I need to rant about the book I’m reading right now. I originally noticed it years ago while working at the bookstore and was taken by the luscious legs on the front cover. The book was a great seller and was always faced out on the shelf to attract attention, so I would often happen upon the legs and give them a quick admiration while putting other books away.
It’s called Jemima J, although I used to accidentally call it Jemina J in my head, pronounced JEM-inna, because my brain evidently blocked me from thinking a woman could be named after a brand of maple syrup. Anyway, I suddenly remembered the book the other day, procured a copy, and finally read it after all these years.
And it turns out it’s horrible. Not just horribly written, although it is that, despite the main character claiming in the first few pages that she has a real way with words. But mostly, it’s just written by what must be a horrible person. Author Jane Green’s anti-heroine hates herself, calls herself disgusting, talks about how much others pity her, has no social life, can’t get ahead at her job, avoids the mirror, and can barely speak to her beautiful roommates. All because she’s fat.
And that’s fine. Maybe some overweight people actually do feel that way. Maybe some overweight people actually consider backing out of rooms just so their hunky co-workers can’t see their humongous backsides. And Jemima does have a humongous backside. She eats bacon sandwiches for breakfast, mayonnaisey salads for lunch, and entire sleeves of cookies after dinner to deal with her emotions, and every time she steps into a room, people stare at her, because she’s so freaking massive. Or so we’re led to believe.
At one point, after we’ve listened to this superficial, spectacularly boring narrator go on and on about how her life would be perfect if she was a size 8–apparently this was the model-thin in the year 2000–the author finally reveals her weight: 204 pounds. Which is a size–what? 14? 12?! I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t seem like the end of the world to me. But according to the author, Jemima has a double or triple chin (Can someone explain to me how a triple chin would look?), can’t walk down the street without having to stop to pound down a thousand calories or so, and can barely be contained in clothing. And she’s never had a boyfriend, because who could date someone that fat?!
Oh, oh, and here’s the better part: when Jemima finally decides she wants to get “healthy”, she joins a gym and stops eating. And gets down to 120 pounds in a couple of months! Yaaaaay, Jemima! Yaaaaay, eating disorders!
I’m sure there’s some really important lesson at the end of the book about being happy with yourself and not meeting creepy guys on the Internet and sending them Photoshopped pictures of your head on a magazine model’s body, but I’ll never know, ’cause I ain’t finishing this crap. My only consolation is that I didn’t pay for it.
32 Comments
i read this book years and years ago as a recommendation from a friend. as i recall, there is a happy “love yourself as you are” kind of ending. i don’t want to give away any spoilers (as i know you’re just DYING to get through the rest of it), but eventually she realizes that not everyone is as shallow as she is and being a size 14 isn’t the end of the goddamn world.
i remember kind of enjoying the book when i read it, but i think i hated myself a lot more then and was hoping that, i too, could develop an eating disorder, drop down to 120 pounds and land “the man of my dreams”. turns out, the men i like aren’t men who like 120-pound waifish women. yay me!
It must have been a lot less funny reading it “years and years ago”. Since half of it is talking about how novel dial-up Internet is, it seemed so ridiculous in this age where we all have faster-than-dial-up Internet on our phones.
I just thought the book was totally unrealistic and shallow, and I’m glad you’re done with your hoping-for-an-eating-disorder days. I did end up finishing the thing and was just really grossed out that Jemima would even want to be with Ben after finding that he suddenly loves her now that she’s thin. As much as I think it’s strange when thin men date less-thin women, I’m glad it happens, and I wouldn’t want to date anyone who didn’t love me at whatever my size.
I am confusing myself by knowing this as I haven’t read the book, but the author’s English, right? So if this heroine is a UK 14, she’s like an American 10 at the largest which makes this extra funny. YAY vanity sizing! America!
Anyway, when I saw the title I was really hoping this would be about She’s Come Undone, which is the very worst book about some fat chick I have ever read. Other people seem to disagree.
At the end of the book, which I did end up finishing, she becomes a U.K. size 10 (a U.S. size 8, I guess?), and the author acts like she’s still overweight but has accepted her fate as a fatty. Awesome.
I used to see She’s Come Undone at the store all the time–it was apparently really popular, too–and thought about reading it, but I’m glad I didn’t. I need to stick to my prize-winners and my Twilights.
I had the EXACT same response when I read this several years ago. I think I got to right around where you seem to be in the book before I literally threw it across my bedroom. I’ve never just STOPPED reading a book before. I kept thinking, there is no effing way this woman is as “huge” as they make her seem, and then I read the number, only about 20 lbs heavier than I was, and threw the damn book. Screw you, Jemima J, and you too, Jane Green.
I wish I could’ve thrown my Kindle when I read that! But I somehow feel like having to buy another one would’ve let Jane win. Part of me kept thinking, “Well, maybe this is just how Jemina views herself, and all of society actually thinks she looks just fine.” But no, she really did seem to be friendless and invisible, except when people were gawking at her size.
