Book review: Playing For Keeps, Sweet Valley High #49
The A Plot: Ahh, now this is the Sweet Valley High I remember; I think I probably read this one (unlike Soap Star or Jessica Against Bruce) back in the day. I certainly remember the silly artwork of Jessica with her arms around homely A. J. Morgan, looking all "sweet" and "innocent" (read: like Liz). This one was originally published in 1988, so the timeframe certainly coincides with my most fervent SVH-worshipping.
The A plot follows Jessica's attempts to "win" A. J. Morgan, an Atlanta boy who's just transferred to Sweet Valley (as part of the events of the previous volume, Slam Book Fever). Because of the events of SBF -- which I know I read back in the day for sure, but of which I cannot find a copy, so I'll have to go off my fuzzy recollections and what PFK fills in -- Jessica knows that A. J. doesn't like "pushy" types, and he has somehow has gotten the idea that Jess is meek, quiet and serious. We all know that that's not our Jess, and furthermore, we know that she's got that deep-seated "pride" in flitting from dude to dude without a thought, but for some reason, being A. J.'s girlfriend has suddenly become the primary main objective, so Jess thinks she must keep up the charade no! matter! what!, making herself, A. J., Liz, and all of Sweet Valley (not to mention your intrepid reviewer) miserable in the process.
So, you guys know I feel about Liz's sanctimonious do-gooder, dorky-activity-loving bullshit, right? And you know how I cling to Jess's crazy antics (despite their triteness) for a reprieve from Liz's crap? Well, imagine my dismay, then, that in this book we've got BOTH twins pulling that infuriating "Gee, shucks, we don't need to go on a date, let's just help this old lady and then discuss world hunger," schtick. I mean, this shit gets painful. Every single time A. J. and Jess are together, she does something annoying. They go to the Dairi Burger, and Jess acts like she's above gossiping with Lila and steps all over everyone's jokes. A. J. takes her hiking at Secca Lake, and she pretends to be all about bird watching and won't even kiss the dude. They go to the beach, and Jess won't go swimming. I mean, for God's sake, what is pushy or frivilous about swimming, Jessica?
Even the facts that Jess is faking, and that she returns to her usual form in a very public (and very cheesy -- more on this later) fashion, don't help, because when Jess isn't polishing her Lizzie act in front of A. J., she's mooning about ways to actually become this person, writing horrible poetry and trying to care about the environment, or else she's fretting that A. J. is going to leave her ass. About this she's nearly right, not because she's not playing Elizabeth well enough, but because a) she's so afraid of losing him, she refuses to have an option about anything, and b) she's SUCH a goody-goody that A. J. becomes bored with her and becomes attracted to this completely ridiculous vampy character he meets at the beach, one "Pamela Jansen".
A word about Pamela -- I know SVH characters tend to be simultaneously way too sophistocated for high school and way too naive, what with their constant attending of high-class balls and "seductive smiles" and complete ignorance and lack of curiosity about teh sex, but Pamela is such a cartoon that she doesn't even make sense in the context of Sweet Valley. I mean, she is obviously all about teh sex, luring A. J. to her house sans parents, then inviting him for a dip in the hot tub (which her family keeps in the greenhouse? Even though their house is on a cliff with a kick-ass view of the ocean? WTF?), but she is just SOO one-dimensional (as opposed to the 1.5-2 dimensions of the other characters). Plus, she's got dark, curly hair, which we all know is SVH code for boring or evil. Pamela manages to be both, so good on her, I guess.
Also? Bitch is stupid, but I guess that's fortunate, since it's her stupid plan to humiliate Jessica that finally causes Jess to dump the stupid Lizzie act, reveal herself to A. J., and win a closet full of free hideous clothes in the process. Which brings us to...
The B Plot: You see, Lisette's is holding a fashion show for a famous designer (who needs Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week or Project Runway when you've got Sweet Valley?), and instead of real models, they're casting local teenagers for the show, which is also a competition. The winner will become the new "face" of the designer's line and win a free custom-designed wardrobe. Jessica, of course, is wild to participate, but what will A. J. think? After all, a sweet, demure, serious girl like Elizica would never do something as frivilous as model!
