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.
I thought a lot about friendships while reading this book, especially on a complicated world of female friendship. We share so much with each other (probably because we talk so much!) yet we don’t share any at the same time. We get jealous and envious constantly but “I’m so happy for you” is indeed our response most of the time. We get hurt by our friends (both intentionally and unintentionally) but it’s very tricky to confront…. I’m stressed and exhausted just thinking about it! :-) I’m sure men have their own issues with their friendships that we are not aware of but theirs sure do seem very easy and simple.
I related to Wendy somewhat and maybe that’s why I got frustrated a lot while reading this book. I personally didn’t think this book was that well written but it made me think a lot of my own relationships with others and how I feel about them so I suppose in a way it was good.