My husband next door is a delightful example of lit chick .. chick lit… flick chick lit.. you know what I mean. Bumbling, clumsy, struggling mum of two Ella lives in a ramshackle farm house in the country, complete with dogs, sheep, husband in the outbuildings and a transsexual chicken. Her sister, in comparison, is beautifully turned out, busy with charity fundraisers and bringing up her two perfect children. Into Ella’s life comes her mother, having left her father, and the gorgeous new gardener Ludo.
Clumsy heroine with perfect sibling – tick. Handsome new love interest – tick. Amusing plotline complete with heroine embarrassing herself at every turn – tick. Oh and the obligatory happy ending – tick. Sounds familiar?
On the surface, My Husband Next Door is generically identical to so many other books of the same genre. And really, there’s nothing wrong in this. I like a book where I know what is going to happen, and how the book is going to pan out. I have nothing against an amusing romp in the countryside with chickens, hens and a disagreeable mother. And I defy anyone not to smirk on various occasions throughout the book. Once I thought I knew what the book was about, I settled into it with an air of amusement and relaxation. And yet, once the book gets going, I was able to forget all about the stereotypes and enjoy it for what it was. Ella’s troubled relationship with her husband gets given far more description and page time than I would have thought, and actually turned out to be far more interesting and surprising than I would have given the book credit for. Overall, the book was able to add depth to characters which I thought would remain 2d. I won’t lie and pretend the book doesn't end how you expect it to, but the journey to get there was enjoyable and fun.
No comments:
Post a Comment