We all know where this is going, right? Jessica winds up finding a way to sign up for the fashion show, passing it off as a joke so A. J. won't think "badly" of her for it, and ends up pitted against... Pamela Jansen. Thus, the fashion show becomes more than just a competition for ugly clothes, but for A. J.'s heart as well. I'm not exactly sure how this is supposed to work, since Jess thinks A. J. doesn't like fashion shows, and presumably she thinks A. J. would think Pamela's a big ho for doing it in the first place, but she is worried about Pamela, but she can't fight back against Pamela's obvious and cheap ploys because then A. J. would know that Jess herself is shallow, but somehow Pamela's being shallow doesn't make her less of a threat, and... oof. My brain hurts.
The book's big climax comes at the fashion show, where Pamela has sabatoged all of Jessica's clothes, but our girl makes it work anyway, then finally loses it and tells Pamela off in front of the entire audience, which of course includes her family, A. J., and the entire population of Sweet Valley, it seems like. Obviously, this means that Jess is declared the undisputed winner, Pamela's dirty tricks are exposed and she is humiliated, and A. J. realizes that Jessica is a badass, and was his type of girl all along. Yawn... I mean, yay!
Miscellany: Despite the hackeneyed plot, as-stereotypical-as-ever characters, and the intensly-annoying Lizzieocity that Jessica displays nearly throughout, there are some things I really enjoyed about this book. For one, it's sort of awesome the way Lila and Amy rally around Jess when she's sad. Not that her shallow ass deserves such loyalty, but it's a nice touch. Also, I chuckled when Jess is all acting like a limp rag on her awkward double date with Elizabeth and Todd, and when Liz calls her on her shit, Jess is all, "I'm just trying to be like you!". Suck it, Liz!
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Back From the Dead
Okay, so I realize it's been forever since I've updated, but I decided to go pick up a bunch of SVHs from the local library this weekend so I could rectify the situation (answering the librarian's skeptical, unspoken "aren't you a little old for these" raised eyebrow with a defensive "It's for my blog!"). So now I've got 6 more volumes to snerk my way through, with reviews up shortly.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
We Girls Can Do Anything! (Right, Barbie?)
Book Review: Jessica Against Bruce, Sweet Valley High #86
The A Plot: I guess it's appropriate, given my last post, that the overbearing sexism of Soap Star is followed immediately by a battle-of-the-sexes book in which Bruce Patman and Jessica participate in what is, essentially, a 130-page dick-measuring contest.
See, Bruce is tired of how "boring" and "predictable" Sweet Valley has become (and I never thought I'd say this, but... word, Bruce Patman). His solution? To start "Club X", an exclusive hush-hush club whose members perform dares in order to a) throw Sweet Valley into chaos and spice things up, and b) prove how bad-ass and macho they are. Club members are chosen for each dare by the "random" spinning (more on that later) of a modified roulette wheel that is equally divided into sections containing the existing club members' names. Like Fight Club, Club X has some rules: to get in, you have to successfully complete a dare of the club's choosing; once you're in, you're in for life (huh?); if you biff a dare, your section of the wheel gets bigger, thus improving your chances of having to perform the next dare; oh, and No! Girls! Allowed! I guess the rule about not pointing out that the club name is lame is silent but implicit.
Of course, the "no girls" rule is what drives the aforementioned dick-measuring between Jess and Bruce. Once Jess learns that Bruce thinks (or claims to think) that women are weak, wimpy, and will "cry for help when faced with real danger," she and her friends hit the roof, and after several cafeteria debates/shout-downs between Jessica's table and Bruce's table, Jessica sets her sights on getting into Club X.
