New York Times
Critics weren't too kind to Marian Keyes the last time around. Her second novel "Lucy Sullivan is Getting Married", a success with book buyers, was a failure with reviewers. Her eponymous heroine was quickly labelled a poor clone of Helen Fielding's irresistible Bridget Jones.
Bits of Bridget resurface in Keyes's latest work, "Rachel's Holiday," a hilarious but poignant novel that is already a bestseller in England. While "Rachel's Holiday" is not the usual frantic-single-woman comedy, it is a coming-of-age, journey of love and self-discovery. This first-person narrative gives a behind-the-scenes glimpse at life in a drug rehabilitation centre. The protagonist, Rachel Walsh, has a penchant for recreational drugs and recreational sex, especially with men sporting tight leather pants. Like the predecessors of her genre, Rachel is a hip single woman who spends inordinate amounts of time obsessing over men and weight. But for her, life in the fast lane is a bit too slow. Luckily, New York City is the perfect place for the transplant from Dublin to indulge - or overindulge. But 2 years after moving to New York, Rachel gets a painful lesson in what it means to have too much fun.
When she wakes up in a hospital emergency room to find herself diagnosed as a suicidal drug addict, she is outraged. As if being dumped by her wonderful boyfriend were not enough, her quirky family flies in from Dublin to hustle her straight to the Cloisters, Ireland's equivalent of the Betty Ford Clinic. She is furious at the idea of being institutionalised with a bunch of addicts, but admits that he life had a way of veering out of control.
After 600 pages and months of drug rehab, readers may expect a dynamic denouement. This is where Keyes falls short. Instead, the ending is a bit too convenient and predictable.