So Mad About the Boy
I don't think I've felt so betrayed by an author I love...well, since the last time I read about Helen Fielding's post-sequel plans for Bridget Jones.
Fielding's brand new novel, Mad About the Boy, to be released in a couple of weeks, is a return to the loveable, clumsy and downright inspiring Bridget Jones after almost a 15 year hiatus. Whilst it's certainly a momentous occasion I certainly would normally have loved, the recent spoilers about the book's content that Ms Fielding herself has exploded across the internet has definitely shot that bird of hope right between the eyes.
Mad About the Boy is a return of our misadventurous heroine, Bridget Jones, after a long absence after the end of Fielding's previous release, Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason. When we last left off our very deserving, chain-smoking, underdog, anti-femme fatale with the relatable extra pounds had finally settled down for a happy every after with her very own Prince Charming and Mr Darcy, the aptly named Mark Darcy. Their love spanned two books, a very successful bunch of columns, two very popular movies, and an entire generation of 'singletons' - women between the ages of 10 and 50 who were ok accepting the couple of extra pounds, lived with the fact that we weren't sleek, polished femme fatales, wore big knickers to smooth our dress lines, and dreamt of meeting our perfect men.
Bridget Jones, immortalised by Renee Zellweger since 1999, is a hero. Whilst not the most brusque feminist icon, that is exactly what she was: a hero and an icon. And for me, personally, has always been someone to look up to despite all the crazy, fails and occasional flashing the camera or social awkwardness she entailed. Bridget Jones is someone I like to remember when I feel down, she'll make me smile no matter what because, hey, she's not perfect but we love her 'just as she is'.
Which brings us to today.
The latest instalment to the saga goes, from what I've read, a little like this:
Five years or so after the death of Mark Darcy (?!?!?!?! this is already a cue for me to go and cry my little heart out in the shower), Bridget is now a dumpy, miserable 50 something with two young kids, an ok job and no sex life. Until she meets a ripped 20 something and embarks on a sexy affair with a younger man to rekindle some of the sex life she's lost after the death of her husband. Right.
Don't be mad as this is honesty 100% just my personal opinion, but could Helen Fielding have broken my heart any more? It could only get worse by flinging her back together with ex-boss and all-round douchebag, Daniel Cleaver. Touchwoodtouchwoodtouchwoodtouchwood!
The fairytale-esque romance perpetrated by the clumsy, every-woman persona of Bridget Jones' character was where the majority of the appeal of the story came from. When I first read the books I was in my teens and just growing into the kind of woman I wanted to be: like Bridget. But now I'm in my 20's and having all but reached that, this miserable image of after ever after is not exactly what I had in mind for my biggest role model and I hope to hell it's not my future. Suddenly someone I always related to has sort of become someone I really don't want to be even though I know that life isn't always all roses of success. It seems a little painful to think that even fictional fairy tales can't outlast the ever growing gritty realism and cynicism creeping into our 21st century world.
Although granted the romance wasn't the only thing I loved, whilst I already want to cry into a pillow that Prince Charming might just be temporary even when he does show up, I rest a little assured that at least she still has her Bridget spark. As Sheldon Cooper would say, she's just 'zazzy'.
Or does she? Whilst 30 something Bridget was battling with weight, the constant need for a fag and the crushing fear of never having someone to love, 50 something Bridget has lost her happy ending. I don't know about you, but that seems a little like a warning label to me. Bridget Jones isn't about recovering from this calibre of loss, it's about hope and believing and never giving up despite how bad you cook or you don't look like you stumbled out of Vogue. Bridget was supposed to show us that even misfit women deserve to fall in love and live happily ever after. I guess I just feel confronted that 'ever after' really wasn't really that long after all.
I have to give Ms Fielding some credit, however. As a fellow writer, I do respect the sheer amount of courage and utter balls that went into going in this direction with such a worldwide beloved character. If the X amount of hate mail the woman has received in the last couple of weeks has been any indication, I'm not the only one to be this disappointed with this next chapter in the life of Ms Jones. But even if I'm not happy, I'm not the writer and it isn't my say-so directing the story. If it was, Bridget would have rested eternally within her fluffy, dreamy, hopeful happily ever after. I'd have been ok with that.
So in the end I'm not going to read Mad About the Boy, and I wouldn't recommend it to anyone who felt the same way about Bridget Jones as I. It's not personal, Ms Fielding, if you can hear me; I just need to retain some happy endings in my life and I'll be damned if this isn't one of them.
