Tag Archives: Bridget Jones

The Bridget Jones Effect.

I recently received the new Helen Fielding novel Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy (2013) from my sister for Christmas. I haven’t read it yet (I’m currently immersed in the world of George R. R. Martin) and I haven’t read either of Fielding’s Bridget Jones predecessors but it prompted me to download the two consequent Rene Zellweger films Bridget Jones’s Diary (2001) and Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason (2004). I hadn’t seen either film in years and was greatly looking forward to snuggling down into my bed and preoccupying myself with Bridget’s verbal diarrhea, excessive drinking and chain smoking not to mention fawning over Mark Darcy (Colin Firth) and Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant). A little eye candy never hurt anyone.

So there I am, happily settling into the groove of the film watching Bridget (Zellweger) slopping about in her pajama’s with a glass of red wine in hand, mouthing the words to Celine Dion’s “All By Myself” when it occurs to me, dear God. That’s probably (almost definitely) going to be me. I’ve now been on the singles table for close to five years (with no future relationship prospects in sight) and have pretty much all but given up on finding my own version of Mark Darcy. I’d rather sit at home on a Saturday night and sob into my pillow while watching a hopelessly romantic film than go out and “mingle”. The mere thought of embarking on a Saturday night quest to find Mr. Right is enough to send me back into bed with a tub of ice-cream (there go my New Years Resolutions) because I know that no matter how many nights I go out, I’ll never find the man of my dreams in a bar. A truly negative outlook on the dating scene but I’m yet to be proven wrong.

I know I’m nowhere near a perfect specimen of the female form but it would be nice to find someone who says to me, and I quote Mark Darcy here, “I don’t think you’re an idiot at all. I mean, there are elements of the ridiculous about you. Your mother’s pretty interesting. And you really are an appallingly bad public speaker. And, um, you tend to let whatever’s in your head come out of your mouth without much consideration of the consequences… But the thing is, um, what I’m trying to say, very inarticulately, is that, um, in fact, perhaps despite appearances, I like you, very much. Just as you are.” (Bridget Jones’s Diary, 2001) A girl can dream.