Revisiting Bridget Jones's Diary: Why Chick Lit is Here to Stay

It's been nearly ten years since Bridget Jones's Diary burst onto the literary scene, spawning a whole new genre. Since then, chick lit has been called the next big thing, a flash in the pan, and a trend so steeped in contemporary culture that it will have no lasting appeal. So, how well does the book that started it all hold up? Surprisingly well.

A good part of the appeal of the book then and now is Bridget herself. Bridget, like most of the best chick-lit heroines, is an everywoman. She's a blend of warts-and-all reality and wish-fulfillment fantasy. I am Bridget Jones. I don't smoke or drink too much. I don't need to lose weight. I haven't slept with my boss (if you could see most of the bosses I've had, ewwww!). But there's still a lot about Bridget I can relate to. Where I see myself in Bridget is in her constant (and often fruitless) quest for self-improvement. The book had me from page one with her detailed list of New Year's resolutions. My resolutions may be different, but I have a tendency to make lists like that, which are promptly forgotten until the next new year. Then there are her event-oriented self-improvement programs. Just the other day I caught myself making a list of things I needed to do over the next month to be ready for my book release (exercise and cutting back on chocolate consumption were high on the list, as were regular manicures and liberal use of hand lotion).

I see myself in Bridget's constant attempts to throw the dinner party of the century, except she goes one better than me and actually has the parties. I just plan them and then never do anything about carrying them out. The one time I did go through with having a party -- one I actually invited people to -- it came out perfectly. The food was good and done on time, there were no kitchen disasters. The house was ready on time. I was ready on time. And no one actually showed up, other than one friend who popped by on his way to another party and another friend who came later with her boyfriend, then left early. Although that didn't happen to Bridget in the book, it's the kind of thing you could imagine happening to her. You know you've got a "relatable" (to use the publishing catchphrase) heroine when you can imagine the kinds of things that would happen to her, even if they don't happen in the pages of the book.

Bridget is such a delightful bundle of true-to-life quirks that every woman could find something of herself in Bridget, whether it's obsessive calorie counting, creative interpretation of popular diet plans (a danish should be equal to wheat toast, right?), grand daydreams of happy endings or annoying maternal interference. Single women could rejoice to have their lives validated by a heroine who spoke out about the way Smug Marrieds treat Singletons as though they're second-class citizens just waiting for their real lives to come along. Married women could look back fondly on their single days -- or else be thankful they'd finally escaped.

At the time Bridget Jones's Diary was first published, this was a breath of fresh air. I was more accustomed to reading romance heroines, whose "flaws" might be that they were a bit too curvy or that they had a "boyish" figure without enough curves. They might have a temper. They might have baggage from their past that left them struggling to learn to trust again. But they didn't have the kind of flaws I have. I didn't relate to these creatures who wore silk slacks to go shopping with friends (seriously!) and acted like 40-something suburban housewives even though they were in their 20s. Bridget was someone I could relate to, someone who had flaws and problems I'd actually experienced, yet she also got to do and say the kinds of things I wished I could do and say. Once I read that first book, it was difficult to go back. I wanted more of heroines who could be lovably bitchy or ditzy, who could screw up then try again, who had real-world flaws but still managed to come out on top. And judging by the success of the genre Helen Fielding's novel spawned, I'd guess I wasn't alone. I think a lot of the appeal of chick lit is that blend of reality and fantasy -- wish fulfillment that's even more satisfying because it's so grounded in day-to-day life.

When journalists go to write the standard "chick lit is dead/it's a trend that won't last" articles, I'd suggest they re-read Bridget Jones's Diary. It was written about ten years ago, yet it still feels current, even though Bridget lives in a world in which Princess Diana is still alive and the Spice Girls are still popular. One of the biggest put-downs of chick lit is that it's so of-the-moment, so steeped in current trends that it will age rapidly. Bridget Jones's Diary should be at that awkward age, no longer current, but not far enough back in the rear-view mirror to be a classic that offers a glimpse into another time. But it still works. Bridget's struggles are still relevant because they start at a place that's so very real, even if they are taken to the kinds of extremes that few of us (we hope!) will ever experience.

As long as we continue to write heroines in whom readers can see themselves yet who manage to survive and even succeed, as long as we take an honest look at ourselves and our world and find that core, timeless truth, chick lit will continue to thrive. After all, if Bridget can snag a