Ha, I was going to echo what your friend Kim said…it’s very similar to She’s Come Undone. Which is just a really crazy book and the girl is like 350+ pounds but somehow loses all this weight and ends up beautiful and 130 pounds.
“Really crazy” good or “really crazy” awful? It gets four stars out of five with over 1000 ratings on Amazon, but with the popularity of Jemima J, it seems there are a lot of self-hating fat people who want to live vicariously through others’ weightloss, so I don’t trust it.
Weight standards are SO interesting to me. Even though it’s pretty much common knowledge now that the average American woman is a size 14 or so, I still don’t think people have any concept of how many pounds average women weigh. Actual pounds only seem to be brought up in pop culture when anorexics or weight-loss show contestants are being discussed, so we only get to hear about extremes and not norms.
I will NEVER forget that time I told you about a few years ago when the guys at work were teasing one of our coworkers, joking about how his girlfriend was “probably some 200-pound cow”. I spoke up, saying, “You realize I weigh 206, right?” And they totally didn’t believe me. (I have to admit that I probably only felt confident outing my weight in that situation because these were guys who flirted with me relentlessly, so I assumed that if they thought I was even remotely attractive, they might be interested in knowing that I was heavier than this weight they were making out to be grotesquely obese.)
This book sounds as maddening as Bridget Jones’ Diary. I don’t care if Renee Zellweger DID gain a bunch of weight to play that role. Her character’s “fatness” was still pretty far-fetched.
One last thing. Should I NOT be eating bacon sandwiches, mayonnaisey salads, and entire sleeves of cookies? Because this is news to me.
Hey, you know I support your eating of bacon sandwiches, mayonnaisey salads, and entire sleeves of cookies. Especially the mayonnaisey salads part, since you don’t even like mayo. But I think you should put some chicken and cheese on that sandwich and just eat raw cookie dough. All of these raw-food-diet people would be pleased to know how much uncooked dough we’ve eaten over the years.
I think you’re right about extremes. I notice women who are way fatter and way thinner than I am all of the time, but it’s strange when I stop and look around and notice that a whole lot of people are just pretty average. It also makes a difference when I look around; if it’s on the bus in the morning, there are a lot of larger women, but if it’s at a restaurant on a Saturday night, I’m usually one of the fattest women there. SO WEIRD. Maybe fat women do just stay indoors when they can.
I love your work story! I really think you should submit that to a women’s magazine.
I read this book shortly after it came out and I have to admit that I enjoyed it. I did lots of eye rolling and snorting but it was a sort of cute fluffy story. Maybe I just didn’t look too deeply into it.
Well, I think a lot of it depends on where you’re coming from. If you’re a fat person who has felt the way Jemima does, or if you’re a thin person who thinks that’s probably how fat people feel, I can see it being an amusing read. But for me, an overweight person who doesn’t really get the big deal and would be horrified to find out that people pity me or avoid me because I’m not a size 2, it was way more sad than funny. But hey, I don’t fault you for being able to not take the book personally.
The only thing I know about this book is that there was a big stink over the legs on the cover, because let’s face it, those are hot legs, and not the legs of some obese woman. Though, now that you give her dimensions, I realize that she really isn’t some obese woman.
Glad I’ll never be tempted to pick that one up.
Well, I’m glad someone was making a stink over the legs, even though it means people had to actually read the book when it came out to know that the legs didn’t match the lady.
I’m sure this was a fun beach read for plenty of people, but it set off my offensive radar so hard.
Katie, you made me LOL!! I think you are missing your calling as book reviewer extraordinaire. I havent read this, nor do I want to, but your description of it is so funny — I think you should read more awful books more often and pan them here, just for the sheer fun of it.
PS: sorry you didn’t like the book. it sounds awful. do like me and just stick to cookbook. you get to enjoy as much food as you like, and no one ever says a word encouraging you NOT to eat wholeheartedly & with gusto.
XO
Too bad it means actually wasting my time with crappy books to be able to review them! Maybe I’ll just read the Cliff Notes and review those; they’ll probably be better-written.
I wonder how a cookbook on a Kindle would work out. Can you see me lugging the Silver Spoon cookbook on the bus every morning? Ha!
I’ve never read this book, but I’m fairly certain my wife checked it out from our library once… that cover is definitely an attention grabber / memorable! :)
Women all over the world are being sucked in by those luscious legs, only to find out they’re reading a book about how gross said legs are supposed to look! Ridiculous.
This is the most amazing book review I’ve ever read. Apparently now, as Americans, our average weight is 185. So she’s only a little over the average. Above average, if you will.
Why are women so annoying?
I really think that getting fat or being fat is, like, the #1 concern for a lot of women, so it’s like actually seeing our worst fears manifested in someone else is too much for us to handle and our hate reflex kicks in. I’d like to write a book about a happy fat chick with a great life, but I’m sure no one would read it.
