Shopaholic on the Blog

I've just finished Sophie Kinsella's Confessions of a Shopaholic, the first in her Becky Bloomwood series. It is quite obviously designed to capitalize on the Bridget Jones success – another goofy, mistake-ridden, socially awkward British girl being rescued by a rich man. (Bridget Jones itself is, of course, a knockoff on that all-time world-class romance Pride and Prejudice.) Don't take my description as judgment, however: I'm a fan of escapist fiction and have no need for my beach reads to possess any kind of political correctness, proper feminist attitudes, or (truthfully) much intelligence at all. That said, however, Shopaholic was a painful read at times.

There's nothing wrong with the story – Becky Bloomwood is incredibly financially irresponsible. She hides letters and past-due notices from her bank and then pretends they don't exist, while she trips out to do more shopping on all of her credit cards for items she doesn't need. She sets up meetings with her irate banker only to skip out on them, and invents fantastic reasons as to why she cannot possibly pay her bill or even return their phone calls. She's also a wannabe journalist or beauty magazine editor stuck working for various financial publications.

Enter Luke Brandon, of Brandon Communications, a high-powered PR executive who is both sexy (of course) and ruthlessly competitive (why not?). Becky writes a piece for a British tabloid exposing a ripoff perpetrated by one of Luke's clients, and she goes on a morning television show to defend her column in a live debate with Luke. I won't give any more of the plot away, but you can imagine its predictable outcome.

The painful aspect of the book doesn't come from its obvious girl-meets-boy storyline – Becky's character is funny and amusing, if a little dumb sometimes and a somewhat habitual liar. What's hard to read is the pain, panic, and denial of being in financial straits. I'm sure we can all relate to Becky's panic when she realizes that the ten or twenty pounds she thought she'd spent on one card or another turns out to be five hundred (and there's card after card with such balances) while her bank overdraft grows and grows. Who hasn't been there at one time or another, even if not to such an extreme degree? (Reminds me of the Nicki storyline in the first season of Big Love. The one that never resolved itself.)

The recent spate of chick lit novels have dealt with all sorts of heavy and uncomfortable topics, like body image, relationships with mothers, lack of personal achievement, dysfunctional spouses and siblings, and rebellious children. As more and more people go further into debt, the money problems raise conflicts we can all relate to even if it makes us squirm.

Still, Becky's reactions are comically extreme, and the resolution of her problems – making more money (or MMM, as her dad says) is actually a nicer solution than the "Luke takes her away and pays for everything" ending I'd anticipated – even if it remains just a little too good to be true.

All in all, the book was an enjoyable though fluffy read – a story that amused and entertained, primarily through the lovableness of the characters. Becky doesn't mean to lie, she doesn't mean to spend so much, and she never buys without a reason! And her large-hearted roommate Suze is the ultimate supportive girlfriend. I enjoyed the book even though I found myself thinking as I read that, with such simple characters and storylines, I could probably write something at least that good. And it's the first in a series of Shopaholic books, so you can expect future discussion of Becky Bloomwood on these pages.

Confessions of a Shopaholic, by Sophie Kinsella

Category: Chick lit

Pros: Memorable characters, funny occurrences, excellent supportive girlfriend, great parents who don't add to the angst (NOTHING like Bridget Jones's mother)

Cons: Rote romance storyline, not enough character development of Luke, discomfort of confronting financial denial, too-good-to-be-true ending*

Rating: three out of five

*Which turns out to not be quite the end of things, if you read the next book.