"I entered the relationship world thinking it was all based on how loudly those butterflies were beating their wings in my tummy. I could have used some warning at twenty-one when I met Adam and began my first serious relationship, a relationship that would last ten years and bring me to where I am now, consulting self-help books and consoling myself with cheap Merlot."
And so begins -- more or less -- the tale of The Prairie Bridesmaid.
But where should I begin....
Yeah, I did not really enjoy Daria Salamon's debut. I tried, though. I mean, Chantal Kreviazuk likes it, according to the cover. And I often find myself singing Kreviazuk songs in the shower, so clearly.... Also, Nia Vardalos. Who doesn't love My Big Fat Greek Wedding?
But the thing is, the main character's voice is too much. She's too ironic. She's too punchy with the jokes as she's gazing at her navel. She's too separated from herself as everything falls to pieces around her.
It gets hard to believe she has a single feeling that's real. Especially when she starts talking to a friendly neighbourhood rodent.
Meanwhile, if the storyline of Bridezillas gone pure evil weren't too much, Salamon suddenly got a case of the Days of Our Lives. When things started to slow down, she threw in an adoption storyline. And a childhood abuse storyline. And a scary pregnancy storyline. And a religious cult storyline.
I am actually not ruining the book for you, because none of those storylines have anything of any substance to do with the actual narrative.
Hm. I should stop ranting. You should skim the book. While standing in Chapters. And don't believe Steven Galloway when he says, "Every bit as entertaining as A Complicated Kindness...." This is a falsehood.
Ok. Calming down. Back to Margaret Atwood, who never lets me down.
1 comment:
maybe this is literature for the ADHD generation?
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