Jennifer Weiner's "Good in Bed" became a very big deal in 2001. It sold a trillion copies. One of Weiner's subsequent novels became a Cameron Diaz vehicle.
Some people wrote off "Good in Bed" because it had been given the label "chick lit," and the condescension in reader responses became its own news event. "What is wrong with writing for and about women?" Weiner asked. She has been asking this ever since.
I'm a bit late to the party--and the info below is likely not news--but a helpful (?) reminder:
Weiner writes about an unorthodox protagonist. She is overweight, her happiness isn't ultimately tied to being "coupled," she is extremely smart and professionally driven, and she has a deeply unhappy childhood story. You sense you haven't really seen her before, on the page, and also, you feel, pretty quickly, that you know her.
Weiner has a shrewd understanding of psychology. Weiner's protagonist visits a psychologist, who says, "You can't control others, just your response to others." And: "Keeping supportive people around you is a good idea." Simple nuggets--but so hard to take in, in a *real* sense--and we watch our Princeton-smart protagonist struggling to understand what she has been told. This is the stuff of an intelligent Bildungsroman.
Weiner has a sense of humor. Weiner's protagonist spends a fair amount of time reading pop-psych articles. (Don't we all?) She learns that "deflating" a "toxic" person involves not becoming defensive. When someone says, "You look pregnant," there's no need to become agitated, or to say, "That's none of your business." You could instead reply: "What I'm hearing is that you are curious about my personal life." It's delightful to watch the protagonist try out this "Cosmo" sentence in the workplace.
Weiner combines plausible plotting with interesting, fanciful twists. I love Weiner's weight-loss-clinic scene, where the ladies try for mutiny. "We all know that the correct serving is the size of a deck of cards. Can we just get to the drugs?" When a doctor asks, "Would you pass by a donut in the office?" the women brilliantly say, "That depends on context. Krispy Kreme? Dunkin? Glazed? Chocolate? Half-eaten by the copy editor?" This is a funny twist, and it seems to come from lived experience. You sense that the writer keeps her eyes open. At the same time, she is happy to include a wish-fulfillment segment, in which our heroine stumbles, randomly, upon a weeping, powerful starlet--and our heroine is then briefly swept into a Hollywood lifestyle. Sure. All very fun to imagine.
Weiner invents new plots. What if the heroine does NOT end up with her Mr. Darcy? What if she ends up single and pregnant? It's not genre-busting to have this twist--not exactly--but, still, it feels new. It feels new, even now, in 2019. I've had a grand time with "Good in Bed."
Some people wrote off "Good in Bed" because it had been given the label "chick lit," and the condescension in reader responses became its own news event. "What is wrong with writing for and about women?" Weiner asked. She has been asking this ever since.
I'm a bit late to the party--and the info below is likely not news--but a helpful (?) reminder:
Weiner writes about an unorthodox protagonist. She is overweight, her happiness isn't ultimately tied to being "coupled," she is extremely smart and professionally driven, and she has a deeply unhappy childhood story. You sense you haven't really seen her before, on the page, and also, you feel, pretty quickly, that you know her.
Weiner has a shrewd understanding of psychology. Weiner's protagonist visits a psychologist, who says, "You can't control others, just your response to others." And: "Keeping supportive people around you is a good idea." Simple nuggets--but so hard to take in, in a *real* sense--and we watch our Princeton-smart protagonist struggling to understand what she has been told. This is the stuff of an intelligent Bildungsroman.
Weiner has a sense of humor. Weiner's protagonist spends a fair amount of time reading pop-psych articles. (Don't we all?) She learns that "deflating" a "toxic" person involves not becoming defensive. When someone says, "You look pregnant," there's no need to become agitated, or to say, "That's none of your business." You could instead reply: "What I'm hearing is that you are curious about my personal life." It's delightful to watch the protagonist try out this "Cosmo" sentence in the workplace.
Weiner combines plausible plotting with interesting, fanciful twists. I love Weiner's weight-loss-clinic scene, where the ladies try for mutiny. "We all know that the correct serving is the size of a deck of cards. Can we just get to the drugs?" When a doctor asks, "Would you pass by a donut in the office?" the women brilliantly say, "That depends on context. Krispy Kreme? Dunkin? Glazed? Chocolate? Half-eaten by the copy editor?" This is a funny twist, and it seems to come from lived experience. You sense that the writer keeps her eyes open. At the same time, she is happy to include a wish-fulfillment segment, in which our heroine stumbles, randomly, upon a weeping, powerful starlet--and our heroine is then briefly swept into a Hollywood lifestyle. Sure. All very fun to imagine.
Weiner invents new plots. What if the heroine does NOT end up with her Mr. Darcy? What if she ends up single and pregnant? It's not genre-busting to have this twist--not exactly--but, still, it feels new. It feels new, even now, in 2019. I've had a grand time with "Good in Bed."
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