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Why I Love Bridget Jones’s Diary & A Review of the 25th Anniversary Edition
A Delightful Start
My first encounter with Bridget Jones’s Diary was the 2001 movie starring Renee Zellweger, Hugh Grant, and Colin Firth. I remember stumbling onto it on my dad’s satellite tv when I was in high school. I’d long loved epistolary novels, but especially anything diary based. (The Dear America series was an early obsession.) Even in high school, I loved New Year’s Resolutions, and the idea of reinventing and improving myself. So those two incredible opening scenes of the movie when Bridget goes to a diastrous New Year’s Day turkey curry buffet and then subsequently decides to reinvent herself with New Year’s Resolutions and a diary to keep herself accountable drew me in immediately. From that point on, rewatching the movie became a holiday season/January tradition for me.
What’s This Diary About Anyway?
For those of you who don’t know, Bridget Jones’s Diary is a romcom told through Bridget’s diary entries for one full year. She’s a woman in her early 30s living in London and working in publishing. She spends the year initially falling for her boss at work, Daniel Cleaver, and later for Mark Darcy, a human rights barrister her mother tried to set her up with. Other key plot elements include the hang outs, trials, and travails of her friends (both singletons and marrieds), her mother and father’s late in life marriage troubles, and her ongoing quest for self-improvement, including struggles with alcohol, cigarettes, instants (the lottery), and delightful asides like why it takes her 3 hours to get ready in the morning.
Discovering the Book
A few years later, I finally picked up the book, and I was blown away. How could a movie I loved so much be even better in book form?! I could scarcely believe it. The audiobook version as read by Imogen Church is my go-to when I’m having trouble sleeping or am under a lot of stress and need to just relax for a bit. Her reading of Bridget is simply perfection.
Why Do I Love Bridget So Much, Exactly?
1. how each entry starts
At the start of each diary entry are some things that Bridget tracks. What exactly she’s tracking changes throughout the book. The key items are her weight, calories consume, alcohol drunk, cigarettes smoked, and instants (lottery tickets) bought. But there are other trackings that pop in like number of smoothies consumed or number of times called 1471 (like American *69 only it tells you what number called you rather than ringing them back). I love data and statistics and tracking the mundane things in my life. The lists at the start of each entry make me laugh because they remind me of myself, and they provide a different type of insight into Bridget. I also love how she self-comments on each item, especially how she will say “v.g.” for “very good.” This is one of those pop cultureisms that has made it into my own daily life.
2. depiction of diet culture
Sometimes I hear people talking about Bridget Jones (especially those who’ve only seen the movie), and they complain specifically about Bridget’s obsession with her weight when she is, in fact, a healthy weight. To them I say, that’s the point! This book is an amazing take-down of 1990s diet culture. Bridget is a healthy weight. But she doesn’t think she is. And anytime she’s having problems, she thinks they might be magically solved if she was “no longer fat.” In fact, in diary entries when Bridget is feeling particularly down are when she is most likely to berate herself for her size.
There are two episodes in the book that really drive home the fact that this is a critique of diet culture. The first is that Bridget does get down to her goal weight. She goes to a party with her friends and is ecstatic for them to see her. But they express concern. They don’t think she looks well. Her friend Tom tells her she looked better before. She has a bit of a breakthrough and wonders if her calorie counting is unhealthy and stops tracking them for a while. But then something stressful happens and she begins again. The second episode is when the same friend Tom wonders about how many calories are in something, and Bridget recites the precise number off to him. He’s shocked she knows this then proceeds to quiz her on the number of calories in various things, all of which she knows off the top of her head. She asks doesn’t everyone know this? To which Tom emphatically tells her know. Bridget briefly wonders what other information she could have stored in her head if it wasn’t so busy with calories. Amazing! Just because Bridget never breaks free of her disordered eating doesn’t mean the book itself isn’t criticizing the culture that inflicted it upon her to begin with.
3. Bridget is gloriously imperfect
At the beginning of the book Bridget drinks too much alcohol and smokes cigarettes. She struggles to get to anything on-time. One could say her doing things is always a series of unfortunate calamities. None of this really changes by the end of the year. One could argue that she kind of fails at the majority of her New Year’s Resolutions. But the thing that does change is that Bridget has started to like the core of who she is, and that in turn has made it possible for her to open up to a kind man, instead of, as she would say, the fuckwits she’s been dating previously. She’s become a bit kinder to herself about the flaws that aren’t really flaws per se but just personality quirks (like her complete inability to do anything efficiently). But she’s also very willing to keep trying on the things she probably should still be improving on (like the number of cigarettes she smokes). She simply feels real.
4. it’s hysterically funny
Part of what makes the book funny is, due to its diary entry nature, not every single scene necessarily contributes to the main plot, although each one does help with character development. As such, we get some scenes that are just simply bananas hysterical that a book with a different structure might have left out. One of my favorites is when Bridget decides to study herself to see why it takes her so long to get out the door in the morning. We then get time-stamped entries of each activity she does. It’s gloriously inefficient (including imagining her taking the time to actually write all of this down when she’s already running late to work…but she does it anyway.) Even secondary characters are richly imagined, which I think is probably partially due to the fact that Helen Fielding based many of them on people in her real life (she discusses this in the special 25th anniversary edition). Everyone in Bridget’s world, even her over-the-top batshit mother, feels real. And that’s part of what makes it so funny. It’s easy to imagine all of this really happening.