I have to admit, the cafeteria arguments are actually pretty shocking in that a) Sweet Valley girls cite actual relevant examples of female bad-assery by the likes of Sally Ride and others to make their point, and b) the Sweet Valley boys actually have the nerve to say things like, "Women claim to be all nurturing, but then they want someone else to raise their kids so they can go to work!". Jimminy Christmas, that's bad. The fact that the book tries to be feminist in overall tone somewhat mitigates that statement, but the fact that an "argument" that heavy-handed and ugly is articulated in a novel aimed at teen girls without an immediate and complete smack-down and social ostracising of the jerkwad who dared to utter it is, in my opinion, much more damaging than any of the superficial "You go, girl!" "feminism" the book attempts later on can make up for.
So anyway, Jessica muscles her way into the club (her inaugural dare is to drive down the hill from Bruce's house in the dark with no headlights) and somehow, the wheel keeps landing on her name time after time, defying the law of averages and resulting in more and more dangerous dares from Bruce. After a climactic dare in which Jessica is forced to walk the length of a railroad trestle (during which, of course, a train comes along and almost kills her - try harder next time, train!), Jessica twigs on to the fact that Bruce has fixed the roulette wheel to always land on her name by putting a magnet under it, re-fixes so that the magnet is under Bruce's name, and charges him with ruining a school assembly that - gasp! - Elizabeth has a major role in, unbeknownst to Jess. Will Bruce ruin the assembly? Will Elizabeth, who thinks Club X is dangerous and stupid (of course she does, and she's half-right) be furious? What will happen if Bruce is caught?
This review is already too long and we haven't even gotten to the lame-ass B plot yet, so I'll give it to you short-hand: yes, yes, and he'll turn in his club members to Chrome Dome, which will in turn piss them off and lead to Club X's disbandment, natch. While parts of the A plot were actually entertaining (Jessica, when dared to steal a car and drive it to the Dairi Burger, steals the 1Bruce1 Porche, which is awesome), the fact that any Club X dare not assigned to Jessica is lame and sad (seriously, one of the dares that someone has to perform is to fly a homemade flag reading "Rock 'n Roll 4-Ever!" from a tree on school grounds - scandalous!), coupled with the largely-unpunished sexism from male characters, the involvement of the local "Teen Help" hotline, which both Liz and Jess call for advice on the Club X conundrum (which, what? Couldn't they just ask their parents or their girlfriends, like normal people?), and the fact that we have, yet again, Elizabeth on the sidelines being all sanctimonious, ultimately turn this book into an eye-roller.
The B plot: While most Sweet Valley B plots stink in general, I think this one has to be one of the all-time worst, and not just because it features Elizabeth at her most goody-two-shoesiest. Well, actually, come to think of it, that probably is why. Man, is Liz a kiss-ass.
Sweet Valley High, being the most perfect school in all of America, is chosen as a stop for the "International Teacher's Project" which features Teachers From Around the World (TM) coming to schools in the US to study how American kids are taught. Like teachers from such third-world countries as France and England need Mr. Collins to show them how to teach English Lit, or something. Anyway, so of course Chrome Dome needs students to show them around, and of course, first-class apple polishers Enid, Todd and Elizabeth are chosen to be part of the "student delegation" that is charged with the mission of selling the foreign teachers on how terrific SVH is. Everything the teachers say and do is stereotypical of their home country, so the English teacher is stuffy and proper, the French teacher is always referred to as "Madam" so-and-so (and Elizabeth actually busts out all, "Bienvenue a Sweet Valley High", which totally impresses the pants off of her, like, hello, one of Elizabeth's classes is French! You learn "Bienvenue" in the first five minutes of your first class! That is not impressive, French Teacher!), and the Indian teacher has a melodious and "hypnotising" voice. I'm surprised the Japanese teacher didn't refuse to eat the cooked fish in the cafeteria and demand sushi instead. So, the stereotyping is irritating, but not as much as the fact that the teachers are constantly getting led into places where a Club X sexism shouting match or dare is taking/has taken place and are shocked - shocked, I tell you! - at what they see. Apparently, kids in Japan and India never, ever shout, listen to rock music, pull essentially innocent pranks, or talk about being attracted to members of the opposite sex. Seriously, when the teachers see the aforementioned lame-ass "Rock 'n Roll" flag, you'd think the kids had hung a naked blow-up doll from the tree by their reaction, all gasps and reddened faces and "This is not done in my country!"s. Whatever, sheltered foreign teachers.
