Review: Bridget Jones Diary



Meet Bridget Jones—a 30-something Singleton who is certain she would have all the answers if she could:
a. lose 7 pounds
b. stop smoking
c. develop Inner Poise

“123 lbs. (how is it possible to put on 4 pounds in the middle of the night? Could flesh have somehow solidified becoming denser and heavier? Repulsive, horrifying notion), alcohol units 4 (excellent), cigarettes 21 (poor but will give up totally tomorrow), number of correct lottery numbers 2 (better, but nevertheless useless)…”

Bridget Jones’ Diary is the devastatingly self-aware, laugh-out-loud daily chronicle of Bridget’s permanent, doomed quest for self-improvement — a year in which she resolves to: reduce the circumference of each thigh by 1.5 inches, visit the gym three times a week not just to buy a sandwich, form a functional relationship with a responsible adult, and learn to program the VCR.

Over the course of the year, Bridget loses a total of 72 pounds but gains a total of 74. She remains, however, optimistic. Through it all, Bridget will have you helpless with laughter, and — like millions of readers the world round — you’ll find yourself shouting, “Bridget Jones is me!” 


This seems to be a cult favorite along the lines of The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood or The Devil Wear Prada. Although I’m not sure why. I planned on reading this book as a “Bedtime Bite” or within a day or two, but unfortunately it became a several week drawn out chore to get through Bridget Jones’ life.

I suppose to some degree, Bridget herself is an interesting character. She manages to find herself and finally realize what she wants. But as a person and a reader rI honestly don’t have the patience for other people’s journeys, especially when they’re borderline absurd. I think my major qualms with this story came from the characters, because they seemed to be too involved with their own silly dramas to care about the grander schemes. But then again, what would these grand schemes even be?

I suppose this just isn’t a book geared for me, although I hope to never become the type of middle-aged woman this seems to appeal to. While I don’t advocate for being a literary snob, this book was just a few steps too far down the ladder for me.

However, despite all of this, I still found myself cheering for Bridget and excited when everything turned out the way she wanted it, or deserved. Perhaps that in itself if the appeal of this book, despite her annoying nature and shortcomings, we all want to root for Bridget. Maybe it’s because we fear acting like her, so we hope she gets her shit together, because if even Bridget Jones can get her ducks in a row, so can the rest of us.



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