Review of the 25th Anniversary Edition
For my birthday this year, my husband gifted me the 25th anniversary edition of Bridget Jones. It’s a beautiful hardcover with a foil embossing of Bridget’s famous granny panties on the cover. Even more exciting, it has over 100 pages of new and unpublished material from Helen Fielding.
The first section is “Life Before Bridget” which gives a selection of some of Helen’s journalism articles from before Bridget took off. (Bridget was originally a newspaper column before becoming a book). I loved seeing Helen’s development as a writer and especially the context she gave. My favorite was a restaurant review in which she explains she went with her two best friends who were the inspiration for Jude and Shazzer in the book. I could hear echoes of those two in the restaurant review and absolutely loved it.
The second section is “The Diary of Bridget Jones” in which she explains how the idea for Bridget came to be, and we get selections from some of the initial Bridget newspaper articles.
Next is “Bridget Becomes a Thing,” which includes her interview with Colin Firth in character as Bridget, comics from the time period that reference Bridget, and Helen’s reflections on how it felt to realize she had written a cultural touchstone.
The next section is “Bridget in the 21st Century,” which are Bridget diary entries from 2018 on that Helen wrote for a variety of reasons from inclusion in a feminism book to addressing Brexit to the whole…2020 thing.
There is also an Introduction and a Conclusion written in Helen’s voice but int he style of a Bridget diary entry.
I had to stop saying “I loved it” after the end of each section explanation. It was getting ridiculously repetitive. It’s so rare for me to get to know an author better and enjoy their work more as a result. In all honesty I usually try to avoid getting to know an author because I don’t want things ruined for me. This had the opposite effect on me. I could see being friends with Helen. She’s witty and down-to-earth. I especially liked one section where she talked about people asking her about why she wrote something so silly and why she didn’t write more serious things and how her response was her first book was very serious (set in a war zone or something, I don’t remember), and no one wanted to read it. But they did want to read this. And that’s just the sort of smart commentary that’s throughout the book too. Posh people can try to judge Bridget for how she is, but how she is is, in fact, at least partially a survival response to how the world is. She’s doing her best in a good-natured sort of way in a world that seems to constantly harshly critique her no matter what.
It’s probably obvious by now this is 5 out of 5 stars from me.
Buy the 25th Anniversary Edition (Amazon not available on Bookshop.org)
Buy the Audiobook Read by Imogen Church (Amazon not available on Bookshop.org)
Buy the Movie (Amazon or Bookshop.org)
Length: 464 pages (25th anniversary edition) – chunkster
310 pages (original content) – average but on the longer side
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Book Review: Pixels of You by Ananth Hirsh, Yuko Ota, J.R. Doyle
Two interns, one human and one AI, dislike each other so naturally they’re forced to work together on a new project.
Summary:
In a near future, augmentation and AI changed everything and nothing. Indira is a human girl who has been cybernetically augmented after a tragic accident, and Fawn is one of the first human-presenting AI. They have the same internship at a gallery, but neither thinks much of the other’s photography. But after a huge public blowout, their mentor gives them an ultimatum. Work together on a project or leave her gallery forever. Grudgingly, the two begin to collaborate, and what comes out of it is astounding and revealing for both of them.
Review:
This forced proximity sapphic romance idea featuring a human and an AI is such a good one. The near-future world it is set in is fascinating. But both the relationship and the world weren’t explored enough for me.
AI in art is a really big issue right now. While it is also beginning to show up in written art, it has become a large issue much more quickly in graphic arts. So I was of course intrigued by a graphic novel exploring AI in a near future where a human artist is an intern side-by-side with an AI artist. But the book doesn’t really dig into the nitty gritty of whether what the AI produces can count as art or not. Even though the summary says that human-presenting AI like Fawn is new, no one seems particularly taken aback by Fawn. The most controversy she faces is other AI being jealous of her human-like skin. Given that Fawn is a photographer using solely her AI eye, there is a huge opportunity for exploration of what makes art, art. Yet this isn’t really explored at all. Similarly, Indira has a robotic eye to replace one she lost in an accident. It causes her chronic pain, but how having a robotic eye impacts her art as a photographer also isn’t really explored.
While I easily believed the forced proximity romance plot of Fawn and Indira if they were both human, I struggled to believe its rapidity given that Fawn is AI and Indira’s own background to her accident. (Which is a spoiler, but suffice to say one would imagine it would predispose her to negative feelings about AI.) I’m not saying these feelings couldn’t be overcome and the romance couldn’t happen, but it needed more time to develop. With regards to the spice of the romance, there’s some kissing and nothing more explicit than that.
