second thoughts.' 'They shouldn't have presumed anything about what they were doing. But no one should presume anything at any point about anybody.' 'Do I think this, durationally, was entirely nonconsensual? No. Do I think this durationally was entirely consensual? No.' She offers us diverse perspectives and even contradictions within those views. This allows for a nuanced portrayal of motivations and a subtle exploration of what truth even means, often when characters themselves are unaware of the truth. Erskine plays with form, interspersing third-person chapters with unattributed first-person vignettes. These mini talking heads snippets work. Sometimes, they illuminate the key story, but more often add depth and colour, painting the wider Belfast society that spans every social stratum. It's a stand-out debut. In some weird way, maybe it's the cacophony of voices, but Jeffrey Eugenides kept popping into my head. I'd highly recommend this vibrant, sometimes hilarious, at times bleak novel set in Belfast, featuring a rich cast of distinctly 'Erskinesque' characters.
Spectator
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Spectator
Mothers' union: The Benefactors, by Wendy Erskine, reviewed
This blistering debut novel from the acclaimed short-story writer Wendy Erskine circles around a case of sexual assault, expanding into a polyphonic story that is at once an evocative fictional oral history of contemporary Belfast, a powerful depiction of trauma and a provocative exploration of social power dynamics. Erskine teases out narrative strands through a handful of characters' viewpoints and intersperses these with vignettes written in a first-person verbatim style from a wider cast. She has carefully selected her main parts. Alongside Misty, the assaulted teenager, the focus is on the three women whose 18-year-old sons were the perpetrators. There is Frankie, who has left a childhood in care, thanks to the appeal of her laboriously maintained appearance to her tech-millionaire husband; Miriam, who suffers a complicated grief that involves stroking mannequins; and Bronagh, who relishes the glamour of her role as CEO of a children's charity, while spoiling her only child. Misty's own mother is largely absent. Raised with her half-sister by her cab-driver stepfather, Misty hopes for a career in stage and special effects make-up, but is topping up her wages from a hotel restaurant with an account on Benefactors (also known as Bennyz), an OnlyFans-style website where people pay her for content. Erskine dexterously explores her characters' flaws and conflicts, while creating comedy through dialogue, as in this typical takedown of Bronagh as she describes Misty's Bennyz profile: 'It's quite ridiculous, but she calls herself Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Obviously trying to make herself sound like some Knightsbridge-dwelling It Girl.' 'She was a 19th-century poet,' Miriam says. 'Married to Robert Browning.' 'Oh. Well, you learn something new every day.' When Erskine first introduces us to the Benefactors website, it's via Misty, emphasising the painful clash of childhood with this adult world. For near-naked poses, 'she made sure that she moved her old cuddly toy off the bed, the one with the zip where she can put her pyjamas. Because, sad to say, that would attract the wrong crowd.' Misty goes on Bennyz after the sexual assault, where one of her regulars, Mike from Wyoming, says she should tell her mother, or the police. 'She'd never heard again from Mike, after that night. She thought he might have hung around to see how it had gone with the police. But he didn't.' Erskine shows that even the least demanding clients can scarcely be considered 'benefactors' in the literal sense of 'doing good'. The website is a metonym for Erskine's exploration of societal inequality, as she considers how much goodness is attached to giving money; who benefits from supposed acts of beneficence; and, crucially, whether it's possible for Misty to tilt the balance of power in her favour, against the three rich boys who assaulted her. The Benefactors is vital reading, both for its lively energy and its political weight.
