Of course names are changed � the murder victim is now Bliss (n�e Edna Louise) Rampike. Yet the potential for disaster looms large: how can someone write a comic novel about a particularly distressing recent crime? Yet somehow Oates manages it. The novel is presented as an account by Bliss�s older, neglected, brother Skyler, written ten years after the fact. Oates uses a mixture of techniques: narratorial digressions, footnotes, deliberately �missing� material. An account of the relationship between Skyler and Heidi, another damaged celebrity offspring, is presented as a very much �written� story within the story.

Oates�s targets are clear: the lure of celebrity and its price, and the feeding frenzy of modern fame culture. In this, �My Sister, My Love� is of a piece with Oates�s earlier work, even if it unusually shaped. In particular it recalls her reimagining of Marilyn Monroe�s life �Blonde� in that fame�s price is exacted on a female body. Poor young Bliss is prodded and poked, suffers injections that make her unable to sit down comfortably, is encased in a tight costume with more than a frisson of pre-pubescent sexiness (not for nothing does Oates mention more than once �a peek of white panties� as Bliss skates). Behind all this is the monstrous figure of Bliss�s mother, who drove both her children to become the champion skater she could not herself be, and neglects Skyler when he fails to live up to the task � and continues a career in the media after Bliss�s death. In a final twist, the wages of fame exact a price on her as well, as her macho husband looks on helplessly. In its black comedy, and by being filtered through the son�s narrative voice, this novel also recalls a very early Oates novel, �Expensive People.� Oates is not everyone�s idea of a humorous writer, and she can be heavy-handed for every time she hits her target.

But this is not a cold-hearted novel: Oates does have compassion for her damaged, often deluded cast of characters. She also leaves us with some hope of healing, in a final scene that�s a little obvious but still effective. �My Sister, My Love� shows that Oates, at the age of seventy, is still firing on all cylinders: while the favourite themes are present, she has yet to repeat or parody herself.