A Dive into "Good in Bed" by Jennifer Weiner: Not Quite the Cotton-Candy Romance I Expected
Every so often, I crave a delightful escape into the realm of chick-lit, where the heroines are relatable, the romance is sweet, and the banter keeps me chuckling. Naturally, when I saw Jennifer Weiner’s "Good in Bed," I was excited. However, as I turned the pages, it quickly became clear that this wasn’t the light-hearted romp I’d yearned for. Instead, I found myself on a journey that was far more complex, and not entirely what I had hoped.
The story centers around Cannie Shapiro, a big, bold woman who wrestles with her self-image in a world that’s less than forgiving. At 5’10" and a size 16, she is both relatable and real—but much of her internal dialogue is steeped in self-deprecation. While it’s great to see representation for plus-size women, I was taken aback by how often Cannie seemed to wallow in her insecurities, spending an overwhelming amount of time concerned about her weight. This was quite contrary to my expectations of a light-hearted read filled with teasing banter and uplifting romance.
Weiner crafts a narrative that’s entangled with a family dynamic that resembles a soap opera more than a straightforward chick-lit romance. Cannie’s life is filled with quirky characters—a celebrity best friend, a troubled past with her absent father, and an ex-boyfriend named Bruce Guberman, who appears to be the poster child for self-pity. Bruce, a pot-smoking columnist, writes about Cannie in a way that may resonate with some readers, but for me, he quickly became an irritating character who overshadowed the book’s potential romantic interest, Peter Krushelevansky.
Peter, the “nice” guy whom Cannie ends up with, is just as charming as he is underdeveloped; his presence seemed more like a backdrop to Cannie’s chaotic emotions and situations rather than a genuine romance. I felt for him, caught in a drama laden with unfulfilled promises and unresolved conflicts.
Weiner’s writing style is engaging, filled with a blend of humor and introspection. Yet, I found that the pacing suffered from an overabundance of plot twists that left me scratching my head. The inclusion of Cannie’s postpartum struggles felt rushed and underexplored, which hindered the book from feeling cohesive. Ultimately, the narrative left me frustrated, longing for the witty exchanges and straightforward romance that had drawn me in at first.
One of the quotes that lingered with me was Bruce’s remark about Cannie being “difficult to love.” While this initially felt like a harsh judgment, it encapsulated Cannie’s journey toward self-acceptance—though I wish it had been explored with more nuance.
In conclusion, "Good in Bed" is a mishmash of themes that sometimes clash and detract from the story’s potential. If you enjoy character-driven narratives filled with family drama and self-discovery, this may resonate with you. However, if you’re seeking a delightful romance or an easy breezy read, this may leave you feeling a bit deflated. While my reading experience didn’t quite match my expectations, I appreciate Weiner’s intention to tackle complex themes in her writing. For others, it might just be a different story altogether—one to ponder, reflect upon, and perhaps relate to in unexpected ways.
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