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HONEYMOON
by Amy Jenkins is a trite but whimsical novel about the Great Love
of Your Life. Honey is about to marry Ed. On her girls-night-out,
she tells the long-forgotten tale of how she met Mr. Right, not
Mr. Ed, some time ago by accident --- a healthy, happy All-American
blonde who never returned her calls and may or may not have tried
to reach her through love letters in the mail. Nonetheless, as she
is about to marry a man who is kind and gentle and respectful and
loving, she is reminded of this great passion that was never consummated,
which will always dangle in her mind as the one she let get away.
Trying not to give in to her foolishly romantic girlfriends, who
think she should find the guy, Honey marries Ed and ends up in a
suite at the Plaza in New York City. Next door, surprise, surprise!
is the All-American hunk for whom she recently called up her pushed-aside
memories. So begins the twisted tale of two couples, only one of
whom is in "true love," and how they end up finding the right one
amongst the group for lifelong happiness.
If Helen Fielding had never written the "Bridget Jones" books, I
would have enjoyed this. It was simple and silly and utterly romantic
and completely and utterly implausible, the sort of book I assumed
it wanted to be. However, the voice of Honey is too close for comfort
to the witty, indefatigable voice of Bridget Jones herself.
The "bored single-girl of 30-something years living in the big city"
genre is about to collapse in on itself from sheer volume, which
is too bad --- it's an important and full-of-fodder group making
up a serious novel-reading constituency. If Honey had a more original
voice, HONEYMOON would be well worth taking. As it is, HONEYMOON
is not nearly as much fun as it could have been.
--- Reviewed by Jana Siciliano
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