The art in this graphic novel is beautiful. It has nice contrast that makes it easy to follow and suits the storyline.
Overall this is a pretty read and a fun world to visit, although it may leave you wishing for more.
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3 out of 5 stars
Length: 172 pages – average but on the shorter side
Source: Library
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Book Review: Jaws by Peter Benchley
Get ready for shark week with this 1970s classic!
Summary:
A great white shark starts terrorizing a coastal town just as the money-making summer season begins. The classic, blockbuster thriller of man-eating terror that inspired the Steven Spielberg movie and made millions of beachgoers afraid to go into the water. Experience the thrill of helpless horror again—or for the first time!
Review:
As a New England girl born and raised, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched Jaws the movie. Everything about it is just so *chef’s kiss* perfectly small New England beach town. (The movie is set on Long Island, New York, but was filmed on Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts, and, let me tell you, everything about it reads New England to me.) Plus, my cat absolutely adores watching Jaws. She’s obsessed with that shark. With summer rolling around once again, I decided it was high time I read the book. The book is almost always better than the movie, right? Well, in this case, that almost really comes into play. (Spoilers ahead for both the movie and the book. If you haven’t seen this classic yet, please go watch it then come back to the book review.)
The book starts off strong with a close omniscient perspective of the shark getting ready to eat the drunk lady swimming in the ocean. The book could easily sway into anthropomorphizing territory, imagining the viciousness of the shark. But it consistently describes a creature whose instinct is to feed. What, exactly, made it come in to Amity and stick around is a mystery that is never solved. This first scene is one of the strongest in the book. But I have to admit I was hearing the absolutely classic movie soundtrack in my head while I was reading it, and we all know how essential that is at building suspense. So I’m not sure it’s safe to say I felt engaged purely because of the book.
But it didn’t take too long for the book to showcase itself as…worse than the movie. When we meet Sheriff Brody, he mentions a problem they had the previous summer where a Black gardener sexually assaulted six white women, none of whom would press charges. The only point of this from a narrative perspective is to demonstrate how the police department will keep things under wraps in order to protect the summer season. But it’s a hatefully racist way to establish this, narratively. Even if I charitably imagine that this is supposed to be pointing out the racial divide in Amity that is later even clearer in the book, there are better ways to do that than to play into this horribly racist myth of the serial Black assaulter of white women.
There are two other plot points in the book that weren’t in the movie at all. First, there’s that Brody’s wife cheats on him with Hooper because she feels some weird Feminine Mystique style ennui about her life as a housewife at a lower social class than she was before she got married. (We only see the sex in flashbacks she has about it and how strange and scary Hooper was). There is a large scene where she has lunch with Hooper first and talks about her sexual fantasies. Kind of slows down the pace of the suspense from the shark attacks.
The other additional plot point is that the mayor of the town is mixed up with the mafia because he had to take out a loan from a loan shark (har har) to pay his wife’s cancer treatment medical bills. (What on earth do other countries with nationalized health care do to justify characters taking out unwise loans? This is such a common plot device…but I digress.) The mafia wants the beaches to be kept open. This is a big motivator for why the mayor keeps insisting on it. But I don’t think this motivator is necessary. The economic pressure and need of a tourist town to keep their main tourist attraction open is more than enough motivation. Anyone who has any familiarity with a town that depends on seasonal tourism gets that. Spielberg was right to cut this from the movie. This also brings about a scene I found much more disturbing than any shark attack, which is that the mafia kills Brody’s son’s cat in front of his son, and then Brody takes the dead cat and throws it in the mayor’s face.
The final act where Quint, the old-time fisherman, takes Brody and Hooper out on his boat to hunt the shark is overall pretty good. There’s some nice tension between the three of them, and Quint really has to eat his words about the shark not being intelligent. It does not end with the 70s style bang of the movie. But I kind of liked the simplicity of the ending, leaving Brody to swim to shore and deal with the aftermath on his own without any reader audience.
I’ve seen some lists of the differences between the book and the movie with mistakes and inaccuracies on them, so I do want to clear up a couple of things. Brody is afraid of the water in the book. This is well-established; I’m not sure how people missed that. Mrs. Kintner does slap Brody in the book when she confronts him about the shark killing her son.
The version of the book I read also had an introduction by the author where we find out that he was, basically, a “summer person” himself – from a wealthy family and a legacy graduate of Harvard (his father also went to Harvard). His father was a novelist, and because of that connection, Benchley got an agent before he even had a book written. By Benchley’s own recollection, he sold the idea for Jaws and then they told him he needed to write the book, and the screenplay was sold before the book was even written. He took a first shot at the script, and Spielberg told him to throw out a lot of the stuff that I mentioned in my review as things I didn’t like. Moral of the story being privileged dude sold an admittedly solid idea based on the idea alone to someone else who directed it into it being a classic.
Overall, it was interesting to read the book behind the movie, but I also now have the perfect answer for the next time someone asks me, “When is the movie ever better than the book?”
