I am often typecast by friends and family as “the one who likes books.” To non-readers, a book is a book is a book, so I often end up getting some really weird books that I would never pick up for myself. This is how I ended up in possession of The Edge of Reason, Helen Fielding’s second Bridget Jones novel.
In this novel, Bridget stumbles through her day-to-day life, surviving one ridiculous mishap after another, until she is finally reunited with her love.
The writing is designed to imitate a form of shorthand that might be used to keep a diary. It reminded be somewhat of Flowers for Algernon in the sense that the form was an important part of the content (something that we (should) see often in poetry, but that is quite a bit rarer in novels). It was interesting and it gave the story quite a bit of verisimilitude. The short sentences kept me reading at a faster pace than I do normally, which was rather interesting. And even though I read this about four years ago, I still use the “v.” (or “vee,” if I’m speaking) as a shorthand for “very.”
Bridget Jones herself is a hilariously inept character, bouncing from one situation to another with little agency of her own. I have a soft spot for such characters, so long as they aren’t annoying about it, so I rather enjoyed her as well. The situations themselves were so ridiculous (particularly the one involving a naked boy and a bunny – yes, really) that they had me laughing quite a bit as I read through.
This is the ice-cream of the reading world – it’s enjoyable, not particularly nutritious, but it won’t rot your brain out either (provided it’s consumed only sparingly and interspersed with meatier fare).
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