She's a Party Girl, But Not the Way You're Thinking

How do you recreate the magic that inspired you in the first place?Sarah Mason sure doesn't have the answer to that one. She is one of those “good first novel, mediocre sequels” authors for me. She wrote a brilliant first novel, and the sequel was still pretty good (just couldn’t measure up to the first), but by the third, the magic has been drained. And from what I hear, her fourth isn't so hot, either. 

As I’ve said before in my review of Sarah Mason’s other book, Society Girls, Playing James is a great British chick lit book I would definitely recommend to people. The characters were varied, funny, loveable and pretty well developed (it is chick lit after all; I’m not exactly expecting Pulitzer Prize-winning material here). The plot moved along quickly with plenty of hilarious snafus and the ending left me satisfied. In the sequel, the Colshannon sisters were up to their usual adventures, but it just didn’t have the same oomph.

Party Girl does not pick up where Society Girls left off, nor does it have any of the same characters. Instead, it follows Isabel (I kid you not, I had to look up her name. That’s how memorable she is), a party planner in London who is requested to plan an event for a family she spent her childhood with. The estate she spent her summers on now holds bitter memories, all because Simon Monkwell flipped from best friend to bitter enemy in a matter of weeks.

The problem with this novel does not lie with the hijinks or the plot. It lies with the main characters themselves, who are just trite. It’s pretty bad when the only word you can come up with to describe your protagonists is “trite.” Simon is now this businessman with a ruthless reputation, which in the grand tradition of chick lit is revealed to be a façade. I apologize to those of you yelling “spoiler alert” at your computer screens, but if you can’t see it coming, I think you need to read more. He has a hybrid between an icy attitude and cool politeness aimed toward Isabel, yet she’s supposed to be in “like” with him. They’re also supposed to have chemistry, especially once Isabel understands why he acted the way he did, but I just didn’t feel it. The chemistry between them is just not palpable.

 

"Oh, uh, I failed chemistry...."

The lack of chemistry could be attributed to the boring Isabel and Simon. I hate to compare Party Girl to Playing James, but I just can’t help myself. While James Sabine was cynical and uptight, he was the perfect antithesis to Holly Colshannon’s chaotic whirlwind of a life. His wry and dry comments made everything that much funnier (think House, Chandler or Frasier in terms of witty quips). Simon is just boring and Isabel isn’t much more memorable. I take it as a bad omen that I had to look up her name because I couldn’t remember it for the life of me.

It’s left to the crazy relatives to carry the weight and offset Simon and Isabel’s “relationship” by making irrational decisions, creating comedic mishaps and shaking up everything with their eccentric personalities. At one point, there is a tarantula loose in the house, which causes panic and mayhem among the residents. There was a great opportunity for a tension-filled romantic scene between Simon and Isabel, but because they’re boring, nothing happens. Go figure. If it weren’t for the stereotypical, yet still enjoyable, crazy family members and coworkers, this book would have fallen on its face faster than a drunk giraffe on roller skates.

It is important to remember that this is a fluff novel. It doesn’t need the substance other novels need, as long as it makes the reader happy and leaves them feeling warm and squishy inside. Party Girl did not leave me feeling happy, just bored.

This brings me to an interesting question: how do you qualify boring? Boring is subjective. What you might qualify as boring (baseball, fishing, most nonfiction, vanilla ice cream) others might qualify as some of their favorite things. In the end, it comes down to what you think is boring. If you can’t handle the craziness of the Colshannon family or don’t like eccentric characters, you might like this novel more than Sarah Mason’s other novels. However, if you can’t stand a single moment of normalcy, I would recommend Sophie Kinsella or Jill Mansell. You can still pick up this book, but be warned that not even the cringe-worthy scenes can make up for the love story that is lacking.