Nothing gets me into the holiday spirit quite like a good ol’ chick lit, especially if the said chick lit features the one and only Bridget Jones.

I have to hand it to Helen Fielding: she managed to create one of the most memorable female characters, one with whom all women can relate, at a certain level. Who didn’t count the daily calories at least once in their life? Who hadn’t fall in love with a player? Who didn’t obsess about Colin Firth? Who didn’t lose track of the alcohol units or of the pieces of chocolate consumed?

Bridget-Jones-Mad-about-The-Boybridget-jones-topita-dupa-el-f374Bridget Jones’  clumsiness is what makes her so adorable. And now she is back with two kids but, unfortunately, without Mark Darcy. However, you shouldn’t let this (sad) detail detract you from reading the book, if you don’t want to miss a good laugh. “Mad About the Boy” is the third installment of one of the most beloved series ever, and, most probably, the last one. Remember: before Sex and the City, there was Bridget Jones Diary.

Almost 20 years have passed from the events in the first book, but things didn’t change as much as you’d expect them to (except for Mark’s death, I mean). Bridget is still being herself, only… older. She is still writing in her trademark diary, scrupulously noting the calories and her Twitter followers. It’s hard for a single mother of two to cope with everyday life and with the progress of technology, but it’s also extremely fun for the readers. Seeing a 50 years-old Bridget trying to flirt her way back on the dating scene is hilarious.

There is Christmas involved and also Daniel, as restless as always. A feast for the hearts longing for optimistic stories, “Mad About the Boy” is Bridget Jones at her finest, but without her finest.

True love might not be for a lifetime, but its memory sure is. Thank you, Bridget, for the ride. I had a blast.

Miss Valery

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