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I'm So Happy for You: A novel about best friends Paperback – July 29, 2009


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Product Details

  • Paperback: 288 pages
  • Publisher: Back Bay Books; Reprint edition (July 29, 2009)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0316044504
  • ISBN-13: 978-0316044509
  • Product Dimensions: 8.3 x 5.5 x 0.8 inches
  • Shipping Weight: 9.6 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
  • Average Customer Review: 3.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (44 customer reviews)
  • Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #1,086,222 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

Editorial Reviews

From Publishers Weekly

Rosenfeld (What She Saw) delves into the thornier side of female friendship in this hip take on modern womanhood. Wendy and Daphne have been best friends forever, but their relationship, sketched out in e-mails that cascade from their group of girlfriends, comes to a breaking point when Daphne suddenly pulls herself together, stops fooling around with a married man and finds a new love interest who happens to be handsome, rich and obnoxious. In quick succession, Daphne ties the knot, moves into a brownstone and gets pregnant. Meanwhile, Wendy, a low-paid editorial drone who's been trying and failing to conceive with her slacker husband, feels that her own life is thrown into miserable relief. She begins to lash out at Daphne, first passively, and then rather aggressively. In the course of a few twists, misunderstandings and revealed secrets, Wendy questions whether the source of her inferiority complex is Daphne or herself. The two friends are by turns frustrating and sympathetic, while Rosenfeld takes a dark, hilarious and painfully accurate view of the less-than-pure reasons why women stay friends. (July)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From The New Yorker

The hapless, too-eager-to-please heroine of Rosenfeld’s new novel is an ill-paid editor at an obscure leftist journal who secretly resents her husband for abandoning his job to write a sci-fi screenplay and for failing to get her pregnant. No wonder she thrills to the travails of her best friend, a suicidal beauty who has always overshadowed her but is now languishing in a dead-end affair. Then, to her chagrin, her friend meets Mr. Right. The book’s confectionery veneer belies a heart of poison, as Rosenfeld tartly dispels the cherished chick-lit notion that female friendship conquers all. Equally ruthless is her sendup of overachieving New York women in feral pursuit of have-it-all motherhood without having first ascertained if they even like children.
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Customer Reviews

I think it is because I could not find a redeeming characteristic in the main characters.
working mom
Even the ending, with Wendy's desire to renew the "friendship" because Daphne was fatter, was disgusting.
A Reader
I feel sorry for the author if she knows folks like this that she based her characters on.
SFC

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

34 of 37 people found the following review helpful By R. Presner on August 21, 2009
Format: Paperback
The story revolves around the relationship (I hesitate to use the word 'friendship' out of respect for the term) between two women and their crew. Immediately, you're plunged into a circle of women and their chronic pettiness. The main character, Wendy, is possibly the most insincere, insecure heroine imaginable. She's passive-aggression personified. (Who throws a baby shower for a woman, then insults her guest of honor by writing something vile on the gift???) I think occasional stabs of envy are normal, but Wendy is off the reservation. Daphne is not much better. After fifteen years of using her friend as an emotional crutch, her idea of getting her life together is to "fall in love" with a man that is handsome and wealthy. He's a complete ass, but that fact is largely ignored after his purchase of a large Brooklyn brownstone. Daphne, once a ditz with a penchant for married men, now becomes the woman Wendy desperately envies. Every thought, spoken word, and email these women generate seem premeditated to inflict the most damage on their friends. They spend the duration of the book hating each other, and it's sad to watch.

But it's not just the story that grated at me. It was the book's insinuation that all female friendships are like this. According to "Happy For You," women are incapable of liking each other's company without constantly eying your companion's jewelry, home, or husband. Competition, not solidarity, is the real glue that binds females together. If this is what the author really thinks or has experienced, she has my deepest sympathy.

