Feminista

Ms. Kennedy has taken her writing skills to another level. Can't wait for her next book!! You can tell that she took her time writing this novel. For it shows. The heroine is VERY FUNNY and there is a SURPRISE in the last chapter that I did not see coming. Good job!!!

Why I Decided To Read It: I loved Erica Kennedy's first novel, the hip-hop roman a clef, BLING, and I've basically been waiting for her to write another novel for over four years now. What's It About: It's about a writer, trying to find the perfect mate.I know what you're thinking: Isn't all chicklit about a writer trying to find the perfect mate? Same ole. Same ole. But in this case you're wrong. See below. What Makes It Different: The main character, Sydney Zamora, has an extremely strong personality. She's also smart and (gasp!) a feminist. Also, the love interest is complicated in a way that you'd expect a scion to be complicated in real life -- but they're rarely depicted this way in other chick lit and women's fiction. What I Loved: I can't remember the last time I read something romantic with a main character that described herself as a feminist. How refreshing. I also like that she was a complicated feminist and seemed to live by her own rulebook for Feminism. Plus, she's mean. I love mean women. Also, the book is laugh-out-loud funny and really readable to the point where I had trouble putting it down. I really hope that Ms. Kennedy doesn't make us wait another four years for her next novel. What I Didn't Like: Well, I found Sydney Zamora unlikeable, b/c she didn't seem to like anybody else. She had a problem with every single woman and man she came in contact with and was incredibly judgmental. Usually that would stop me reading, BUT in this case the character was so complex, and the writing was so good, that I kept on turning pages to the end. All in all, I would say that Sydney Zamora is extremely compelling if not immensely likeable.

In the hundreds of books I've read over the years, there have only been 2 books in my life that I've read everywhere. I mean everywhere. On the subway, in the bathtub, and in the express line at Whole Foods...everywhere. Feminista is one of them. The heroine, Sydney Zamora, is so familiar she could pass for a not-so-distant relative. You know her. You go to Momofuku's for drinks with her. And she shows up at every family function, inspiring you to give your boss the "I Quit" line you've been too scared to shout at him on Monday morning. There came a time while reading the book that I just wanted to skip past the chapters, and read the last few pages. It was killing me to know if Sydney and Max would work out; if I would be supplied with the standard ending to all American fairytales that even feministas seemed to want to see. (Didn't we all secretly root for Carrie & Big to go off in the sunset?) Without giving away the ending, I was pleasantly surprised with the author's perspective of a woman being capable of "having it all" on her terms. Sydney is the post modern-Helen Gurley Brown, and we love her for it.

I couldn't put Feminista down. As a former lit prof, I could see at least an article maybe two, about it. I've been turning it over in my mind and wondering what was so compelling. In truth, I am not sure I like Sydney. Would I want her as a girlfriend? Probably not. My husband of 22 years has more than once told me that I am not a nice person. I acknowledge that for me, being respected, even feared, is often more important than being liked, particularly when I was younger and the world seemed so unsure of the abilities of women of color. In that way, in addition to her weight, hair and perfection issues, Sydney is like me and so many other women, especially women of color: not just taking what we can get, but getting what we can take. Does that make us likeable? Who's got time to care? The character of Sydney is bold in that way. Yet, part of the reason I couldn't put the book down is because I was rooting for her, hoping that she could find meaning beyond herself. At the end of book, the jury was still out. Kennedy's style is witty, sharp, irreverent. The narrator seems slightly more jaded, a bit more hip than Sydney herself. The characterizations were hilarious and insightful, reflecting Sydney's ambivalence about a life surrounded by and immersed in society's elite. And therein lay my hope for more meaning for your heroine. She recognized the shallowness and stood on the verge of rejecting it. For that, we owe the character/spirit of her dad, the principled man of color. Thanks, for a fun and compelling read.

So, i keep hearing this book described as "bitch lit," a title I appreciate and welcome, like "dick flick," for its evocative and tongue in cheek twist on a popular phrase. But I didn't actually think the main character Sydney was a bitch. She was certainly more... prickly than your average romantic novel heroine, but imho it wasn't as simple as that. Sydney is trying to work out her politics in a messy world which doesn't always cooperate with her, and rather than branding her a bitch I found myself empathizing with that aspect of her personality. Given the title and blurbage of the book, I expected a successful, fashionable heroine with strong feelings about independence and feminism, who does not want to shape herself according to male expectation; sure enough Sydney shows herself to be a woman who has internalized and identified with her politics, feels like the world is not entirely on her side, and has never found a man with whom she could let her guard down. Her search for such a man forms the crux of the story, and as the book chronicles her steps and stumbles I think it totally works as light romantic lit - the people are beautiful, well-off, successful, and inhabit a world of glamor gossip and high fashion. There are fancy expensive restaurants, designer shoes, the occasional heiress. Therapists, celebrity matchmakers, and fabulous parties. But there's more here, too. And what makes it refreshing is the main character's nontraditional - even borderline resentful - relationship with these typical ingredients, as well as the other things her prickly personality bring to the table. Sydney's conflict about her tokenism, her relationship to food and to her body, her discomfort with her salary and the 'complicated relationship to luxury goods' that is central to the story all bring up concepts of class, race, and gender which are more than a character ordinarily has to reconcile within the pages of light romantic fare - and I think Kennedy does an excellent job of portraying Sydney's struggles to figure it all out. She needs not just a great man, after all, but one with whom she can be herself, prickles and all. Modern, savvy, thinking women have to make these kinds of social and political negotiations constantly, all while navigating the intersecting matrices of race, class, sexuality, and of course gender. I think Kennedy inserts these ideas quite smoothly into a new-millenium girl-meets-boy story in a way that brings them up and respects them, but also protects the story from getting too heavy to fly under its own snarky power. The book remains a page turner, with story angles shifting left and right, lots of humor, and a rollicking pace that is maintained up to the very end. It's light, but not fluffy, with a little something to chew on.