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3 out of 5 stars
Length: 320 pages – average but on the longer side
Source: Library
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Book Review: Zero Days by Ruth Ware
A new widow puts her professional penetration testing skills to work to discover who really killed her husband when she realizes she’s being framed for the crime.
Summary:
Hired by companies to break into buildings and hack security systems, Jack and her husband, Gabe, are the best penetration specialists in the business. But after a routine assignment goes horribly wrong, Jack arrives home to find her husband dead. To add to her horror, the police are closing in on their suspect—her.
Suddenly on the run and quickly running out of options, Jack must decide who she can trust as she circles closer to the real killer in this unputdownable and heart-pounding mystery.
Review:
Ruth Ware, often called the modern day Agatha Christie, drops a new thriller just in time for summer. This one features the fascinating world of penetration testers. What is a penetration tester, you ask? Someone companies hire to test their security. You may have heard of an “ethical hacker.” This is the same thing. Although, in the case of the book, the testing of security systems includes their physical systems. The title even alludes to a cybersecurity thing.
Jack, a talented reformed pickpocket, does the physical security testing, and Gabe, her husband, does the ethical hacking. The book opens with them working on a job, which provides delightful action sequences before the inciting incident of his murder. When she comes home and finds him dead, she gets sucked into a wave of grief that makes her oblivious to the warning signs she’s being framed. These are clear to the reader, and to her sister as well, which was a nice touch. Soon, Jack is on the run, with the dual goal of clearing her name and identifying her husband’s killer to bring him/them to justice.
The pacing of this thriller is solid. I was engrossed and wanted to find out what happened. Making Jack a penetration tester gives valid reasons for her skills at evading the police while also investigating the murder. She’s also easy to like and root for. The scenes of her evading the pervasive panopticon in London reminded me of a favorite book of mine, The Traveler (review). Those were among my favorite.
Two plot choices annoyed me. They’re spoilers, so consider yourself warned.
Gabe’s best friend kissing Jack felt out of character for both of them. I think it was supposed to be a clue to the reader not to trust him, but I already didn’t trust him. It was obvious from Jack saying that her sister didn’t use emojis like that on the phone that he set up for the two of them that this meant it was him on the phone. It was unnecessary and made it difficult for me to get over and like Jack again. I know sometimes grieving widows reach out in this way, and it’s not my place to judge, but it felt like a plot device more than a character choice. The other thing I disliked was that Jack is surprise pregnant at the end. Jack was suicidally depressed before she found out she was pregnant as she felt totally alone without her husband. (Even though her sister was very much involved the whole time, even getting arrested to help her.) In any case, the pregnancy being what it takes to snap Jack out of depression because now she has someone to live for really rubbed me the wrong way. Why couldn’t Jack have figured out that she should live and live well because that’s what we’re meant to do to the best of our abilities? Also, children don’t replace the spouse who passed away. That person is still gone. I get it that people feel like a legacy lives on in children, but to just snap out of suicidally depressed grief over a pregnancy doesn’t mean she properly processed her grief in any way, shape, or form. She’s now just living for the child in the way that she, apparently, was just living for Gabe before.
Overall, this is a fun, quick thriller perfect for a summer read.
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4 out of 5 stars
Length: 368 pages – average but on the longer side
Source: NetGalley
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Book Review: Killing Me by Michelle Gagnon
A laugh out loud thriller about women out-smarting a serial killer.
Summary:
Amber Jamison cannot believe she’s about to become the latest victim of a serial killer-she’s savvy and street smart, so when she gets pushed into, of all things, a white windowless van, she’s more angry than afraid. Things get even weirder when she’s miraculously saved by a mysterious woman…who promptly disappears. Who was she? And why is she hunting serial killers?
Review:
When I saw this on NetGalley, I was intrigued by the Final Girls-esque vibe – the women who would be the killer’s victims turning on him. I was skeptical I would find it humorous because, honestly, my funny bone is a little particular. But I actually found myself chortling on page one.
If you’re the type of person with an internal dialogue of self-deprecating humor about bizarre situations you find yourself in, then you’ll probably enjoy the sense of humor in this book. Regardless, you’ll be able to tell quickly if it’s for you or not, because the humor comes so quickly in the book, and that style is what’s present throughout the rest.
This is primarily told in the first person from Amber’s perspective, and she’s dry, acerbic, self-deprecating, but also whip-smart. (There are a few third person chapters that let us see things Amber doesn’t know about.) Amber is simultaneously problematic (she’s a con artist) and easy to root for. She’s richly three-dimensional. The main secondary characters are also rich and well-imagined. It would have been so easy to see a caricature of a sex worker, seedy motel owner, an Evangelical roommate, etc… yet they all are allowed to be more than what they might seem to be at first.
The Las Vegas setting rang very true to me. It depicted both the tourist bits and the seedier local areas quite well. I especially loved the run-down yet beloved film noir stylized motel as compared to the one recently made over to appeal to Gen Z and Millennials. That had me chortling.
I also really appreciated that this is a book whose main character is a lesbian but the plot has absolutely nothing to do with her being a lesbian. You could have almost the exact same book with a heterosexual main character. It’s just Amber so happens to like women. I like having this type of representation. It doesn’t always have to be about the difficulties of coming out or a romance to feature queer people.
