Smart Bitches, Trashy Book
Beyond Heaving Bosoms:
A Review
As promised, in return for winning an advanced reader copy of the new Smart Bitches book, I present my review of the feisty wench. Part non-fiction, part humor, part scholarly criticism, Beyond Heaving Bosoms was ultimately an enjoyable and often interesting read. [For the purpose of this review, I ignored any ARC formatting issues (and spelling/syntax errors), of which, naturally, there were a couple.]
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First and foremost, the bitchy, profane, chit-chatty narrative voices of authors Sarah Wendell and Candy Tan make for some truly hilarious reading. They maintain a sense of erudition even when writing words like "cracktastic" and "humpin'"; in fact, it's the pervasively sharp intellects of the authors, along with the over-educated-English-lit-major vocabularies, that rescue the book from what, at times, can be silliness.
The table of contents should give the reader a clue about the nature of what's to be found between the covers: chapter headings like "Chapter Codpiece" and "Chapter Bad Sex" provide accurate browsing guidance ("Oh, this chapter is about penises!"). The introduction and preliminary chapters get off to a good start, debunking and exploring romance cliches (like Marvis, the frumpy, fanny-packed Romance Reader, the wilting Heroine of the titular bosoms, and the Alpha Hero, a neat package of punishing kisses, raging temper, total illogic, and buns of steel).
The initial casual tone of the book did, however, throw me for a loop (even as a long-time fan and reader of the Smart Bitches blog, which is nothing if not casual). Referring to readers in the second person--addressing "you," in other words--is a chatty device I am not always on board with. But quickly the book begins to adopt a more scholarly, objective, non-fiction type of voice (think Jon Krakauer in Into the Wild) which reflects the huge amount of thought and research that must have gone into the making of BHB.
Reading about the history of the romance novel was fascinating, and horrifying. As Wendell and Tan deconstruct that age-old romance device ("I love you so much I just can't help myself from raping you"--think Luke and Laura from TV's General Hospital), I began to catch whiffs of English lit theory. And biology class, as when the Bitches rolled their eyes at the copious bleeding that inevitably follows the severing of that most elusive female part, the internal 4-inch thick hymen. Exciting stuff, and not just from the point of view of our easily aroused Hero.
Truth time: I could have done without the many clever games scattered throughout the novel. Perhaps part of the problem is the formatting; I'd be happily reading some very interesting treatise on the decline of the rapist hero, when suddenly a little box appears chattering about rapist hero greeting cards. I found these games to be nothing more than distractions. The authors prove themselves funny, clever, smart (hilarious, even) in the first few pages, and the accompanying cartoonish illustrations lend enough casual vibe to keep the book light even when it gets serious. So these little asides didn't work for me. I know very well, however, that some--if not most--readers will find them welcome and funny additions to the book.
It is when the book delves into the historical, the social, the literary context of the romance genre that things really get going. During these chapters, I had a hard time putting the book down--and my own English major brain was working overtime expounding on the fascinating ideas Wendell & Tan put forth, gathered from authors, the limited scholarship available on romance, and their own very fertile brains. Kudos to them for providing an authoritative text that will undoubtedly help many a scholar in his or her romance research in the days to come; I should dearly love to see BHB cited in an article over on GoogleScholar.
The last bit of the book is pure fun, a series of mad libs, mazes, and "Choose Your Own Mantitty," romance vignettes like those young adult novels wherein you choose your own ending. If BHB had limited all of its games to this one section, I would have embraced the lighter, humorous bits a lot more easily.
Beyond Heaving Bosoms ends with romance predictions for the years to come. Here's mine: any authoress team that can write about trends in literary genres alongside a pretend erotic paranormal entitled The Licking Fucking Sucking Dripping Drumming Darkness is going to be a permanent fixture on the romance scene, and they deserve a big thumbs-up. Or cocks-up. Whatever.