But even more annoying than the teachers and their ability to be scandalized by absolutely nothing is Elizabeth and her vortex-like ability to suck up to anything resembling an authority figure in a 50-mile radius. Every time the book describes her "friendly smiles" and "How do you do?" greetings and shock and hurt that Jess could not care less about the teachers' visit and won't put a stop to her club's activities while they're there, and how important the International Teacher's Project is to her (why? She only just found out about it, and they're only there for a week, after which they will be forgotten and never mentioned again. There's no conceivable reason for Liz to care this much, except for her never-ending need to be the best at everything, all the time, regardless of actual importance, which, shut up, Lizzie.) make Elizabeth even more unbearable than usual. And that? Is hella unbearable.
The Micellany: Because this book immediately follows Soap Star, the plot of that book is heavily referenced. When the twins talk about the raging sexism debate at school over dinner one night, Ned marvels again about Liz wheeling and dealing with the Jeep salesman, and Alice also points out that Liz changes the oil herself like she's cured cancer or something. We girls can do anything! But, in typical Sweet Valley fashion, these sops to feminisim are undone by the fact that Jess is still conscious of how she almost "wrecked" her relationship with Sam by caring more about herself than him. When will she ever learn that girls can't have interests of their own, or that if they do, those interests must be put aside the second your boyfriend starts talking about his own? Silly Jessica!
The A Plot: I guess it's appropriate, given my last post, that the overbearing sexism of Soap Star is followed immediately by a battle-of-the-sexes book in which Bruce Patman and Jessica participate in what is, essentially, a 130-page dick-measuring contest.
See, Bruce is tired of how "boring" and "predictable" Sweet Valley has become (and I never thought I'd say this, but... word, Bruce Patman). His solution? To start "Club X", an exclusive hush-hush club whose members perform dares in order to a) throw Sweet Valley into chaos and spice things up, and b) prove how bad-ass and macho they are. Club members are chosen for each dare by the "random" spinning (more on that later) of a modified roulette wheel that is equally divided into sections containing the existing club members' names. Like Fight Club, Club X has some rules: to get in, you have to successfully complete a dare of the club's choosing; once you're in, you're in for life (huh?); if you biff a dare, your section of the wheel gets bigger, thus improving your chances of having to perform the next dare; oh, and No! Girls! Allowed! I guess the rule about not pointing out that the club name is lame is silent but implicit.
Of course, the "no girls" rule is what drives the aforementioned dick-measuring between Jess and Bruce. Once Jess learns that Bruce thinks (or claims to think) that women are weak, wimpy, and will "cry for help when faced with real danger," she and her friends hit the roof, and after several cafeteria debates/shout-downs between Jessica's table and Bruce's table, Jessica sets her sights on getting into Club X.
I have to admit, the cafeteria arguments are actually pretty shocking in that a) Sweet Valley girls cite actual relevant examples of female bad-assery by the likes of Sally Ride and others to make their point, and b) the Sweet Valley boys actually have the nerve to say things like, "Women claim to be all nurturing, but then they want someone else to raise their kids so they can go to work!". Jimminy Christmas, that's bad. The fact that the book tries to be feminist in overall tone somewhat mitigates that statement, but the fact that an "argument" that heavy-handed and ugly is articulated in a novel aimed at teen girls without an immediate and complete smack-down and social ostracising of the jerkwad who dared to utter it is, in my opinion, much more damaging than any of the superficial "You go, girl!" "feminism" the book attempts later on can make up for.