I *totally* would read a book like that! Do it! :)
Ugh. I remember when Kirstie Ally was being shown on the cover of tabloids when she was HUGE and the tagline read – 203 pounds! What a joke. She was 250 pounds if anything at all! She had CANKLES for Christ’s sake!
I weigh 170 now, and I am a size 10. I have been as heavy as 196 (not counting when I gave birth at 218 five months ago) and I was only a size 12 at that point. I am only 5’7″. Any time I’ve told people my weight, they totally don’t believe me either. I guess people are so misled by magazines like the one I mentioned above, that those numbers become ingrained as gospel. And I hate when I hear a small woman claim to be 98 pounds or some ridiculous shit because she is terrified someone will THINK her weight sounds fat, when clearly she is probably closer to 115 and looks fine.
Books like this make me stabby. I’d probably slap the shit out of this author if I ever met her.
You’d think a tabloid would want to say she weighs even more for the full shock value! But I guess if everyone thinks 200 pounds is the kind of weight that necessitates a crane lift through the roof every time you want to leave the house, it doesn’t matter if you say 203 or 303.
I love that even models are supposed to lie about their weight and dimensions. It’s no wonder you have “regular” women claiming to be 98 pounds. And weight looks so different on everyone, too, that it’s ridiculous to think you know anything about anyone. I wasn’t a size 10 at 170 pounds, and my best friend looks two sizes smaller than I do when we weigh exactly the same. Maybe I should start claiming to be 98 pounds and just say that I wear it badly.
I agree. My size 10 at 170 was a co-worker’s size 14 at the same weight. Of course, she was 5’1″ or 5’2″, but still. Weight should just be thrown out the window. It really has no correlation to how big a person is or isn’t.
Also, when I was 9-months pregnant and 218 pounds, I could still wear my size 12 stuff (like stretchy pants, etc). I think weight is just carried differently on everyone.
I still stand by my argument that Kirstie Ally weighed more than 203 pounds, though. ;)
This is why, with the notable exceptions of Bridget Jones’ Diary and The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood (What?! I’m from Louisiana! I HAD to read it!), I stay as far away from chick lit as humanly possible. It usually makes me homicidal.
No kidding! I had no idea what the books other women were reading were like, and now I’m horrified. I’m going back to my highbrow, impossible-to-understand stuff.
Why is it always the fat girls that supposedly need the lessons on self-love? I know plenty of skinny minis who hate their bodies and punish themselves if they gain so much as a pound, but no one ever writes stories about them.
Yeah, really! Hey, society, if you didn’t force everyone over 120 pounds to hate themselves, we wouldn’t need the self-love books! Of course the one time Jemima overate after she was thin, she conveniently had to throw it up and never gained an ounce.
If you do decide to start the “books that suck ass” terrible review blog, I’m in. I have a review of the crappiest book I’ve ever finished: A reliable wife. Unrelated subject matter, but I like panning books that suck.
Funny that I’ve never of that book despite it being a bestseller. Guess I don’t hang in crappy-book-reading circles. UNTIL I MET YOU. (Ignore that weird tense problem there.)
The description sounds pretty terrible, but I like the train on the cover. I don’t think I need another blog, but I do need you to write this review, anyway.
Wow, I have a lot of thoughts on this and am having trouble figuring out where to start.
Okay, first of all, what a horrendous-sounding book. Blech! I read what I guess would be called women’s lit, but it’s usually sci-fi/fantasy/historical/futuristic stories with romances in them. The pic of the legs on the front would turn me OFF of reading that, actually. Not sure why.
Secondly, I am a whopping 5’2″ so every ounce shows in width and breadth on me.
I’ve been guilty (am right now, actually) of fearing the “200 zone” – I got seriously close to that number (like a few pounds away) a year or so ago and have been trying to avoid it since.
I agree w/Andrea that it’s totally a made-up line in the sand. 200 looks different on everybody, though I don’t believe for a second that Kirstie Alley was only a bit over that mark in those pics.
I think the problem for a lot of us is that we used to be smaller, so we have that image of a more lithe physique in our heads when looking in the mirror. I was a size 5 (Junior sizes) from like 8th grade to my late 20s. I’m not saying it to brag, I’m saying it to show that the difference of the two figures is staggering for me, even though I may not seem huge to other people.
I’m trying to approach dealing with my size from two angles: 1) Love where I am – accept that my hubby is still attracted to me and that I’m not ridiculously abnormal – and let myself be happy in my NOW-body – dress for the curves I have now instead of just camouflaging it and look for the positives, and 2) Get healthier without being stupid – add in some exercise, try to stay on the path of healthyish food, but let myself enjoy dessert and being a couch potato now and then.
Great post!
Jemima J is a terrible book- i agree. Also, She’s Come Undone is equally bad- if not moreso. Horribly, bad. And I had high expectations for that one, becasue lost of “feminists” and women’s studies folks used to cite it as their “afves” on myspace and whatnot ;-)
Also for a lighter read with a large protaganist, check out “Good in Bed” by Jennifer Weiner. I love her stuff.