Alcohol Units 6, Cigarettes 45,
Husbands 0

By Anita Gates,  New York Times

When last we saw Bridget Jones, she was in a suite at Hintlesham Hall with Mark Darcy, celebrating Christmas with vast quantities of Champagne and sex in a four-poster bed. Bridget was satisfied with her diet too, having gained 74 pounds during the calendar year and lost 72. 

A happy ending, however, is no excuse for forgoing a sequel. Especially when it comes to ''Bridget Jones's Diary,'' Helen Fielding's fabulously best-selling novel, the one that introduced the terms ''singleton'' and ''smug marrieds'' into the language. Said sequel, ''Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason,'' necessarily lacks the joy of discovery that accompanied the original, but its heroine is still great company - at least in the abstract. 

Many things about Bridget haven't changed. She still begins her diary entries with her weight; daily calorie, tobacco and alcohol intake; and other quantitative assessments of her progress toward becoming an ''assured, receptive, responsive woman of substance.'' She still lives in fear of dying alone and ''being found three weeks later half eaten by an Alsatian,'' which is why she hates being in her 30's and single. She still procrastinates madly, infers life lessons from ''Thelma and Louise'' and gets hangovers. And her mother still seems the same too, regularly advising, ''Don't say 'What?' Bridget, say 'Pardon?' '' 

But time waits for no woman, even the chronically self-monitoring. By Page 12, Bridget is already worried about losing Mark. She soon spends a weekend at a ''country cottage'' (with stables, outbuildings, a pool and its own church) that belongs to the parents of her potential rival, Rebecca. She becomes a bridesmaid. Gary the builder knocks a hole in the wall of her flat. She goes on holiday in Thailand and at one point has reason to make a list of good things about being in jail (weight loss, not spending money, restoration of natural oils to hair because of infrequent shampoos). Her career prospects brighten with the opportunity to interview the actor Colin Firth, but her Mr. Darcy fixation gets the best of her. (Firth starred in a BBC production of ''Pride and Prejudice.'') Her non-Darcy-related questions include ''What is your favorite color?'' and ''Do you think the book of 'Fever Pitch' has spored a confessional gender?'' As Firth fictionally responds, ''Excuse me?'' 

Yes, the secret Fielding's sequel reveals is this: Bridget may not be terribly bright. We know this because her ex-beau Daniel Cleaver says of her, ''How can you go out with someone who doesn't know where Germany is?'' This is not totally fair because she does know that it's in Europe. And she has some knowledge of its affairs. After a ''motorway signpost debacle,'' she muses parenthetically, ''If war today, better, surely, to confuse Germans by leaving signposts up?'' Later a rival suggests that Bridget believes Rimbaud was a character played by Sylvester Stallone. 

How can a reader not love this woman - not in spite of her faults but because of them? Bridget tries so hard. Her days are made up of glorious surges of hope followed by instant defeat or rash interpretations, or both. (Dare we compare her to Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway?) She knows the darkest despair. Reading a self-help book, she comes across ''Feelings of unworthiness? A belief that you are unlovable?'' and quickly answers: ''Huh. Is not belief is fact.'' Yet her spirit soars with the possibility of change. Reading Hello! magazine, she concentrates on pictures of Prince William. ''Cannot, though, ignore impression of great things fermenting around in young royal brain,'' she observes, ''and sense that, at maturity, will rise up like ancient knight of Round Table thrusting sword in air and creating dazzling new order.'' Well, yeah, but will he be a singleton?