BOOKED Solid

Good in Bed, by Jennifer Weiner, 2001

When I initially picked up Jennifer Weiner’s best-selling first novel, I was in the mood for a quick, easy—maybe a little trashy—beach book. I wanted something I could skim through; I never thought I would get hooked so quickly on this funny, affirming, light-hearted story.

Many women have difficulty making peace with the size or shape of their bodies. Even active, physically fit women will berate themselves for not fitting into a particular size or weighing more than a certain predetermined—and completely irrelevant—number of pounds. Although there have been many novels and movies that have dealt with this issue, they usually involve some major physical transformation, not reasonable acceptance, and nine times out of ten they end up with the perfect life (and man) as a reward for meeting an impossible challenge. I see this in the gay male culture as well. It is difficult to be comfortable with being simply healthy when there appear to be so many thin or “perfect” people in the world. In reality, very few people can look like Gabrielle Reese or that new Abercrombie model, no matter how much exercising and dieting they do.

This is what makes Weiner’s novel different. Cannie, the main character, learns to accept her physical shape, and in the journey to this personal acceptance, discovers she can forgive others who have hurt her in her life as well. Cannie realizes that she has let other people’s disappointment and insecurities—namely her father’s—taint how she views herself. I think this novel really hit home with me, and may with other gay women, because Cannie is not just fat, she is larger than life. She is 5’10” with broad shoulders and big hands—just like me—plus enough extra pounds to push her into a size 16. Not huge for her height, but big enough in a world that idolizes Calista Flockhart. I’m the same height as Cannie, and, while not as broad, have experienced the same feelings that Cannie describes. I feel like a giant around thin, small-boned, average height women. I have to remind myself that there is no reason behind feeling this way, that maybe they feel just as bad sometimes—tiny and insignificant, maybe—next to me. Never, no matter how much dieting or exercising, will I ever be considered petite.

Cannie, like many women, has spent the first twenty-eight years of her life trying to hide her body. It isn’t until her ex-boyfriend, a man who apparently loved her voluptuousness, lands a column called “Good in Bed” in a major women’s magazine and begins to write about their former relationship that Cannie begins to come to terms with her size. His first article, entitled “Loving a Larger Woman”, tells the whole world about “C’s” body self-consciousness and plunges Cannie into a period of self-doubt. She had been the one to end the relationship, but she begins to question her judgment of this man.

To say Weiner’s heroine hits bottom before gaining some perspective is an understatement. Page 19 finds Cannie depressed and self-depricating, barricaded in her apartment wearing baggy overalls, drinking tequila, and watching the Sound of Music with her dog Nifkin (I had no idea what that meant until I read this book—I’ll let you find out on your own, I will only say that she did not name him), while trying to ignore her lesbian mom and her mom’s wacky girlfriend banging on the door.

Cannie does not, however, spend too long wallowing, but instead observes her situation—which grows increasingly more complex—with a wry sense of humor marked with intelligence (she’s a Princeton grad, too) and honesty. She embarks on a phenomenal year of self-discovery. Cannie begins to come to terms with her body, an unexpected twist of fate, a new relationship, a Hollywood friend, major career move, her father, and even (whew!)

Tanya, her mother’s chain-smoking, gravel-voiced, self-help book addict of a girlfriend. Tanya is so completely cliché that I think people would have a hard time not considering her character to be a joke—Weiner asks us all to laugh at ourselves. Just in case, Cannie’s mom provides a stable, average lesbian role model.

The author describes the book as having a “theme of finding love, and of building a family of choice, even in the face of your own damaged history…a family can be more than the people you’re biologically connected to—it can include everyone you’ve chosen to love.” I couldn’t agree more. After meeting the unique and caring support system of family and friends that Cannie cultivates, it is obvious that she is truly a healthy, well-adjusted, adult woman conquering some of her biggest fears. Cannie is an unlikely, but welcome, crusader. Weiner has created a cast of characters that is slightly outrageous and more than a little fun. Enjoy!

Rebecca James currently resides in Allentown, Pennsylvania, where she is completing a B.A. in English.