Candace Bushnell

Sex and the City is one of my favourite television shows of all time, and yet every time I read the book I’m left feeling a little bit off kilter. The column is witty in an almost cruel way to the foibles of Manhattan’s dating population, where the show comes off as much more comedic and light, but we can see the seeds of germination for the legendary foursome amongst the book’s large cast. Carrie is the most well-defined, eschewing the author/narrator, if only because she has the most show more linear relationship which emerges over the course of the book. As in the series, we see her meet the eponymous Mr. Big and go through many relationship ups and downs before finally leaving him for the single life once again. Carrie may have her moments of insanity in the series, but the book makes her almost impossible to like as we are given very little context for some of her madcap behaviour. Was Carrie a real person that the author knew, a clever way of hiding her own dating mishaps behind a mask, or a personality who was embellished into fiction? I’m sure an answer is out there somewhere, but I think I’ll stick to the slightly more normal Carrie from the show, who inevitably gets her man. show less

As a watcher of the "Sex and the City" series, movies, etc., I enjoyed the show as the fantasy world it is . Four beautiful, very rich women with dream jobs a` la Cosmo, who wear luxurious (though often ridiculous-looking) designer clothing to go to lunch, brunch, and drinks. They are on the prowl for sex with the aim of finding love--though of course the men must be very rich as well. Their get-togethers are a pretext for their dissection of their last date. That's the show, take it or show more leave it.
Having a lot of stress in my life at present, I saw the novel at the Library bookstore for 50 cents. I thought it would be a nice distraction. I can honestly say, contrary to my past experience with adaptations of books, the TV shows are much better than the novel. The front of the book has a quote from "The Sunday Telegraph" that says 'Jane Austen with a martini'. Hardly. Not only are characters flat and indistinguishable from each other, but the whole vibe of the book is cynical and downright depressing. All the women worry about whether they'll find a suitable man before they are 40, and dish about what's wrong with the men they do date. Despite their blatant hunt for marriage material, they viciously criticize those who did manage to find a husband--even as they sit in these married women's houses for baby showers and the like. Terrible. show less

A collection of four loosely linked stories featuring, as the title pronounces, four blondes. The blondes in question are Janey Wilcox (‘Nice ‘n Easy’), a model who isn’t famous enough to call her own shots so she spends most of her time looking for a rich man to take her to the Hamptons every summer; Winnie (‘Highlights’), a brainy columnist who has begun to hate her journalist husband for not being successful enough; Cecilia, (‘Platinum’) a model who marries a European show more prince and is terrified he’s going to leave her; and lastly, an unnamed blonde journalist (‘Single Process’) who trolls London looking for a man because she’s positive that English men have got to be better than American ones.

It’s the ultimate in satire as well as a disturbing look into the many people who really do live such vapid, meaningless, extremely superficial existences, but who are at least sensible enough to be aware of and frightened by their own lack of substance. Bushnell is also the author of Sex and the City, but don’t let that turn you off (as it did me, initially). I haven’t read the book SatC, but after reading this I’d be willing to bet that the few bits I’ve seen of the t.v. show don’t even begin to do the book justice, because Bushnell is absolutely brilliant, scathing and right on the mark when pegging these desperate, pathetic, yet somehow occasionally likeable women. Strange as it may sound, her writing style immediately put me in mind of Bret Easton Ellis, particularly Rules of Attraction and Less Than Zero. Bushnell’s wit and timing is razor-sharp, and I was very pleasantly surprised. show less

Even though this book has some glaring inconsistencies with the Carrie Bradshaw from the original television show (and from the original newspaper column Carrie), I couldn't help but be charmed by the naiveté and burgeoning sass of this high school era Carrie. Here we see her fall in love for the first time with the unattainable bad boy (though Sebastian Kydd has nothing on John James Preston aka Mr. Big), handle wave after wave of drama with her friends, and navigate high school using her show more skills to get where she wants to be in life. Throughout it all, we can see the beginning of the newspaper columnist and sexual anthropologist who she will become after moving to New York, as she sits in the middle of her own relationship dilemmas, offers sage advice to her friends, and observes the social norms of the strange planet that is her small town high school - not unlike the social spheres which she will learn to date amongst, navigate, and befriend as she grows up. Carrie's story is only just beginning here, so we can excuse some of her childish pranks, and by the final scene - wherein we are finally introduced to the infamous Samantha Jones - we are fully invested in being carried away. show less