I actually want to give this book three and a half stars. I picked it up because I really enjoyed the two Bridget Jones books (there some of the only books I've read that actually made me laugh out loud), and this is by the same author. Similar to the Bridget books, it's funny in an absurd kind of way, and I *did* enjoy the fact that this female lead was a bit less idiotic and hopeless (though lovable!) than Bridget. And yet this book just didn't have the same insight and sharp humor I expected from Fielding. The story was way over-the-top, but undeniably entertaining. If you want a light, fun, travel-type book and/or if you're a fan of Fielding, it's worth picking this book up.
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You might know Helen Fielding as that other famous female British author that even Americans know about. Unlike the other other one, though, Fielding seems content to enjoy her fame in peace and quietude and doesn't hang around on the internet spouting nonsense and offensive bullshit. More power to her, I say. I hope she's living the high life on her heaping piles of well-deserved money. (Mark Darcy-- I swoon.)
In case you didn't know, OLIVIA JOULES AND THE OVERACTIVE IMAGINATION is by the same author as BRIDGET JONES. It is a lot less popular than Bridget Jones and, like CAUSE CELEB, seems to have a tendency to divide its audiences. I read this for the first time as a teenager. In fact, I read it while living in the UK (I think I bought the book at a Waterstones in a mall; it was on sale for just a few quid). And since I'm doing a super fun project where I'm rereading some of the books of my youth (literary sad girl canon), this book seemed to be a solid candidate as I have vivid memories of lying awake late at night reading this book, skimming through for the bizarre and randomly placed illustrations that are interspersed throughout the book with text (all done comic book style, because of course).
The premise of this book is incredibly silly. It was written in the wake of 9/11 (2003), so Al-Qaeda is, of course, the villain. The heroine is a gorgeous/perky/cute journalist with an overactive imagination who ends up crying wolf right about when nobody believes her: that the hot guy she's super into might, in fact, be a megalomaniac who could be a terrorist in disguise. Also, there's makeup launches in Miami, a bit of a take-down of the L.A. party scene back from when boy bands were still a thing and people still wore red carpet drop-crotch pants, and there's a scuba diving accident, a trek through the Sudan, and someone accidentally snaps a pic of Bin Laden's crotch. No, it's not Cocaine o' Clock at the Nose Candy Cafe. All of this really happens in the book. I KNOW. I kind of loved it.
So here's the thing. This book does come across as a teensy bit Islamophobic in hindsight. And by a teensy bit I mean... this book would not be written today. That said, I think it is an incredibly cutting social commentary on everything from British snobbery, American ignorance, vapid celebrity culture, stereotypes in general, and that hyper-paranoid mindset so many people had in the wake of the 9/11 terrorist attack. You kind of get the same sort of vibe with old James Bond films and 1980s bodice-rippers: they show the attitudes and reflections of the times, for better or for worse. And what makes OLIVIA JOULES a bit more forgivable is that it really doesn't take itself at all seriously.
I think I enjoyed this more reading it as a teen but BRIDGET JONES was always this author's crown jewel to me (although I have a soft spot for CAUSE CELEB). If you're going to read it, be prepared to suspend all of your disbelief and take it with a whole bag of Morton's salt.
P.S. Debatable point, but I would argue that the biggest crime in this book was not the terrorism but the noughties fashion. I forgot about micro-minis and the low-rise jeans/whale tail combo, and ramen bowl haircuts for men. Lord help us all, how we made it out of the 2000s with any semblance of taste is nothing short of a miracle.
Hilarious, great, light read. I am so Olivia, the major character in this book. She gets into a ton of trouble without even trying. She is an English writer who finds herself mixed up in terrorism. Love this book.
Olivia Joules and the Overactive Imagination by Helen Fielding was just the right book I needed for my hyperactive imagination to unroll in a book. That imagination which you can see on a movie screen with you and the other people you know acting out in a real-life situation, all of your-own-making. Just kidding! I know not everyone is like that, and even if one is, they do not act such all the time.
(Visit my blog Ethereal Jinxed for more book reviews)
I had previously seen Bridget Jones's Diary - one of my few first movie during teenage years and I found the lead actress fat and too sulky. Of course, I do not remember the exact feeling, but it was trepidation that I picked up this book and found it quite interesting, interesting enough to take a break from the second part of The Kingkiller Chronicles. However, the character Olivia Joules, I found to be too much - too much to be real (am I so? *wink *wink). Do pick up this book to break boredom and if you are looking for a light chick-lit, but do not expect much. See, I did not give any spoilers away, even when it was too tough while writing review of this book.
Eh. A pale comparison to Bridget Jones- this book is so far outside the realm of believable that it, at times, isn't even an enjoyable read. The main character doesn't inspire the sympathy and empathy that Bridget elicited from readers, and, as I said, the plot line has gaping impossibilities that make it unsuitable for a novel in this genre- part of the pleasure in reading a novel like this is in the ability of the reader to participate in the fantasy! I also would note that this book has tinges of Islamophobia which irritate me. The sole Arab is, of course, a terrorist- and there are bizarre undercover terrorists- a fear that even tentative bigots seem to have in the US, and an equation of Arabs and terrorists is everyone in national discourse, at least in the US. Please stop contributing to this irrational, bigoted discourse!
I loved Bridget Jones' Diary so I found the author's latest book thoroughly disappointing. I didn't connect with the characters, her adventures were ludicrous and silly and frankly, I wanted to slap her. Bah.
Overall rather enjoyable, but I do wish I found her less annoying. It’s rather grating when someone who so clearly has an overactive imagination is proven correct.
I read this novel twice in as many weeks, the first time zipping along sniffing the eccentric aromas of lovely silliness laced with adverbs about a pert blonde British freelance journalist with the essential ingredient for a M16 spy, an overactive imagination. Skimming along, oblivious of details, not looking for clues, I enjoyed what I presumed delightful nonsense although with the haunting suspicion of missing something.
So I read it again. With foreknowledge of important characters like the close-cropped blond and the hairy bellboy, I listed them, noting on which page they appeared and reappeared. Like Olivia Joules I googled my suspicions. Takfiri are in fact followers of Takfir wal Hijira. Popayan is a colonial city in Colombia, not one of the Bay Islands off the coast of Honduras, yet Helen Fielding captured the ambiance of those islands as I know it. (I lived in La Ceiba for seven years.)
On second reading I paused to consider the subtext on frivolity, arrogance and despite and appreciated that Ms. Fielding didn't explain the technicalities of scuba diving. In the end I resolved to respect pert ladies with overactive imaginations and listen to their stories. They're not as farfetched as they seem.