The mystery itself was decent. The plot was certainly unique compared to other thrillers I’ve read, and I did not guess the ending. There was one twist that annoyed me only because it was solely a twist because Amber held something back from the reader. But I was willing to forgive it because she sort of breaks the fourth wall and acknowledges that she did it…which was funny.
I hope there’s a sequel, because I think there’s a lot left to explore with Amber, and she has a very interesting set-up at the end of the book.
Overall, I really recommend this to thriller lovers looking for something different. The humor and the plot really deliver.
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4 out of 5 stars
Length: 336 pages – average but on the longer side
Source: NetGalley
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Book Review: Hani and Ishu’s Guide to Fake Dating by Adiba Jaigirdar
In this Bangladeshi-Irish YA romance, Hani needs to convince her two best friends that she’s really bisexual. She lies and tells them she’s dating academically focused and acerbic Ishu who agrees to fake date in exchange for help being elected Head Girl.
Summary:
Everyone likes Humaira “Hani” Khan—she’s easy going and one of the most popular girls at school. But when she comes out to her friends as bisexual, they invalidate her identity, saying she can’t be bi if she’s only dated guys. Panicked, Hani blurts out that she’s in a relationship…with a girl her friends absolutely hate—Ishita “Ishu” Dey. Ishu is the complete opposite of Hani. She’s an academic overachiever who hopes that becoming head girl will set her on the right track for college. But Ishita agrees to help Hani, if Hani will help her become more popular so that she stands a chance of being elected head girl.
Despite their mutually beneficial pact, they start developing real feelings for each other. But relationships are complicated, and some people will do anything to stop two Bengali girls from achieving happily ever after.
Review:
I have a soft spot for Irish literature, and when I heard about this book by a Bangladeshi-Irish queer Muslim author with a bisexual main character, it landed on my tbr list very quickly. This was a quick read with an easy to follow story and a sweet, very low spice romance.
I enjoyed Hani and Ishu each separately as character. They take turns narrating in the first person, and I never lost track of who was speaking. This book uses the grumpy/sweet trope quite well. Ishu is only grumpy because she’s focused and willing to speak her mind. Hani quickly sees through that. Hani and Ishu’s cultures are intertwined beautifully in the book. I like it when a book doesn’t feel the need to stop and explain cultural things to the reader. It’s on us to look it up if we want to, and that’s when I really learn things. (Like when Hani makes Ishu porota for breakfast. I looked that up right away. Yum!)
As a bisexual person, I appreciated how the story highlights the specific issues for Hani in coming out as bisexual. It’s clear that her friends would have fairly rapidly accepted her as a lesbian, but they view bisexual as being either confused or attention-seeking. They also don’t believe her because they’ve never seen her date a girl. This is a very realistic depiction of biphobia. Hani is quite confident about who she is and what labels she chooses. In contrast, Ishu is uninterested in labels, although she’s definitely attracted to Hani. It’s not clear if she’s only ever been interested in girls or more or if it’s just that Hani is the first person she’s ever been interested in. But that doesn’t matter to Ishu, and it doesn’t matter to Hani either.
When this book first came out, it was praised for depicting a queer Muslim character. (This article goes into depth about representation for South Asian queer women and interviews the author as well.) There is a perception that you cannot be both queer and Muslim. Both Muslims and non-Muslims hold this viewpoint. Yet people like Jaigirdar are both and depicting this in her books is important to Jaigirdar. Thus, we see Hani engaging with her faith. She goes to the Mosque. She reads the Quran. She eats halal. There is also a perception among many non-Muslims that if someone is serious about Islam and a woman then they will wear the hijab. But it is possible for someone to be devoutly engaging with her faith and also not wearing hijab. The author depicts this in Hani, as well as how she must struggle against the perception that she must not be a “serious” Muslim because she doesn’t wear hijab.
So this book covers a lot of seriously important representation well, and the romance is sweet and believable. What didn’t work for me was the secondary characters. Whereas Hani and Ishu felt well-rounded and interesting, everyone else felt flat and two-dimensional. There also were some kind of big issues that Hani and Ishu seemed to just gloss over. Now, they’re teenagers, so maybe that’s realistic. But Ishu having to hide the relationship from her parents long-term was concerning to me. Also, we never see the characters talk about being in an interfaith relationship. We do hear that Ishu appreciates Hani’s devotion to her faith as part of her. But Ishu is atheist, and we never really hear Hani’s thoughts on that.
Overall, this was a fun read with a lot of important representation. Recommended to readers who enjoy the fake dating and/or grumpy/sweet tropes.
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3 out of 5 stars
Length: 352 pages – average but on the longer side
Source: Library
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Book Review: Love on the Menu by Mimi Deb
A London romcom whose meet-cute is a get your life together list accidentally dropped in a take-out bag leading to notes being passed back and forth.
Summary:
Gia thrives on risks. Ben plays it safe.
