Happy

Years ago, I purchased a book called Thin Is The New Happy, by Valerie Frankel. I do not remember when or why I bought it, so it's impossible to really know where my head was at. My guess is that the copy on the back appealed to me. A blurb by writer Jen Lancaster says, "Val Frankel's Thin Is The New Happy proves that coming to terms with one's body image might not be easy, but is definitely poignant and hilarious." Unnecessary comma aside, that's a decent endorsement. All women struggle to come to terms with their body image. And I love hilarity. Who doesn't?

Regardless of why I bought it, I recently decided that it was time to get around to reading it. This doesn't coincide with having finished Eating Animals, another book about food, nor does it relate to anything actually going on in my life right now. As a married almost-33-year-old whose husband is highly complimentary, I've more or less come to terms with my body image. But as I said, hilarity!

The book wasn't as funny as I'd hoped. It had its moments, but mostly it was the stories she told that were funny. In my mind, it's always a writer's style that makes things truly funny: two people can tell the exact same story, and one can be funny while the other is merely amusing. I found Frankel's style amusing. I appreciated her tales of throwing out bad clothes, celebrating delicious meals, and finally realizing that diets had gotten her nowhere, but I wouldn't go so far as to say I laughed out loud.

Part of the problem may have been Frankel's attitudes about some things, particularly sex, which I found highly off-putting. She had sex with an innumerable amount of men in this book and demonstrated exactly zero regret about it. If she had talked much about feminism, I might have understood; traditionally, men are celebrated for plowing their way through their neighborhood's female population, while women are labeled as sluts for doing the same thing with the males. But she didn't mention that, and in any case, I don't think people of either gender should be celebrated for that. The world has gotten way out of whack when it comes to how we think of sex, so it's no surprise that Frankel fits right in. I wasn't necessarily shocked to see it, but it made it harder for me to relate to her, because that's not my life. I don't want to be judgmental, I just don't get it.

In the end, this was not a bad read, but it wasn't a great one either. I guess I like my memoirs a little more engrossing.