The Book Meme Challenge: A book everyone hated but you liked
Once again, the meme prompt proves difficult to discuss. A book everyone hated but me? Surely if that were so, the publisher himself would have hated it and on those grounds rejected it. Ergo I would not have read it unless I had access to the manuscript…which brings other problems. So…recasting time. Shall I talk of books whose honor I defended? A book I am ashamed to own I enjoy? Guilty pleasures?
I hear encouragement coming from Melpomene’s direction. Yes? Alright then.
Once upon a time, my cousin and I were engaged in that most girly of pursuits, namely reading a luridly pink magazine and painting our fingernails. The mag in question happened to have a sneak peek of a book called On the Bright Side, I’m Now the Girlfriend of a Sex God (the sequel, it turns out, to Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging. In Britain the second book was called It’s OK, I’m Wearing Really Big Knickers but evidently someone Stateside found it offensive. Publishers confuse me sometimes).
Before you get red and huffy at the thought of such an unsavory title, let me hasten to reassure you that the boyfriend is not so called because of his lovemaking skills, but because his girlfriend is a 14-year-old given to hyperbole, who has titled him such because she finds him very sexy in appearance; there is much mention of his gorgey hair and truly marv eyes and also the fact that he makes her knees go jelloid. These are technical terms which will be on the final.
Anyway, here is the sneak peek that my cousin and I read some years back:
“He called me!!”
It’s like talking to a sock. “Jas, HE called me. HE – the one and only HE in the universe.”
Jas came round to discuss what I should wear. We went up to my room. Unfortunately I forgot to warn Jas about the hammock that Libby had made for her dolls. She’d made it out of one of Mum’s commodious bras and tied it across the landing. Jas grazed her shins quite badly when she fell over. She was going, “Ow, ow!” but I can’ be bothered with minor injuries just now.
She hobbled into my room and we looked through my wardrobe. I held things up and jas went, “No. No. Maybe. No, too tarty. No, no…er…maybe.”
I was trying on a suede mini and she said, “Erlack!! The front of your legs are quite hairy but the backs of your legs are all baldy.”
I had a look. She was right. Time for operation smoothy legs. I grumbled to her as we went to the bathroom. “What is the point of evolution? Why bother giving us hairy front legs and baldy back legs? When can that ever have been useful in our fight for survival?”
Jas said, “Perhaps it was to frighten things off.”
I said, “Oh yeah, that will be it. Stone Age girl would have said, ‘Here comes a big dinosaur chasing me from behind. It thinks I am a pushover because of my baldy legs, but wait till I turn round! I’ll scare off the big lug with my terrifying hairy front legs.’ That will be the explanation.”
The image alone caused my cousin and me to roll about, helpless with laughter, to say nothing of Georgia’s style. Here is another bit:
I could have quite literally snogged until the cows came home. And when they came home I would have shouted, “WHAT HAVE YOU COWS COME HOME FOR? CAN’T YOU SEE I’M SNOGGING, YOU STUPID HERBIVORES???”
I think I may be a bit feverish.
Each book is written in diary form and covers three or four months of Georgia Nicolson’s life. There are ten in the series, and I suspect it is now complete as Louise Rennison would surely have been able to write the 11th and 12th by now if she wished. Sadly I have not read past Stop in the Name of Pants! and therefore have no idea if she ends up with Dave the Laugh (but she’d better).
When I handed the three books I own to Thalia one day, I told her they were the literary equivalent of eating a bag of Oreos. I don’t think my mind has changed much on that score. Fortunately the literary version is easier on the digestion – though I daresay that the mental effects of reading it are just as difficult to remove from oneself as a pound of sugar. Georgia gets the credit (or blame) for my tendency to coin words. The phrases “away laughing on a fast camel,” “laughing like a loon on loon tablets,” “erlack a pongees!” and “agog as two gogs” are hers, and I think the last gave rise to my tendency to say “as ___ as two ___ things.”
But though I am the only person to like Georgia (and I’m pretty sure that’s not the case), I reckon the books about her are as legitimate a field for study as whathisface, Holden Whatsit in that book, Catcher thing. After all, neither one tells you what in the name of pantyhose will happen next!