She crossed continents to chase her London dream; he works the same job in the same restaurant, night after night.
Then fate steps in. When Gia’s takeout is delivered, her embarrassing list of New Year’s resolutions accidentally makes its way to Ben’s restaurant, stuck to the bottom of a delivery backpack.
With each delivery Gia orders, Ben slips in a note of his own and eagerly awaits her reply. One by one, these notes transform their lives in unexpected ways, and an unlikely love story is written.
Review:
The only thing I can say without spoilers was I loved the meet-cute idea but ultimately disliked both halves of the pairing. The rest of this review will contain spoilers.
I didn’t know when I requested this book that Ben, the love interest, is in long-term recovery (5 years plus) from alcohol. As a sober person myself, when I realized this about the love interest, I was ecstatic to see that representation. It’s what kept me hanging on after a shaky opening that I’ll talk about in a moment. But ultimately the representation left me disappointed. Plus I wound up not liking Ben. So let’s get into it.
First, the opening chapter. Gia gets drunk at a work event and accidentally kisses her boss while dancing. How, you ask? I’m still confused by it. She was doing the Single Ladies dance, they were dancing back-to-back, and when she jumped to turn 180 degrees, her lips landed on her boss’s. I do not think this would actually be possible to do without either bonking noses or hitting teeth together.
Now I need to explain a bit about the plot to talk about what didn’t work for me. So, after this, she convinces herself she’s about to lose her job and writes the get your life together list Ben ultimately finds. When she returns to work after the holidays, she becomes convinced that her boss is out to get her, thanks partially to her work-friend, Jay’s warnings. They are both immigrants. She immigrated from India, and he from China. He explains that the boss can’t legally fire her for such a thing in Britain but she can set her up to fail by giving her too much responsibility then a warning then a firing. When she does suddenly get more responsibility at work, she becomes convinced this is what is happening. Meanwhile she keeps ordering delivery from a local Indian takeaway that reminds her of home, plus she’s getting to exchange cute notes with one of the employees, Ben, through them. He coaches youth football on the weekends and has a large and loving family. Ben becomes enamored with Gia. Eventually they get a chance to meet when she needs a caterer for a big important work event.
Gia repeatedly drinks too much throughout the book. I was ok with this at first because I thought maybe she would have an ah-hah moment and cut back (or stop entirely). But she doesn’t. She thinks maybe she should. She puts it on her list. (Heartbreakingly the list at the ends says: “Don’t Drink. Drink less. Drink responsibly.”) But then she doesn’t actually do it. She even continues binging up through her marathon run. Her mother at one point in the last chapter says to her boss that Gia drinks too much. The boss agrees. And Gia blows it off. In the last chapter! There’s nothing I can root for with a person in long-term recovery getting together with someone with an active alcohol problem that’s bad enough that their family and boss have noticed and yet they won’t acknowledge it.
There is a giant reason I don’t think Ben is right for Gia either. Essentially, when Ben was in the throes of his addiction, he made some choices that led to an immigrant getting fired from his brother’s company. Instead of standing up for the guy and taking responsibility for what happened that night, Ben let him be fired and then took his job (only to quit it a few weeks later). Everyone makes mistakes, and I’m ok with a hero being imperfect. But later – five years later – when this comes up, he says, “Why didn’t he just get another job?” and “Why do you make looking for a job sound like a marathon?” This was a very heartless thing to say. It’s even more heartless given that Ben knows that Gia is also an immigrant whose ability to stay in London is tied to her employment which she at that moment feels is precarious. Ben never actually apologizes for this. He reads Gia a letter in which he talks about how wonderful she is, but he never apologizes for how flippantly he regarded the immigrant work situation.
These two people don’t belong together, and that is what left me feeling sour at the end. I don’t see a HEA or even a HFN but the first few seconds of a train wreck.
So, while the meet-cute was adorable, and I loved seeing diversity both in race and mental health in this book, I ultimately felt that the two leads did not belong together, although with some different plot directions, they could have been. Ben could have made a real apology and done something to try to make up for his lack of compassion for immigrants. Gia could have realized she had a problem with alcohol and taken Ben up on the offer to hook her up with a sponsor. If these two conditions were met, there could have been a very cute one year later they get together with a new meet-cute epilogue. But instead the book just swept the important issues under the rug with a Beyonce song at the end.
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3 out of 5 stars
Length: 416 pages – average but on the longer side
Source: NetGalley
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Book Review: Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley by Peter Guralnick
Considered by many to be book one of the quintessential Elvis biography duology.
Summary:
Based on hundreds of interviews and nearly a decade of research, it traces the evolution not just of the man but of the music and of the culture he left utterly transformed, creating a completely fresh portrait of Elvis and his world.
This volume tracks the first twenty-four years of Elvis’ life, covering his childhood, the stunning first recordings at Sun Records (“That’s All Right,” “Mystery Train”), and the early RCA hits (“Heartbreak Hotel,” “Hound Dog,” “Don’t Be Cruel”). These were the years of his improbable self-invention and unprecedented triumphs, when it seemed that everything that Elvis tried succeeded wildly. There was scarcely a cloud in sight through this period until, in 1958, he was drafted into the army and his mother died shortly thereafter. The book closes on that somber and poignant note.
