I snatched this title off the shelf at Border's and shelled out the 15 bucks for it, salivating with excitement to read a collection of stories about women like me, who have sacrificed peace of mind for over-achievements. I, too, have been trying to relax my over-competitiveness and perfectionism "on paper" as I enter my mid-twenties. I was a bit miffed at the pink, girly cover, since not all women are hyper feminine, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she just really likes the color. I was a bit weary that the author's scope may be limited to privileged, upper-middle class, white "good girls," but I thought, surely a book about overachieving women wouldn't be anything like chick lit.
Boy, was I wrong.
Within the first few pages, I had to remind myself that the author was only 19 at the time of writing it, so perhaps she didn't have the most developed perspective on the "Supegirls" issue. Perhaps I misunderstood her definition of "Supergirls." She gets one thing right: that people need to learn to enjoy their lives and not succumb to society's pressures to be perfect. A good lesson for anyone. However, when she began overgeneralizing "Supergirls" as needing to juggle perfect social calendars and being seen at all the right club scenes, I flipped. This is ridiculous. Never have I met a true, over-achieving "Supergirl" who would ever waste her time primping for the male gaze and bar-hopping or wasting a night on the town. True "Supergirls" would be embarrassed to be seen at such vapid venues. They're in their rooms getting ulcers from studying so hard, winning national scholarships, meeting foreign ambassadors, getting fellowships to prestigious programs, Photoshopping their headshots for speaking engagements, picking the perfect business suit colors to garner authority, running way too many nonprofits and organizations, practicing their 10-second personal pitches, and yes, of course, looking put-together as pie. Many of these talented girls happen to be beautiful, as is the case with that rare type of "Supergirl" drive/talent/excessiveness, but I'll be damned if they are out in clubs with babydoll dresses listening to top 40 and drinking watermelon martinis, or whatever the hell those are. And I'll be damned if all of them are colorful skirt-wearing, heterosexual-subscribing, upper-middle class, chick-lit reading, Girl Power enthusiasts. Many of these "Supergirls" are just really successful people who DO need to "stop and smell the roses," as Funk would say. Not hyper-feminized goody goody girly girls.
The objectification of the female body and the subsequent effect it has on girls (anorexia, bulimia, debilitating low self-esteem, insecurity, etc.) is a HUGE issue, but it is NOT the "Supergirl" issue. Like the "Supermom" issue, it's DIFFERENT from the intellectual/academic/professional overachieving issue. Look at the women winning Fulbrights, personally assisting Obama in their mid twenties, the valedictorians of the Ivy Leagues, the women achieving things NOT on behalf of womanhood, but on behalf of humanhood. In my mind, true "Supergirls" have bigger things to worry about than body image insecurities, as these completely fall to the wayside of academic and professional success. They exist, but they are NOT at the core of perfectionism and over-achievement.
A little more research on Funk revealed that she falls into the collective feminist voice that speaks "Wow, women really CAN be smart, beautiful and successful." Once she, and other new-wavers stop acting so surprised that women can be better-than-average, perhaps this world will be a better place for all humans, regardless of sex or gender.
Funk is clearly bright, but not brilliant with this publication. I was very upset after reading a few chapters and skimming through the rest, because I bought it based on my desire to improve my life by not being such an overachieving stressball myself. I am returning this book to Borders, today. It did not help me, at all. I continue with my struggle to relax and accept myself as not being perfect.
I predict the following types of girls will connect and identify with this book: average, hardworking girls who try REALLY hard to get good grades, get into a decent enough college, LOVE pink, look nice for the boys, are conflicted between traditional roles of women and their achievements, and seem popular on Facebook. They're not movers and shakers. They're really good conformers.
True female geniuses, overachievers, lesbians, rags-to-riches, brilliant rabble-rousers, the ones who are more humanist than feminist? These are only a few demographics that this book completely ignores. I want to hear about more about THESE women. Not autobiographical chick lit. Hyper-feminine women are only a part of the female demographic, especially the over-achieving ones.
Before I close, I'd like to mention that I skimmed some later paragraphs in search of some retribution for Funk, but instantly came across a "you/your" typo, and shut the book for the last time. That was enough for me.
Liz, if you read this, please do not hesitate to contact me regarding this review.
[...]