So anyway, Jessica muscles her way into the club (her inaugural dare is to drive down the hill from Bruce's house in the dark with no headlights) and somehow, the wheel keeps landing on her name time after time, defying the law of averages and resulting in more and more dangerous dares from Bruce. After a climactic dare in which Jessica is forced to walk the length of a railroad trestle (during which, of course, a train comes along and almost kills her - try harder next time, train!), Jessica twigs on to the fact that Bruce has fixed the roulette wheel to always land on her name by putting a magnet under it, re-fixes so that the magnet is under Bruce's name, and charges him with ruining a school assembly that - gasp! - Elizabeth has a major role in, unbeknownst to Jess. Will Bruce ruin the assembly? Will Elizabeth, who thinks Club X is dangerous and stupid (of course she does, and she's half-right) be furious? What will happen if Bruce is caught?
This review is already too long and we haven't even gotten to the lame-ass B plot yet, so I'll give it to you short-hand: yes, yes, and he'll turn in his club members to Chrome Dome, which will in turn piss them off and lead to Club X's disbandment, natch. While parts of the A plot were actually entertaining (Jessica, when dared to steal a car and drive it to the Dairi Burger, steals the 1Bruce1 Porche, which is awesome), the fact that any Club X dare not assigned to Jessica is lame and sad (seriously, one of the dares that someone has to perform is to fly a homemade flag reading "Rock 'n Roll 4-Ever!" from a tree on school grounds - scandalous!), coupled with the largely-unpunished sexism from male characters, the involvement of the local "Teen Help" hotline, which both Liz and Jess call for advice on the Club X conundrum (which, what? Couldn't they just ask their parents or their girlfriends, like normal people?), and the fact that we have, yet again, Elizabeth on the sidelines being all sanctimonious, ultimately turn this book into an eye-roller.
The B plot: While most Sweet Valley B plots stink in general, I think this one has to be one of the all-time worst, and not just because it features Elizabeth at her most goody-two-shoesiest. Well, actually, come to think of it, that probably is why. Man, is Liz a kiss-ass.
Sweet Valley High, being the most perfect school in all of America, is chosen as a stop for the "International Teacher's Project" which features Teachers From Around the World (TM) coming to schools in the US to study how American kids are taught. Like teachers from such third-world countries as France and England need Mr. Collins to show them how to teach English Lit, or something. Anyway, so of course Chrome Dome needs students to show them around, and of course, first-class apple polishers Enid, Todd and Elizabeth are chosen to be part of the "student delegation" that is charged with the mission of selling the foreign teachers on how terrific SVH is. Everything the teachers say and do is stereotypical of their home country, so the English teacher is stuffy and proper, the French teacher is always referred to as "Madam" so-and-so (and Elizabeth actually busts out all, "Bienvenue a Sweet Valley High", which totally impresses the pants off of her, like, hello, one of Elizabeth's classes is French! You learn "Bienvenue" in the first five minutes of your first class! That is not impressive, French Teacher!), and the Indian teacher has a melodious and "hypnotising" voice. I'm surprised the Japanese teacher didn't refuse to eat the cooked fish in the cafeteria and demand sushi instead. So, the stereotyping is irritating, but not as much as the fact that the teachers are constantly getting led into places where a Club X sexism shouting match or dare is taking/has taken place and are shocked - shocked, I tell you! - at what they see. Apparently, kids in Japan and India never, ever shout, listen to rock music, pull essentially innocent pranks, or talk about being attracted to members of the opposite sex. Seriously, when the teachers see the aforementioned lame-ass "Rock 'n Roll" flag, you'd think the kids had hung a naked blow-up doll from the tree by their reaction, all gasps and reddened faces and "This is not done in my country!"s. Whatever, sheltered foreign teachers.
