Kirkus Reviews
1.00 or Euro 1.27 of every copy of this book sold goes to Bernardo's, an UK charity for children, and the Society of St Vincent de Paul in Ireland, a charity aimed at helping the poor. The preface has a sob story about some poor, homeless single mother teenager finding love and self-esteem via social welfare.
Then can someone tell me why the hell do so many authors in this anthology write about women letting men trample all over them in the name of "I Need A Man Before I Hit 30 NOW"? Are they all running for a spot in Irish politics? They have the doublespeak down pat. Kudos to Mary Ryan, especially, for contributing a story about victimization that culminates in a drug-induced date rape of a too-stupid-to-live heroine. "Tina", the single mother teen in the preface, must be thrilled to read the novella when she gets her complimentary copy.
Actually, Irish Girls About Town isn't a fully chick-lit anthology. The stories here run gamut across various genres, from macabre to drama to humor. Predominantly, the chick-lit authors hog the limelight by their sheer number, but there are some surprises here and there.
Take Maeve Binchy's Carissima. A Beaches-like tale of friendship, women playing doormats, and other jolly fun stuff, "Ms Too Good To Be Called Romance Author" Binchy here writes as if she craps this stuff out while she was asleep. Either that or the spirit of Cassie Edwards has possessed her. Slow, clumsy, clunky, and completely devoid of any of the elegant prose I hear Binchy is famous for, Carissima is so badly written that it's quite shocking. I mean, gee, it's Maeve Binchy, people.
Romantic suspense author Gemma O'Connor blends Hitchcockian macabre and anti-French pariochia in Your Place Or Mine?. What happens when silly Irish folks move to a French farmland where the residents have secrets of their own? This one is cute, especially how it sticks it deep to the Frenchies as well as the Irish when portraying their follies. Ms O'Connor obviously practices equal opportunity and I like that.
I love Marian Keyes' Soulmates, the only unashamedly and most honest piece about jealousy and bitchiness. Compared to the other "This is romantic because here I am, a woman, clinging on to a man who does me wrong but hey, I HAVE to have him because I won't get any other man if I let him go, and... and... hey, put down that gun, please, no no NOOOO!" nonsense in this anthology, Soulmates is a lovely and short piece of fluff. Georgia and Joel are soulmates. They are both beautiful, perpetually rich and successfully, have great fashion sense, are the epitome of cool, and they are the Best Heterosexual Couple ever. Right? Their friends, envious and seething with jealousy, sit back and smile even as they wait for the downfall of the Most Perfect Heterosexual Couple Ever. But will that ever happen?
It does, but it does in a hilarious way that makes the jealous friends stumped and flabbergasted. Let's just say even when they break down in style, Joel and Georgia are still the Most Perfect Heterosexual Couple ever. I hate them. Let me join the "friends" and bitch about them too. Heh.
I love chick lit stuff when they are open about their malice and bitchiness.