CairoScene
7 days ago
- Entertainment
- CairoScene
July 10
Shuffle | July 10 - July 23 Here are our picks of the best multi-genre releases from across the region and its diaspora. Over the last fortnight, there has been an influx of fresh jams from across the region and its diaspora, encompassing various genres and styles, from electronic and indie-rock to R&B, pop and shaabi. In this installmet of our bi-weekly cocktail playlist, 'Shuffle', we curated a hefty selection of the best new releases, featuring tracks from Nourine Abouseada, Misty, Xander Ghost and more. Egyptian experimental electronic duo Gazzzz comes through with 'O2tom', a sassy club banger that draws upon funk, garage and synthpop, while rising star Nourine Abouseada teamed up with trailblazing producer and live act Ramez Naguib on a cheeky summer bop 'Bassa Meny'. Italian-Palestinian artist TÄRA locks in with 'Offline', an anthem for high achievers and perfectionists, blending shimmering synths with smooth R&B influences and pop sensibilities. Meanwhile, Paris-based duo Acid Arab reimagines Yasmine Hamdan's 'Hon w Honak' into a dark, dub-heavy tune, and Saudi alternative pop sensation Tamtam revealed a heartfelt single, 'Make it Through'. Built on electro-pop production and expansive vocal performance, the track explores the ache of not fitting in, the hunger for purpose and the quiet courage it takes to keep powering through. Featured also on the playlist is Ma-Beyn's 'Ma3 Elsalama', Xander Ghost with a shaabi-fused track 'Amr Mostafa', and Misty with 'I Won't Stop', a dancefloor-ready tune, featuring Daddy Squad and Tymour. TRACKLIST: GAZZZZ - O2tom Lena Chamamyan, Ramez Naguib - Man Ahwa Nourine, Ramez Naguib - Bassa Meny Raneem Haitham - Bel Abyad TÄRA - Offline Yasmine Hamdan, Acid Arab - Hon w Honak (Remix) Malayka - Ansak Daddy Squad, Misty, Tymour - I Won't Stop Tiara Waheb - Ahla Fatra Aziz Maraka, Disco Beirut - Shayfa Eh Afroto - Cool Nadine El Roubi - Dream Girl Ali Arafa - Trapped Randa Shoukry - Hayaty Mestanyany Husa & Zeyada, Saqib - Bel Ax (Remix) Xander Ghost - Amr Mostafa Tamtam - Make It Through Kamikazem x Karamell - 3ady Ma-Beyn - Ma3 Elsalama
CairoScene
20-07-2025
- Entertainment
- CairoScene
Daddy Squad & Misty Team Up With Tymour for ‘I Won't Stop'
'I Won't Stop' is a bright house track from Daddy Squad, Misty and Tymour, landing just in time for summer via Love Attack Records, with a remix by Johannes Albert to follow. Jul 20, 2025 As summer reaches its peak, Daddy Squad teams up with Egyptian artists Misty and Tymour for a new house single on Love Attack Records, offering a vibrant, club-focused release built for high rotation. Titled 'I Won't Stop', the track blends Daddy Squad's signature retro-futurist sound with Tymour's soulful topline - originally co-written with Hatem El Chiati for the song 'Restless' - and Misty's sharp, dancefloor-ready production. The result is a polished, melodic house cut with plenty of groove. Now available across platforms, the single has already earned early support from names like Adam Port, DJ Harvey, Massimiliano Pagliara, Vhyce, and Hard Ton. A remix by Berlin-based Love Attack affiliate Johannes Albert is set to follow on August 15th, promising a bigger festival-ready rework to close out the season.
Time Out
15-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
I went to a rave at a sex carnival, and here's the fever dream that followed
8:03pm Dear Diary… My Friend Misty is throwing one of its signature parties at the Museum of Sex tonight—a dark, romantic soirée layered with intrigue and sensory pleasures. Very much my scene. If past Misty parties are any indication, we're in for a tantalizing treat. Tonight's affair takes place inside an erotic carnival. Misty tells me to dress the part. I'm wearing a pair of dark green Victorian bloomers. (I love saying 'bloomers.') White cufflinks, a black ruffled corset, and a pair of lacy black stockings, I think I pull it off. Leaning into the carnival theme, I paint my lips like a ventriloquist puppet, with cheekbone hearts and a pink button nose. It's Moulin Rouge-meets-Barnum & Bailey. Just need to find my riding crop, and I'm off for the night… 10:07pm We have arrived. I check in with Alan T, a legend of Miami nightlife, and search for Tam Gryn, the museum's curator. I find her smiling atop the staircase, in a pleated blue skirt with metal studs. Before we hit the dancefloor, Tam walks us through the exhibitions. First is " Modern Sex: 100 Years of Design and Decency," a journey of sexual health mirrored by American media. We marvel at douches from the 1920s. There's a paper from Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood. 