But even more annoying than the teachers and their ability to be scandalized by absolutely nothing is Elizabeth and her vortex-like ability to suck up to anything resembling an authority figure in a 50-mile radius. Every time the book describes her "friendly smiles" and "How do you do?" greetings and shock and hurt that Jess could not care less about the teachers' visit and won't put a stop to her club's activities while they're there, and how important the International Teacher's Project is to her (why? She only just found out about it, and they're only there for a week, after which they will be forgotten and never mentioned again. There's no conceivable reason for Liz to care this much, except for her never-ending need to be the best at everything, all the time, regardless of actual importance, which, shut up, Lizzie.) make Elizabeth even more unbearable than usual. And that? Is hella unbearable.
The Micellany: Because this book immediately follows Soap Star, the plot of that book is heavily referenced. When the twins talk about the raging sexism debate at school over dinner one night, Ned marvels again about Liz wheeling and dealing with the Jeep salesman, and Alice also points out that Liz changes the oil herself like she's cured cancer or something. We girls can do anything! But, in typical Sweet Valley fashion, these sops to feminisim are undone by the fact that Jess is still conscious of how she almost "wrecked" her relationship with Sam by caring more about herself than him. When will she ever learn that girls can't have interests of their own, or that if they do, those interests must be put aside the second your boyfriend starts talking about his own? Silly Jessica!
Friday, November 17, 2006
The Emancipation of Jessica Wakefield
Book Review: Soap Star, Sweet Valley High #85
The A Plot: Jessica's favorite soap opera, The Young and the Beautiful (I know, right? Why didn't they just call it The Wakefield Twins and be done with it?) is holding auditions for a set of twins for a one-week-only story line. Of course, Californian good looks are a must for the part, which makes our girls the perfect fit. The problem is that Elizabeth, eternal wet blanket that she is, hates soap operas and everything they stand for! They're, like, totally against her morals! How will Jessica get her to see the light?
Of course, Jessica eventually finds a harebrained scheme to get Elizabeth to the auditions and they get the part without even auditioning. See, once Liz gets wind of Jess's deceit (Jessica had typed up a fake nerd-bait invitation to a focus group to get Elizabeth to LA, but put the studio's address on the letter so that they ended up at the audition), she throws a hissy of massive proportions right there in front of the casting director, God, and everybody and then storms out. The casting director is clearly an idiot, smoking crack, or both, because not only does she wear her hair in a beribboned cone ("like a unicorn's horn") on the front of her head, she thinks Liz's tantrum is actually a guerrilla audition, and she's so impressed that she casts the Wakefields on the spot, without bothering to let anyone else audition!
Dude, this is just the first thirty pages, and I don't even know where to begin with the mocking. The unicorn horn - is this the author's shortcut for edgy and creative? Has she ever actually met someone who was edgy or creative? I mean, the answer is obviously no, because Sweet Valley is so clearly without edge or creativity that the worst thing the "bad" kids at SVH do is drink and go for second base, just like every other whitebread teen in America, but this is beyond the pale as far as cluelessness goes, even for Sweet Valley. I'd go on, but we have the rest of the plot to content with.
So, after Jessica convinces Elizabeth to take the role (I'll spare you the details, because of course Lizzie caves like a wet paper bag), Jessica is swept up in the glamor of working in Hollywood. She begins being squired around town with her "charming" co-star, who Elizabeth dislikes, so when he's revealed to be a jerk who was just using Jessica for publicity, it's no surprise at all. In the meantime, Jessica is "neglecting" her boyfriend Sam, who throws down on a date when Jessica seems distracted and issues an ultimatum: either Jessica stows her own interests and lives for him, or they break up. Er, rather, Jessica stops "ignoring" Sam, or they break up. Will Jessica see how "badly" she's treating Sam and "come to her senses"? What do you think?
I don't think it ever dawned on me how sexist these books were until I read the scene between Jessica and Sam on the beach. I mean, he's all, "You're more excited about your role on the soap opera than you are about our relationship and my dirt bike competition! It's all you ever think about!" And I'm like, yeah, homes, this is her big break and it's only going to last a week, so shut up about your damn dirt biking and let your girlfriend be excited about something that has nothing to do with you, yeesh. Maybe this is the reason that so many women think they must be available to their men above all else - the Wakefield twins taught them the value of keeping your man happy, even at the expense of yourself. Bravo, Francine Pascal Ghost Writer of the Month!