I thought this would be a slightly more cerebral version of "Something Borrowed" and "Something Blue" by Emily Giffin, but was wildly disappointed. Giffin's characters had redeemable qualities; Rosenfeld's do not.
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14 of 15 people found the following review helpful By Tracy Morales on November 19, 2009
Format: Paperback Verified Purchase
Wow. Where do I even begin? I suppose my biggest question for the author is how did she get this novel published? I know that's very Wendy/Daphne of me to ask so here's hoping she won't be too offended by the question. Neither Wendy nor Daphne endeared themselves to this reader. These female characters were just plain pathetic.

The bag of flour at the baby shower was over-the-top ridiculous and unbelievable as was Wendy's OBGYN suggesting Wendy buy some pretty underwear in order to solve her infertility problems. The sound of Daphne's voice was like nails on a chalkboard. Wendy lies, steals, is selfish, jealous, highly insecure, a slacker at work and seems ill-suited to work for a magazine such as Barricade. The expedited train wreck ending was only good in that it ended the novel. Sure wish our book group had selected that novel by Gore Vidal instead.
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14 of 15 people found the following review helpful By S. Barnes on November 18, 2009
Format: Paperback
Hands down, the worst book ever. Only the comatose father-in-law manages not too offend. The characters are poorly written and loathsome in every way. Not only do I not know any women like this (thankfully), but I've never even read about such a narrow minded, narcissistic crew. If you love the Real Housewives shows, this book is for you.Its plot, people and trajectory are almost as witty and introspective as what you'll find there. I am forced to give this book 1 star because amazon won't accept zero. After reading this book, I'd like a refund on my time.
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7 of 7 people found the following review helpful By Laney on January 10, 2010
Format: Paperback
This is an easy read and is mildly entertaining, however, it's a book that generally put me in a bad mood. The characters are neurotic and unkind to each other. Though it's not necessary to make characters wholesome, they should be likeable and I found each character in this book to be detestable, petty, and ugly. This is an over the top commentary on the way women treat each other, which seems to be unrealistic, somewhat stupid and lacking insight. Shallow relationships are boring to read about. The character development is either lacking, or the author meant to write about the most vapid group of people alive. Your friend getting fat is a reason for you to feel better about yourself? Great message. Would not recommend. Would be embarrassed to recommend. A really bad piece of literature.
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7 of 7 people found the following review helpful By VIDFAN VINE VOICE on January 7, 2010
Format: Paperback
As a native New Yorker, I have to say that I can't imagine anyone in California or anywhere else outside of NYC enjoying this book. It's written to appeal to a certain demographic - materialistic, bored yuppie women from NYC who suffer from Woody Allen-type neuroticisms and spend their time shopping in the "best" neighborhoods and the "most hip" cafe bar. I always wondered what kind of people lived in ugly, cramped apartments bordering wealthy neighborhoods - now I know! Wendy represents those shallow, wannabe yuppies who are willing to live on ramen noodles just to boast a fancy Brooklyn address (as if anyone in her circle really cared if she lived in South or North Slope). This book is, if anything, a fairly accurate snapshot of the elitist, bland lifestyle of yuppies living in NYC just before the crash - self-absorbed, petty slackers whose dreams are populated by doormen, expensive suits and big diamond rings. Almost everyone in the novel wants to be rich, or is already there- the author makes a half-hearted stab at reminding her readers (though someone's car crash and suicide attempt), that money isn't everything, but not before she regales the reader with lush descriptions of Brooklyn brownstones, nearly salivating at the mention of "wrought-iron." Give me a break! I read this book from a mainly anthropological point of view - to see what kind of crap certain people like to read. Like other readers, I found the flour incident at the baby shower totally unbelievable, as the "vanity project" scribbling that incited it. The ending has a ridiculous post-script, written in the style of "Sex and the City" (and about as deep). Books like these make me welcome the recession - "Grapes of Wrath," anyone? These bloated princesses of Brooklyn (including, presumably, the author) need to be brought down to earth.
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