Does Every "Women's Book" Have To Be Chick Lit? A Rant.


So, I picked up this book called "London is the Best City in America" by Laura Dave. It was on the free table. There was a photo of a woman's pink dress and feet on the cover, so I thought it might be one of those breezy chick-lit novels that are so common these days. But, you know, it was in hardcover, not trade paperback, so I thought maybe it's serious literature or maybe Ella will get a kick out of it. And the title made me think of this stupid song ("The 51st State of America" by New Model Army) I hadn't thought of in many years and I got nostalgic and let my guard down.

Whatever. I needed something to read on the train home. All I had was the book I've already read for a review. I'm trying to go through it again in order to finish up my review. (Attention book reviewers: That's what you're supposed to do.)But I got off work late, and I'm tired, and my son knocked my glasses out of whack so I'm getting eye strain and I just didn't feel up to a serious re-reading of my review book.

So I started this "London" book and the writing's pretty good. Nothing flashy, but it keeps me turning pages. I'm a few chapters in before I start thinking about the cliches. It begins with a woman skipping out just before her wedding. Didn't the first episode of "Friends" begin that way? And then we skip ahead and the narrator (who has a cute name, like Emmy Emmerson or something) meets up with her beloved older brother who's thinking about skipping out just before his own wedding. Why? Because there's this other woman who's so wonderful, he just doesn't know who his soul mate is anymore. Much obsession ensues over which one is The One.

Maybe it's because I'm married to a no-nonsense beautiful gal like Ella, but I just don't have a lot of patience for that kind of stuff anymore. I want to scream, "Just pick one! And stick with her!"

So, I've been so sleep-deprived and out of it this week that I found myself stuck on the train with only this book (and my review book) several nights in a row. And so I read on, enough to think about how this book, as good as it is, annoys me. I mean, can women write about something other than romantic relationships and weddings and family? Of course they can, and they do. Can women read books about other subjects? Of course they can, and they do. So, I'm thinking about all this crap and it dredges up bad memories of another dressed-up chick-lit book that I read a few years ago: "The Dive From Clausen's Pier" by Anne Packer. God, I hated that book. It got good reviews, too. I can think of few books I've read that pissed me off so much. The author and the main character merged in my mind and that person became a kind of enemy.

OK, "London is the Best" isn't hateful, like "Clausen's Pier." I'm sure it's fine, really. And, hell, Jane Austen wrote only about relationships and family and so on, and I love Jane Austen. But you know, we're told that Emmy's working on a documentary. I think I'd like to hear more about that.