Review:
If you know you’d be into an in-depth Elvis biography, I can tell you that this one is widely acknowledged as the best starting place for its depth of research and attempt to present a neutral viewpoint – neither one of a fan nor one of a naysayer. It’s out to find the middle-ground, and the the truth does often lie somewhere in the middle.
If you think you wouldn’t be into an Elvis biography, there’s more to this book than Elvis. It’s also the story of the American music industry in the 1950s. I learned so much about how music was made and marketed at that time, and how rock n roll changed it. It wasn’t just about the sound but about how the music was actually sold. For example, I didn’t realize how at the tie going on near-constant tour to small music venues was considered the best way to market yourself. The chapters about how Elvis’s manager, the Colonel, got him onto television and how television really started to change the music industry were fascinating. It was like an echo of TikTok in some ways. I also really enjoyed learning about Sun Records – the small, independent label that gave both Elvis and Johnny Cash their starts.
I’d previously heard a lot of the very bad things about the Colonel. It made me wonder how Elvis fell for using him as his manager to begin with. This book really brought to light the why. The Colonel may have taken a much larger percent (25%) than was usual (10%), but he also had a great business mind and really got things done. It was the Colonel who got Elvis on television and in the movies. I’d always thought the Colonel pushed Elvis into the movies but this book showed from its extensive interviews that Elvis himself was quite interested in being like James Dean. The relationship, at least at the beginning, was a lot more give and take than I’d thought. Another example is that it’s clear from the interviews that Elvis was ok with letting the Colonel be “the bad guy.” He didn’t protest or get in the way when the Colonel did something that those around him thought was squidgy. In fact, it seems like he was kind of ok with letting the Colonel be the scapegoat.
I knew from previously reading The Gospel Side of Elvis that Elvis loved gospel music and considered it his first music love. I hadn’t realized, though, how almost indifferent he felt about the music he did play. He was professional about it, but he didn’t love it the way he loved gospel. From my understanding of the book he seemed to pursue the music he thought would be the most likely to lead to success, not the one he was passionate about. It always makes me a little sad to hear of someone making a choice based on potential success than passion, although I do understand why people do that. How different things would have been if he’d pursued gospel though, huh?
This book was a little slow-going for me because I kept stopping to listen to the songs mentioned or watch the television appearances as they came up. I think that enhanced the book, and if you have the chance to read the digital book with the audio/video enhancements, I would.
Overall, this book delivers what it promises – an in-depth look at Elvis based on extensive research and interviews. But it also goes further, illuminating America’s music scene in the 1950s, and how it changed, putting us on the trajectory to the modern music scene.
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4 out of 5 stars
Length: 560 pages – chunkster
Source: Library
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Book Review: Appalachian Zen by Steve Kanji Ruhl
A memoir written throughout one man’s life looking back on his childhood in the Appalachian region of Pennsylvania and following his journey to becoming a Zen Buddhist minister in Massachusetts.
Summary:
Edgy, lyrical, and lovingly rendered, this book recounts how a kid from a Pennsylvania mill-town trailer park grew up—surrounded by backwoods farms and amid grief, violence, and passionate yearning—to become something a Buddhist minister teaching Zen. Throughout the book, Ruhl engages Buddhist themes of awakening and the death of the self by confronting the lives and deaths, including two by suicide, of his loved ones. This provocative memoir tells how it feels to practice Zen, and to move toward a life of hard-won forgiveness, healing, and freedom.
Review:
As a woman who grew up in the hills of Vermont, I’ve felt an affinity for other hill folk throughout my life, but especially ones who struggled with the local culture and left looking for something else. The title of this book drew me in instantly when I saw it on my library’s new book shelf, and I brought it home after quickly verifying it was, indeed, about both Appalachia and Zen Buddhism.
I’ve read a lot of memoirs and a lot of Buddhist books in my day. But I’ve never read a book that’s both. I’ve also never read a memoir that was written over decades. That’s something that fascinated me about this memoir – Ruhl actually wrote large section of it while he was living through those moments. Of course, some parts, like looking back on his childhood, were written in retrospect, but others were written in the moment. Thus, Ruhl’s own voice and perspective changes over the course of the memoir in ways I found fascinating. Perhaps the most noticeable to me was how he moved from exoticizing Japan a bit when he first visited to beautifully articulating why that needs to be avoided as an American Zen practitioner later in the book.