'Whatever is happening in the world reflects in art, and reflects in sex culture,' Tam tells me. We look at post-World War II advertisements warning soldiers of syphilis. Men are noticeably absent from the ads, placing the safe-sex onus on women rather than the soldiers' own promiscuity. Classic. I giggle at the 'Anal Intruder Set,' sit with reverence on the topic of AIDS, and giggle again when I spot the original Sybian. We move on to the next exhibition, " Hajime Sorayama: Desire Machines." I've seen images of Sorayama's 'sexy robots' before, but nothing like this. Gold and silver cyborgs, entangled and engorged, legs spread across the canvas. Provocative is an understatement. Tam points out the octopus, a classic example of Japanese 'tentacle erotica.' The gallery is rattling with heavy bass coming from the party below. Anticipation is growing. Finally, we reach the famous robots, voluptuous steel sculptures encased in glass. They look so human, and yet, not at all. Fascinating… 10:48pm It's time to party. We hug Tam goodbye and walk through a tunnel of kaleidoscopic art—like entering a portal to another world. Suddenly, we're inside a mossy medieval castle. It smells like Big Red cinnamon gum. A few more steps and we enter the carnival. It's hot and steamy in here, just how Misty likes it. I hope I'll catch her tonight. Misty is always elusive, never in plain sight but always present. I figure she's on the dancefloor. Her two best friends are about to play: David Sinopoli, the founder of Miami's iii Points festival; and Elad Zvi, founder of Bar Lab Hospitality, otherwise known by his DJ moniker, Maccabi. We walk past the bounce house of inflatable boobs and shimmy our way into the crowd. Sinopoli and Maccabi start off hot. I mean red hot. I mean 'Red Right Hand' by Nick Cave hot. I LOVE THIS SONG!! I love this groovy remix. It's precisely the heady, genre-bending music I've come to expect from My Friend Misty. A trio of sexy vixens are dancing above. They look like pin-up girls from the 1950s, dripping in sequins, wearing pointy padded bras. I recognize Elena Lee, the beautiful dancer from Club Space. There's still no sign of Misty, but I think I see Mokibaby, her partner in crime. Maybe I'll ask her—but I'm in no rush. Sinopoli and Maccabi just dropped 'Bang Bang' by Nancy Sinatra, and so, I must dance. 11:39pm More of my friends have arrived—Caro, Juan Carlos, Eli, Jonbo. It's like a clown car, they just keep coming! We meet at the conversation pit, between the giant testicles and the skee ball game, when I see a neon 'Misty' sign out of the corner of my eye. Aha! I walk over and find Mokibaby, a.k.a. Veronica Gessa, the mastermind artist behind the My Friend Misty parties. She's hanging with Ventigoth, a local photographer whom I adore. I try not to fangirl. I fail. They're fun, hot and talented—my favorite combination. They tell me Misty just left, and so I take advantage to chat with Mokibaby. Dressed like a sultry secretary, she tells me about the essence of Misty: her love for cinema and strong female characters, her passion for pleasure and self-pampering. At each of her events, Misty is revealed through interactive vignettes. I think about the time I wandered into Misty's bedroom at Floyd, where Audrey Hepburn movies played on analog televisions. Tonight, it's custom-made playing cards inspired by divination, a nod to carnival fortune-tellers. I play my cards right and score a bottle of Misty's essential oil, handmade by Mokibaby herself. Speaking of the carnival—where on earth is Misty? Has she run away with the circus?! 'Misty is a vaudeville dancer tonight,' Mokibaby says. 'She's probably on stage with Elena performing a burlesque act.' Finally, a lead, I think to myself. Ventigoth snaps a photo. I'm off to search for my friend Misty—but not before some naughty adventure. 2:41am THIS IS SO MUCH FUN. My riding crop is a huge hit (and a great way to shepherd the crowds.) I'm loving all the carnival games, especially 'Glory Stall'. Diary, I dare not tell you how to play, just know you need to tug three times… The music is swirling like the girls riding the mechanical bull. I hear 'Smalltown Boy' and Faithless, a low-vocal edit of Madonna's 'Jump', gothic rock and heavy techno all rolled into one. There's a lady in an alligator mask. Alan T is feeding people slices of cake. Elena and the dancers are binding each other Shibari-style, in full-body leotards that somehow look sexier than anything else they've worn tonight. There's a rumor of an after-party at Jolene in downtown. I'm intrigued, but my feeble friends are weary. (To be fair, we've been here for five hours.) Actually, come to think of it, I'm hungry. Maybe we bounce. 3:32am Dear Diary… I'm writing in pajamas. Pizza rolls are in the oven. Night at the Roxbury is on TV. I feel like a teenage cliché, but truthfully, I'm content. I never did find Misty. Maybe she ran away with the circus after all. At least I got a glimpse into Misty's magical world, even if just for a night. Until next time…