The B Plot: The legendary red fiat is starting to become unreliable (as my esteemed co-blogger Alison noted, it's about time - they've had that car for 20-25 years at this point), and so the twins want to buy a Jeep to replace it. Naturally, Jessica wants the "flashy" model with "purple rhinestone stripes" (what?!?) and Elizabeth wants the "sensible" navy blue model with good gas mileage. The series mines the sexist depths once more in the scene where Ned takes Elizabeth (but not Jessica!) to buy the car, and of course Todd has to come along, and they and the salesman all think it's "adorable" that Elizabeth is a hardass about what she wants in her car and what she wants to pay for it. Of course, Elizabeth is annoyingly self-righteous in that scene (natch), but still, it was 1990. It's not that revolutionary that a girl might know something about cars. Oh, and since Ned doesn't love Jessica and only takes Elizabeth to the dealership, guess which Jeep they get?
The Micellany: One thing that I (love to) hate about the Valley is how the authors always try to drop big, clunky pieces of exposition into the dialogue, instead of the narrative, where they'd make more sense. Like, they'll have Jessica say, "Oh, look, The Young and the Beautiful, our favorite soap opera, is holding a casting call for twins!" to Lila, and I'm like, doesn't Lila know what her favorite soap is? I'd remind the writers that their readers do, in fact, have brains and can spot this stuff, but the comments included on the inside cover from the "Reader of the Month" would just prove me wrong.
The A Plot: Jessica's favorite soap opera, The Young and the Beautiful (I know, right? Why didn't they just call it The Wakefield Twins and be done with it?) is holding auditions for a set of twins for a one-week-only story line. Of course, Californian good looks are a must for the part, which makes our girls the perfect fit. The problem is that Elizabeth, eternal wet blanket that she is, hates soap operas and everything they stand for! They're, like, totally against her morals! How will Jessica get her to see the light?
Of course, Jessica eventually finds a harebrained scheme to get Elizabeth to the auditions and they get the part without even auditioning. See, once Liz gets wind of Jess's deceit (Jessica had typed up a fake nerd-bait invitation to a focus group to get Elizabeth to LA, but put the studio's address on the letter so that they ended up at the audition), she throws a hissy of massive proportions right there in front of the casting director, God, and everybody and then storms out. The casting director is clearly an idiot, smoking crack, or both, because not only does she wear her hair in a beribboned cone ("like a unicorn's horn") on the front of her head, she thinks Liz's tantrum is actually a guerrilla audition, and she's so impressed that she casts the Wakefields on the spot, without bothering to let anyone else audition!
Dude, this is just the first thirty pages, and I don't even know where to begin with the mocking. The unicorn horn - is this the author's shortcut for edgy and creative? Has she ever actually met someone who was edgy or creative? I mean, the answer is obviously no, because Sweet Valley is so clearly without edge or creativity that the worst thing the "bad" kids at SVH do is drink and go for second base, just like every other whitebread teen in America, but this is beyond the pale as far as cluelessness goes, even for Sweet Valley. I'd go on, but we have the rest of the plot to content with.
So, after Jessica convinces Elizabeth to take the role (I'll spare you the details, because of course Lizzie caves like a wet paper bag), Jessica is swept up in the glamor of working in Hollywood. She begins being squired around town with her "charming" co-star, who Elizabeth dislikes, so when he's revealed to be a jerk who was just using Jessica for publicity, it's no surprise at all. In the meantime, Jessica is "neglecting" her boyfriend Sam, who throws down on a date when Jessica seems distracted and issues an ultimatum: either Jessica stows her own interests and lives for him, or they break up. Er, rather, Jessica stops "ignoring" Sam, or they break up. Will Jessica see how "badly" she's treating Sam and "come to her senses"? What do you think?
