Thirty-five, fit and solvent with children at school and the sweet scent of freedom in my nostrils, I was ripe for it... What has transformed Harriet Blair, contented wife and mother and bestselling author of torrid hothistoricals into a rampant vamp?Could it be the arrival in sleepy Basset Parva of Constantine Ghikas, blond Greek god and latest addition to the local medical practice?
With husband George safely marooned in the Middle East, Harriet feels the Fates have conspired to throw a real-life romantic hero in her path. But her carefully staged seduction scenes are thwarted by the unwitting sabotage of family and friends. Not to mention the demands of her publishers, panting for the new masterpiece...
Hell-bent on indulging her dishonourable intentions, Harriet lurches from crisis to hilarious crisis,delighting and entertaining everyone who has ever cast a greedy eye over forbidden fruit...
I suffered through this very tedious book thinking there was going to be a point to it. The Daily Mirror said it's "Funnier than Tom Sharpe". I don't know who Tom Sharpe is but that's not a recommendation for him then.
The synopsis is pretty much- selfish middle-aged woman who writes terrible romance stories for a living embarks on an extra-marital affair. Despite her angsting the guy is an easy lay (at least the book is realistic I guess). Despite her trying to present this as some sort of "liberated" behaviour the sex upholds gender stereotypes and the man consistently has the upper hand. On p247 she discusses his uncaring attitude to whether they get caught. Yeah. Cause he will be less shamed and blamed than her if they do get caught, the one with less risk is acting selfishly. Not much of an observation that.
There is a predictable "twist" (half-twist maybe because so hackneyed) at the end which again contains traces of internalised misogyny (there are actual anti-feminist comments earlier in the book). All in all this seems like and example of the "raunch culture" of the 90s where some people wrongly advanced an idea that hypersexualising women (without changing inequitable gendered social and sexual roles and expectations) would somehow deliver a less boring equality than the feminist fun-police.
The book also contains a persistant classism that I think is being played for humour but it's hard to be sure when it falls so far short of actually cracking a smile. There are also a few fleeting racist comments in passing. There is no overt homophobia at least (probably because any queering is too far alien for this author's world-view). The book also contains many excerpts from the protagonists romance-novel which I think are intentionally bad (I think). I suspect that is played for humour but I know that writing that badly is always funnier and more enjoyable than reading someone else's efforts and while I can't blame the author for being so self-indulgent the editor probably should have put her foot down more. It's possible I've misunderstood the intent here and they are meant to be some sort of parallel to the author's own lovelife.
I don't mean my criticisms to come across as prudishness. I don't have an issue with polyamory, the problem here is the cheating, lying, objectifying, self-objectifying, lack of respect and if I am completely honest more the fact that I was bored than disapproving. If you are going to write about an extra-marital affair then the plot needs to move faster, the sex-scenes need to be less wham, bam, see you in half a page for more ma'am. Characters need to be at least a little bit 3 dimensional (at least someone somewhere) and some plot point should be less predictable or contain a fresh insight at SOME point.
If you want to feel that someone else's life is even more boring and meaningless than your own this book could help...but probably you should consider anti-depressants or therapy instead. Did I mention I didn't like it?
The trilogy Hot Breath, Cold Feet, and Foreign Parts are outstanding. Sarah's storytelling and keen observational humour had me laughing out loud. Her book's characters and the villages they inhabit are entirely believable and relatable. She often says what we would all be thinking (Gareth's friends coming around to play pool "Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink").
My sister and I had the wonderful opportunity to meet Sarah at a book signing in Cleckheaton, West Yorkshire, and she was so gracious when we fawned all over her!
It's a bit dated as far as the 1980s sexual attitudes are concerned, but this book is like eating a big box of chocolates. Funny and absurd in places with a cast of nutty characters. I like that unlike some modern women's fiction, this isn't an improve the woman/marriage type of novel, the main character doesn't have some sort of revelation and there's very little angst about the affair.