Fielding's brand new novel, Mad About the Boy, to be released in a couple of weeks, is a return to the loveable, clumsy and downright inspiring Bridget Jones after almost a 15 year hiatus. Whilst it's certainly a momentous occasion I certainly would normally have loved, the recent spoilers about the book's content that Ms Fielding herself has exploded across the internet has definitely shot that bird of hope right between the eyes.
Mad About the Boy is a return of our misadventurous heroine, Bridget Jones, after a long absence after the end of Fielding's previous release, Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason. When we last left off our very deserving, chain-smoking, underdog, anti-femme fatale with the relatable extra pounds had finally settled down for a happy every after with her very own Prince Charming and Mr Darcy, the aptly named Mark Darcy. Their love spanned two books, a very successful bunch of columns, two very popular movies, and an entire generation of 'singletons' - women between the ages of 10 and 50 who were ok accepting the couple of extra pounds, lived with the fact that we weren't sleek, polished femme fatales, wore big knickers to smooth our dress lines, and dreamt of meeting our perfect men.
Bridget Jones, immortalised by Renee Zellweger since 1999, is a hero. Whilst not the most brusque feminist icon, that is exactly what she was: a hero and an icon. And for me, personally, has always been someone to look up to despite all the crazy, fails and occasional flashing the camera or social awkwardness she entailed. Bridget Jones is someone I like to remember when I feel down, she'll make me smile no matter what because, hey, she's not perfect but we love her 'just as she is'.Which brings us to today.
The latest instalment to the saga goes, from what I've read, a little like this:
Five years or so after the death of Mark Darcy (?!?!?!?! this is already a cue for me to go and cry my little heart out in the shower), Bridget is now a dumpy, miserable 50 something with two young kids, an ok job and no sex life. Until she meets a ripped 20 something and embarks on a sexy affair with a younger man to rekindle some of the sex life she's lost after the death of her husband. Right.
Don't be mad as this is honesty 100% just my personal opinion, but could Helen Fielding have broken my heart any more? It could only get worse by flinging her back together with ex-boss and all-round douchebag, Daniel Cleaver. Touchwoodtouchwoodtouchwoodtouchwood!
The fairytale-esque romance perpetrated by the clumsy, every-woman persona of Bridget Jones' character was where the majority of the appeal of the story came from. When I first read the books I was in my teens and just growing into the kind of woman I wanted to be: like Bridget. But now I'm in my 20's and having all but reached that, this miserable image of after ever after is not exactly what I had in mind for my biggest role model and I hope to hell it's not my future. Suddenly someone I always related to has sort of become someone I really don't want to be even though I know that life isn't always all roses of success. It seems a little painful to think that even fictional fairy tales can't outlast the ever growing gritty realism and cynicism creeping into our 21st century world.
Although granted the romance wasn't the only thing I loved, whilst I already want to cry into a pillow that Prince Charming might just be temporary even when he does show up, I rest a little assured that at least she still has her Bridget spark. As Sheldon Cooper would say, she's just 'zazzy'.
Or does she? Whilst 30 something Bridget was battling with weight, the constant need for a fag and the crushing fear of never having someone to love, 50 something Bridget has lost her happy ending. I don't know about you, but that seems a little like a warning label to me. Bridget Jones isn't about recovering from this calibre of loss, it's about hope and believing and never giving up despite how bad you cook or you don't look like you stumbled out of Vogue. Bridget was supposed to show us that even misfit women deserve to fall in love and live happily ever after. I guess I just feel confronted that 'ever after' really wasn't really that long after all.
I have to give Ms Fielding some credit, however. As a fellow writer, I do respect the sheer amount of courage and utter balls that went into going in this direction with such a worldwide beloved character. If the X amount of hate mail the woman has received in the last couple of weeks has been any indication, I'm not the only one to be this disappointed with this next chapter in the life of Ms Jones. But even if I'm not happy, I'm not the writer and it isn't my say-so directing the story. If it was, Bridget would have rested eternally within her fluffy, dreamy, hopeful happily ever after. I'd have been ok with that.
So in the end I'm not going to read Mad About the Boy, and I wouldn't recommend it to anyone who felt the same way about Bridget Jones as I. It's not personal, Ms Fielding, if you can hear me; I just need to retain some happy endings in my life and I'll be damned if this isn't one of them.
For an interesting take on the same topic, try this article; I'm far from the only unhappy fan ready to boycott the new book and sulk instead.
Sam xox
Comments
Post a Comment