The thing is chick-lit (I'm sure the Guardian came up with a better name for it but I can't remember what it was) is not my usual choice of books. I tend to pass over the pastel covers on the 3 for 2 table in Waterstones, I do judge a book by it's cover and these just don't intrigue me. Not like, say the cover on The Book of Lost Things.
It's not just that though, you always know what is going to be inside. For me this kind of a book is an illicit pleasure, but ultimately it's read and then forgotten. It's same as me liking dark, dark chocolate but every now and then I fancy a bit of light and fluffy Dairy Milk. So, as this isn't the kind of book I normally buy, I quite enjoyed reading it, even if I was a little embarrassed to be seen reading on the train.
(No I don't want to know what you think this says about me, I can probably guess)
The thing with chick-lit is that, although the characters are often based on similar archetypes, the book always relies on them generating a great deal of feeling towards them and Sophie King does that with a enough kinks (wouldn't go so far as to say 'twists') to keep you guessing. And being a journalist, it's as well written as you would expect, there is definately enough to keep you turning the pages.
At the centre of the story is Becky, a working mum who is afraid of her children, seems to be happy to hide at work and is disturbed by the her father's forthcoming nuptials. Her soon to be stepmother causes more angst than just that of reminding her that her parents are not ever going to reunite and is the catalyst for her having to get to know her children better - surprise, surprise she likes it; well, once she realises she can do it (ring any bells?).
All generations are woven into this story, and even the unlikely best-friend's elderly housemate is touched by the wedding, and not just in her role as planner for 'For Weddings and Funerals'. I could tell you more about the female vicar, a love interest, a dog, a wheelchair and a pond, but that give away too much of the story.
Does it matter when it's such an easy read? I don't know, but just in case...
The thing I learnt from this book is that we are 'living in the age of the panty liner'. (I'm trying not to think of theose Tena lady adds for weak bladdered thirty years olds, WTF?)
It's light, the characters are all relate-able to, it is different enough from the pastel covered book next to it to mean you should buy both. It does touch on topics such as faith and morality, but it didn't lead me nto contemplation, nor change my life, but then I don't think it was intended to. It simply helped me while away a few entertaining hours.
1 comment:
I love easy reads, though they have to be the right ones. I was never much of a chick lit person, until I had Rosemary, when suddenly all I could read was momlit, specifically those with babies in. Scary stuff, though probably the ease of reading helps when you can only grab small chunk of time between changing nappies, cleaning clothes and trying desparately to get a bit of sleep. I got over it when she was about nine months, but I still indulge every now and then.
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