MAD ABOUT THE BOY by Helen Fielding

 MAD ABOUT THE BOY by Helen Fielding

Having come to this book months after it was released and the disbelief and shock that devoted Bridget fans felt on reading it, I knew, sort of, what to expect. Bridget, alone, again, looking for love. Nothing new there.

So much effort, mentally, physically and emotionally was at the centre of Bridget finding true love in the first two books that there was a certain emptiness in the reading of most of this sequel. There is really no Darcy in this, other than in  her memory, although I did like her seeing glimpses of him in her son - yes, let's bring back Darcy. What a dream of a man, and what a dream of a couple they were. And that is the problem with this book - there is not one single adult relationship that comes anywhere near close to the relationship Bridget and Darcy had. Her friends, who I barely remember from the other books, are awful - flaky, directionless, boring, unhappy and I have no idea why Bridget continues to be friends with any of them. Daniel, who I never particularly liked, is a disaster, as intensely narcissistic as ever, and it catches up with him. What a freak. Even Bridget doubts her own judgement in having him babysit her children. Eventually. 

So Bridget is unhappy in widowhood. It is now five years since Darcy left this mortal coil. She has  two young children, Billy at school and Mabel almost at school. She still, yes still, obsesses about her weight, her alcoholic intake, her daily life is still chaotic. As well as being Mum, which she actually does incredibly well - good on you Jones, she is developing her talents as a writer of screenplays. To my horror she decides to join Twitter and her daily tally of followers joins the daily update of weight, calorie intake, texts received - all the stuff that heralds the beginning of a new day in the world of Bridget Jones.

This Twitter stuff is awful, with swags of text in the book transcribing these awful Twitter exchanges she has. She meets a man though - #Roxter, which I kept misreading as Rooster! You cougar Jones. Hot and steamy romance ensues. Hot and steamy romance ends. Jones moves on, book ends.

At times, I must say, the real Bridget Jones shone through, and I felt like I was meeting up with an old friend, she is such a honey. But it has been twenty years or so since we first met Bridget and she hasn't really changed or grown up at all. I honestly could not believe she was 50, she was still wittering on just like she did when juggling Darcy and Daniel. Had she not done any maturing/growing up during her years as Mrs Darcy and having her babies? Intensely annoying. I don't know anyone who is the same person they were 20 years ago. 

I thought about giving up, but I also wanted to find out if she finds true happiness again..... Nevertheless I feel we have reached the end of the road with Jones, and maybe we should leave her to live the rest of her life in peace and happiness without disgruntled readers knocking her off her pedestal.

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