Summary:
By the author of the Devil Wears Prada.
It's another look at NYC and the upper crust. This time around, instead of being about the fashion industry, it's all about the club scenes and a banker-turned-publicist named Bette. She quits her job in a fit of crazy and wallows in the glory of being without commitments or deadlines for a couple months until her family harasses her into feeling lazy, so she allows her uncle to set her up with a job from a chick she meets at a dinner party. What follows is an insider glimpse into the insanity that goes on behind closed doors with the trendiest of trendy, where Bette unwittingly picks up a British tabloid obsession of a boyfriend a la Colin Farrel in his hey-day, and loses herself in the keeping up of that lie and spending every night with a bunch of coke-and-liquor-obsessed assholes, while wishing she could hook up with the hot bouncer, or with her best friend who moves to LA with her coke-and-liquor-obsessed asshole of a fiance.
Thoughts:
The first few chapters are slow going, but only because Weisberger has to set up the characters and the scenes before she can rip Bette out of the life she knows and loves. Weisberger pulls no punches when she paints all the celebrity/socialite wannabes to be the aforementioned assholes. She obviously has seen enough of the trendy world, and hates everyone in it. Oh, and the book is complete with her own version of Gossip Girl, who turns out to be exactly who you might suspect.
I knew just about everything that was going to happen several pages before the book even started to suggest a plot twist. There were a couple of things I didn't 100% expect, but for the most part, I was pretty sure I knew what was coming.
There is one passage that I loved in the book, because it talks about exactly how I feel about cheesy romance novel type books. Bette is obsessed with romance novels, and talks about them all through the book. This is what she has to say about reading them:
"Escape was part of it, of course, but life wasn't so miserable that I had to revert to a fantasy world. It was inspirational to read about two gorgeous people who overcame all obstacles to be together, who loved each other so much that they always found a way to make it work. The sex scenes were a bonus, but more than that, the books always ended happily, offering such optimism that I couldn't keep myself from starting another immediately. They were predictable, dependable, entertaining, and most of all, they depicted love affairs that I could not deny- no matter how much feminism or political correctness or women's empowerment my parents could throw at me- I desperately wanted more than anything in the world. I was conditioned to compare every single date in my life to The Ideal. I couldn't help it. I wanted the fairy tale."
I love romance novels, too, though I actually prefer to have less sex scenes to read because reading those are just awkward sometimes. (Yes, everyone does it, but do you really need to describe to me how things work? I think I have an idea, thanks, and I don't care to have it explained in vivid detail.) Past that, I like reading all the lead-up and the angsty stuff that I never had to deal with. Lucky for me, I actually found The Ideal very early in my life. I've got that fairy tale. I just like reading other people's fairy tales too.
I will admit, though, when I started reading the book the first time, I couldn't get past the first chapter or so. It opened with Bette's best friend getting engaged, and I started reading this a good year ago or so, right when people all around me were getting engaged, and I wasn't, and I literally couldn't handle it. I'm in a better place now (and with a ring on my finger, too, obviously) and when I read that bit, I could read it with the proper anxiety for Bette, not for myself. It's funny how a year can change one's ability to read a book, huh?
Anyway, now that I've been thoroughly verbose, I'll sign off. Today's a day off, so I might be able to plow through another silly book while I'm all by myself. We'll see how it goes.
5 down, 45 to go!
Pages: 367
Genre: Chicklit, romance
Grade: B-
Would I Read Again?: I won't reread it, no. I probably wouldn't really recommend it either, actually.
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