Keeping up with the Jones

1.5lbs (v.g.; resembles v. intellectual tome, in manner of Henry not Helen Fielding, once the cover is taken off. Also, cover removal allows male reviewer to preserve semblance of being macho). Number of times faux-Bridget style intro must have been used in other publications by the time this review is published: probably 500 (ugh). Alcohol units consumed while pondering previous fact: 1.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Bridget Jones novel that begins with "Hurrah! The wilderness years are over" must be setting up a false dawn. What fun, after all, would it be seeing the same woman whose diary invented a whole support vocabulary for Singletons turn into a Smug Going-Out-With-Someone? Fortunately, while Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason begins where Bridget Jones' Diary left off-i.e. in happily-ever-after mode, with Bridget making goo-goo eyes at new-found beau Mark Darcy-the heroine reverts back to her neurotic type, convinces herself that Mark secretly is in love with the evil slim Rebecca, and jeopardises her relationship. Another chance to bring the two together. Hurrah!

Having topped the U.K. book charts for weeks, The Edge of Reason lands in the U.S. in time to dethrone that other recent British publishing colossus Harry Potter. Popular reaction to the original Bridget Jones Diary, which like Potter was initially feared too British in character to sell in America, was overwhelming and the book eventually sold 4 million copies world wide. It wasn't solely a publishing phenom, either; the surprise felt by critics when what seemed to be merely a Cosmo Beach Book of the Week actually turned out to be a well-crafted piece was palpable. Indeed, the back cover contains an endorsement from Salman Rushdie ("a brilliant comic creation").

That success was in large part due to the consistency of Bridget's character and voice. Whether Bridget is a postfeminist heroine or an antifeminist throwback seems secondary to that fact. At first glance merely flighty and airy, the actual brilliance of that comic voice can be seen by the pale attempts by other authors in the intervening years to replicate that light tone successfully. While Bridget is too detailed at points to read like a diary ("7.32 a.m. Except do not have any mushrooms or sausages. 7.33 a.m. Or eggs."), as interior monologue it's genius. The punning title may bring to mind Augustan seriousness, but Bridget continues to radiate glorious energy, and that sheer energy propels The Edge of Reason. Like Austen's Emma (it's hard to avoid referencing Austen when a novel includes elements such as the aforementioned Darcy, the scheming Rebecca and mislaid letters), a large part of the book's humor derives in part from the deluded conviction of a heroine who 'knows' what should be done in love. Bridget's precepts come humorously from her new source of inspiration, self-help books ("a new form of religion") and Fielding's description of the conflicting advice (Bridget owns both Happy to be Single and How to Find Your Perfect Partner in Thirty Days) manages to simultaneously send up the heroine and increase our goodwill towards her.

Fielding knows when she's on to a good thing: this sequel avoids making Bridget relationship-bound, and duplicates many of the elements of the initial diary, incomplete sentences and all. The diet books of the first diary may have been replaced by self-help ones, but Bridget's pick-and-mix approach, choosing only the advice she enjoys, remains, as do the dynamics of her tripartite friendship with Jude and Shazzer. As they work their way through their various relationships, that friendship is both funny and genuinely warm. The casual acceptance of smoking, alcohol use and sex (aside: could Renee Zellweger, recently cast as Bridget, duplicate this very British aspect of Bridget?) shows that Bridget is less high-strung than Ally McBeal, the inevitable object of comparison. And some genuinely hilarious moments pepper the novel: going to Mark Darcy's house and finding a "lithe oriental boy, stark naked, smiling weirdly, and holding out two wooden balls on a string and a baby rabbit".

In some ways, Bridget resembles a latter-day version of Henry Fielding's Tom Jones, caught as she is a picaresque series of adventures and winning goodwill from both other characters and readers by dint of sheer charisma (and some aid from Mark Darcy). Admittedly, those adventures include perhaps the weak point of the novel, when Bridget is framed for smuggling drugs in Thailand, which seems to be the excitement-and-terror locale du jour (see Brokedown Palace or The Beach). Out of urban London, Bridget's neuroticism seems hopelessly out of context: for all her moaning in her diary, a lot of the humor of the novel derives from the fact that her life is rather good, actually. And her performance of "Like a Virgin" in a Thai prison is the stuff of bad comedies.

Still, Fielding undercuts criticism by employing a bit of self-parody. Recognizing the potential silliness of Bridget's obsession with Colin Firth (Mr. Darcy on TV's "Pride and Prejudice"), the author exaggerates it by giving Bridget an over-the-top interview opportunity with the man himself (part of the in-joke is that Bridget is writing for the Independent, the same newspaper where Bridget herself was created in a spoof column by Fielding). Bridget falling over herself to ask Firth about the diving scene in Pride and Prejudice ("what I mean is did you ever have to take the shirt off and... and put another one on?") is yet another laugh-out-loud moment. And Bridget achieves success as a freelance TV journalist in the novel because viewers relate to her nervousness, just as the whole Bridget phenomenon was in large part due to an instant empathetic relation to Bridget's foibles.

It's true that The Edge of Reason is not going to convert any non-Bridget fans with its self-indulgent length (352 pages? How does a busy woman like Bridget find time to write almost a page a day?). And even fans will notice that the plots of the novel don't tie together as neatly as its predecessor. Whereas the relationship between Bridget's mother and her unctuous Portuguese suitor Julio was the plot lynchpin of the first novel, this time around the mother's adoption of Wellington, a Kikuyu who is much wiser than the muddle-headed, annoying mother, seems superfluous, included merely for the humorous possibilities. Moreover, the diary's focus on 1997, complete with references to the election of Tony Blair, dates it a bit, although it does allow Bridget to react to the death of Diana-leaving us relating to a fictional character who herself relates to a real-life character whose life was equal parts fairy tale and tragedy.

Still, that the book revolves around 1997 reminds us how long the wait for this sequel has been, and how much Bridget's unique tone was missed. (Bridget Jones, you've been gone too long.) The Edge of Reason will probably not engender any new angst-ridden debates about the state of the modern career women, but it does continue Fielding's fine form. In the tradition of comic novels, there's even a marriage at the end, although this reviewer is not about to say whose. Grab a Chardonnay; it's time to keep up with this Jones.

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