Ruhl beautifully articulates what it feels like to grow up rural white poor, how that culture is beautiful and painful simultaneously, and, similarly, how it is both a relief and an ache to leave and live elsewhere. I thought this book would pair nicely with reading Limbo: Blue Collar Roots, White Collar Dreams (review). As part of his training, Ruhl went back to Pennsylvania to bring Zen to these hills. I was so excited about this part of the book because I find the idea of Buddhist ministry to the rural parts of the US like where I grew up so fascinating. But unfortunately the book had very little to say about it. That disappointed me. I wanted to know more about how he felt going back, what it was like to be back as a forming Zen minister, and how people in the area responded to Zen. It seemed to me that he was quite motivated to go back and do this work and then after his training he, instead, returned to Massachusetts. I realize that even memoirists get to hold parts of themselves and their journey private. But in a book called Appalachian Zen, I felt like it wasn’t unreasonable of me as a reader to expect more clarity about what happened here. Even if something simple and straightforward was said like…I realized that type of ministry wasn’t for me.
In contrast the author is exquisitely honest when discussing the suicides of two women he loved dearly – his sister and a close friend (former girlfriend). This part of the book moved me so much, I could only read it a few pages at a time. The author reveals the full spectrum of grief, including guilt, and even includes some excerpts from his ex-girlfriend’s journals, which she mailed to him just before she committed suicide. This is one of the most raw and honest accountings of being bereaved for someone lost in that way. But do be aware the methods of suicide are described (although not in graphic detail).
Ruhl describes participating in trainings with both the Zen Peacemakers, and the Zen Mountain Monastery, along with some other organizations. His trainings with the Zen Peacemakers included taking on being unhoused for a few days and traveling to Dachau to confront the Holocaust. His time with the Zen Mountain Monastery seems to have been more traditionally Zen. You can read more about Ruhl’s current work on his website.
Overall, this is a unique and emotional memoir written throughout the author’s life. The reader should be prepared for some areas to be explored more in-depth than others and open to aspects of Zen Buddhist thought being incorporated throughout.
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4 out of 5 stars
Length: 356 pages – average but on the longer side
Source: Library
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Book Review: The Saga of the Bloody Benders by Rick Geary
A true crime graphic novel telling of a family of serial killers in the 1870s.
Summary:
Out on a deserted stretch of Kansas road linking newly forming towns, a mysterious family stakes a claim and builds an inn for weary visitors. Soon, reports multiply of disappearances around that area. Generally, those who disappear have plenty of cash on them. A delicious tale of a gruesome family fronted by a beguiling lass who led their victims on…
Review:
I first heard about the Bloody Benders in an American Indians in Children’s Literature blog post about what Laura Ingalls Wilder left out of the Little House books. Essentially, Laura said she left out some aspects of her childhood because she didn’t think they belonged in a book written for children,…one of which is how Pa probably participated in mob justice against the Benders. American Indians in Children’s Literature does a great job breaking down how problematic it is that depicting white serial killers in her books wasn’t ok but depicting the horrifying treatment of Indigenous peoples was. In any case, I got curious about the Bloody Benders, and the internet said this was one of the better books written about the topic, so I picked it up from my public library.
The artwork is nice. I particularly enjoyed this depicted of the Bender family’s one-room grocery and inn to demonstrate how they pulled off the serial killings.
The content is factual and is careful to steer clear of using quotes in the panels when we don’t actually know what anyone said.
What made me dislike the book, though, was how it treated both Indigenous peoples and women. I understand that sometimes in historic nonfiction if a quote is being used or documents from the time period that it will use offensive language. However, this book used offensive language in parts that were narration written by the modern day author. It was published in 2007, and I truly feel someone on this book team should have been more thoughtful. A near-victim of the Benders was a Catholic missionary to the Osage people. Instead of saying it this way, though, the book says he, “dedicated his life to converting the savages.” This is the use of both a dehumanizing term and a glossing over of how missionary work was used as a weapon against Indigenous peoples in the Americas. This is a book about serial killers – I think whoever is reading it should be able to handle at least a footnote illuminating the complexities of this person’s missionary work.
With regards to the treatment of women, this is mostly in regards to how Kate Bender is discussed in the book. She is one of the four Bloody Benders, so I certainly don’t expect her to be discussed kindly, however while most of the book strives to stick closely to the truth as far as we know it, there is one part of the book that breaks down how folks determined the Benders pulled off their killings, based on the layout of the room, the trap door found, and reports of survivors. Most of this sticks to the facts, but then it gets to the part where Kate feeds the person sitting down at the guest table and says, “Does Kate also offer sexual favors as part of the package? No certain answer will ever be known.” What an unnecessarily and misogynistic supposition. Nothing that we know about Kate from survivors and those who knew her suggests she was promiscuous at all. In fact, earlier in the book it mentions she entertained suitors who ran errands for her but the suitors were never successful with her. Later when the book discusses possible endings for the various Benders that the rumor mills supposed, one proposed for Kate is as “a whore in Montana.” I trust that this was a true rumor, but it could have very easily said prostitute or sex worker.
True crime writing has the opportunity to analyze a crime and the society that surrounded it through a current lens. It can highlight both the good and the bad of that society and look at how this crime managed to occur, and, in the case of some crimes, go unstopped for so long. This book doesn’t do that, making it a beautifully illustrated reporting of what happened, lacking any analytical meat.
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2 out of 5 stars
Length: 76 pages – short nonfiction
Source: Library
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Opinions of a Wolf 