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42 of 46 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Its Not the Length of the Story; Its How You Use It, April 23, 2001
Generally I'm not a fan of short stories because, all too often, favored stories end too quickly and boring, congested ones go on too long. You strike up a relationship with a character, only to find that the last date is just a few pages away.Melissa Bank solves this problem (as have others) by writing intertwined short stories about the same character: The likeable, funny, and insecure Jane Rosenal. Her relationships with men (and other elusive goals) are the core of this humorous, easy-reading book. It's neither pre- nor post-feminist, just a recognizable woman facing the complexities of love and work. The first story is one of the best: Told from the teenage Rosenal's view, it shows her vicariously experiencing her brother's relationship and break-up with Julia, an upper class, sensitive college student. Bank tells this story with the humor and perception of a J.D. Salinger (but without the Zen undertones). Two of the seven stories deal with Rosenal's relationship with a famous, older, somewhat unconventional editor. Bank is even-handed, as Archie alternates between mentor and monster, self-centered protector and sympathetic victim. He's a concerned, loving partner, but also a publicity conscious show-off, telling stories about Jane as if she were in one of his books. Interwoven with this story is an emotional and very effective look at Jane's parents. The sixth story is a series of vignettes told in a combination of the third ("In post-op, he will tell you he is honored you threw up on him.") and second person ("You see yourself through his eyes, as THE GENERIC WOMAN, the skirted symbol on the ladies' room door"). Here, Banks writes with a faux-tough style that recalls Liz Phair: "Everywhere you go, you see women more beautiful than yourself. You imagine him being attracted to them. You're drinking gasoline to stay warm." Unlike Phair, however, Bank can't buffer her lyrical sentences with music, and the words are imaginative but awkward. It's not clear why they eventually break-up, except that his devotion is purportedly aimed at all women, not Jane specifically. I didn't quite buy it. One other minor complaint: Jane Rosenal is sometimes sitcom glib--the funny lines need a rest sometimes. (We get it, we get it, she's a witty person!). For all the excellent writing ("My devoted friend says,'I don't think you could have felt so strongly if he didn't feel the same way about you.' `I say, "How do you feel about Jeremy Irons"'") there are a few clunkers ("It occurs to me that I may not be the only butterfly whose wings flutter in the presence of his stamen." Well, maybe you like that line.) Finally, there is the excellent title story. Hearing from a friend that she's been trying to catch a man by swimming with him, rather than fishing with a hook and bait, she buys a self-help book, "How to Meet the Man You Want and Marry Him." The two female authors, "Bonnie," and "Faith," become characters in the story, and Jane follows and argues with their advise over how to handle Robert, a (standard poodle loving!) soulmate whom she meets at a wedding. Her guides to "hunting and fishing" advise her to play hard-to-get, because men "are predatory animals who enjoy the hunt." Because of her self-doubt, Jane follows their persistent admonitions to a Pyrric victory, finding that her role-playing is about to lose her "the man I never hoped I could expect." While some reviewers have mentioned that Robert seems a bit one-dimensional, the story really belongs to Jane and her interior conversations with her "man-trapping" guides The book is witty and smart, and captures the ineffable nature of falling in and out of love. Other than the basic themes of love, commitment, and insecurities, it's not really much like "Bridget Jones." Both books are enjoyable, but this has a little more substance. A fabulous book, warm, funny, and real. Very highly recommended!
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