I don't think it ever dawned on me how sexist these books were until I read the scene between Jessica and Sam on the beach. I mean, he's all, "You're more excited about your role on the soap opera than you are about our relationship and my dirt bike competition! It's all you ever think about!" And I'm like, yeah, homes, this is her big break and it's only going to last a week, so shut up about your damn dirt biking and let your girlfriend be excited about something that has nothing to do with you, yeesh. Maybe this is the reason that so many women think they must be available to their men above all else - the Wakefield twins taught them the value of keeping your man happy, even at the expense of yourself. Bravo, Francine Pascal Ghost Writer of the Month!
The B Plot: The legendary red fiat is starting to become unreliable (as my esteemed co-blogger Alison noted, it's about time - they've had that car for 20-25 years at this point), and so the twins want to buy a Jeep to replace it. Naturally, Jessica wants the "flashy" model with "purple rhinestone stripes" (what?!?) and Elizabeth wants the "sensible" navy blue model with good gas mileage. The series mines the sexist depths once more in the scene where Ned takes Elizabeth (but not Jessica!) to buy the car, and of course Todd has to come along, and they and the salesman all think it's "adorable" that Elizabeth is a hardass about what she wants in her car and what she wants to pay for it. Of course, Elizabeth is annoyingly self-righteous in that scene (natch), but still, it was 1990. It's not that revolutionary that a girl might know something about cars. Oh, and since Ned doesn't love Jessica and only takes Elizabeth to the dealership, guess which Jeep they get?
The Micellany: One thing that I (love to) hate about the Valley is how the authors always try to drop big, clunky pieces of exposition into the dialogue, instead of the narrative, where they'd make more sense. Like, they'll have Jessica say, "Oh, look, The Young and the Beautiful, our favorite soap opera, is holding a casting call for twins!" to Lila, and I'm like, doesn't Lila know what her favorite soap is? I'd remind the writers that their readers do, in fact, have brains and can spot this stuff, but the comments included on the inside cover from the "Reader of the Month" would just prove me wrong.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Welcome to the Valley, bitches
Welcome to Double Hate, where we aim to stick it to the insipid residents Sweet Valley for once and for all.
Sure, we read and loved the Sweet Valley books when we were kids - what pre-pubsecent girl in the 80s and 90s didn't love the Wakefield twins and all their friends? But a few weeks ago, we were reminicing about our pre-teen years (okay, fine, and some actual teen years) that we squandered sitting in our rooms reading about the Wakefield twins, and we decided to find out if the books would stand up to our now-adult and cynical eyes. To our horror and glee (but not surprise), they do not.
Does this mean the books aren't worth our time? No! No, it does not. In fact, after surfing the Net and finding an alarming derth of critical analysis on the Sweet Valley gang, we were moved to start our mission of reading as many of the books as we can stomach -- and then reporting back to what we're sure will be our legions of fans on every sordid detail.
So watch this space for reviews, character analyses, and other Slam Book-inspired bile about everyone's "favorite" annoyingly perfect twins and their friends. Welcome to the Valley, bitches!
Sure, we read and loved the Sweet Valley books when we were kids - what pre-pubsecent girl in the 80s and 90s didn't love the Wakefield twins and all their friends? But a few weeks ago, we were reminicing about our pre-teen years (okay, fine, and some actual teen years) that we squandered sitting in our rooms reading about the Wakefield twins, and we decided to find out if the books would stand up to our now-adult and cynical eyes. To our horror and glee (but not surprise), they do not.
Does this mean the books aren't worth our time? No! No, it does not. In fact, after surfing the Net and finding an alarming derth of critical analysis on the Sweet Valley gang, we were moved to start our mission of reading as many of the books as we can stomach -- and then reporting back to what we're sure will be our legions of fans on every sordid detail.
So watch this space for reviews, character analyses, and other Slam Book-inspired bile about everyone's "favorite" annoyingly perfect twins and their friends. Welcome to the Valley, bitches!
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