In
Courtship, Self-Help Helps By
Susan Llewelyn Leach, Christian Science Monitor - March 9, 2000 Girl meets boy, falls in love, and lives fabulous,
romantic life, whizzing off to ridiculously exotic places where they even eat
breakfast by candlelight. You know the scenario. Only it almost never happens that way. Not in real
life, at least. And especially not in the world of Men Who Can't Commit that
Bridget Jones inhabits. The thirtysomething Londoner's road from Singleton to
Smug Married - as she brands the illusive club of the wedded - is hilariously
tortuous. And we get to feel every bump along the way. Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason is Helen Fielding's
second foray into the dating wilderness of Bridget's life, and it pokes fun at
the absurdities and vulnerabilities of the whole ritual. Aided by self-help books and a liberal amount of
alcohol and cigarettes, Bridget blunders her way through relationships
analyzing every blink and mumble. We meet her this time embarking on a new relationship
with the deliciously gallant Mark Darcy. Her diary entries record her dreamy
musings about the intimate moments they'll share, only to be rudely
interrupted by the boring facts of daily life. That fabulous breakfast of eggs
Benedict she's going to prepare for her beau does actually require a modicum
of culinary skill and, of course, a few basic ingredients - such as eggs. But Bridget muddles through, desperate to be what she
thinks Mark wants her to be, based on her close reading of such relevant
self-help books as Why Men Feel They Want What They Think They Want. As she
asks rhetorically, "Where else is one to turn for spiritual guidance to
deal with problems of modern age?" Even so, there is trouble in paradise. Rebecca, a tall
lithe blonde with swingy hair is trying to snag Mark from what she considers
his inept, middle-class girlfriend. Bridget sees the trick, but Mark seems to
play along, accepting Rebecca's invitations and constant attention. Chapter 3: "Doooom!" As misunderstandings thicken and exhaustive self-help
analysis only befogs things further, Mark and Bridget reluctantly part, both
confused about why. Bridget is devastated. Her girlfriends instantly rally
to the cause, rushing round to her apartment armed with supplies, the
requisite Pride and Prejudice video, and books like Through Love and Loss to
Self-Esteem and How to Heal the Hurt by Hating. She desperately wants to call and talk things through
with him, but is well-read enough to know that this is a complete dating
no-no. So she sits it out, follows "The Rules," and wonders if
"the whole hideous game of bluff and double-bluff with men" is not
all slightly mad somehow. Even her mother, a manic, self-absorbed,
class-conscious busybody, can see the advantages of straight-forward
communication. The Edge of Reason subtitle comes more sharply into
focus as the book progresses. Fielding takes us into the inner sanctum of
girl-talk, where Singletons try to perfect the troublingly complex art of how
to attract men while playing hard to get. Add to this the distortions of self-help, adhered to
like a religion, and you end up with a comedy of errors. Yet for all Bridget's
misguidedness, it's the familiarity of her predicaments that make her so
endearing. We laugh, but not without a hint of self-knowledge. |