Shopaholic & Sister (Sophie Kinsella)***

I love Sophie Kinsella, so maybe this book is only disappointing because I know she can be brilliant. My expectations are really high where Kinsella is concerned, and it’s possible this book would have got four stars if it had been written by someone who’s a bit hit and miss for me like Cecelia Ahern (she’s on 2 hits and 2 misses so far). Or if someone to whom I reluctantly gave a second chance wrote it, like Jane Green anything even halfway good is a nice surprise because my expectations aren’t that high. But anything less than perfect from Kinsella is going to be a disappointment.

No, that probably isn’t fair! But who said I had to be objective?

The fourth Shopaholic book has lots of humour. Becky is really sweet and lovely, and Luke is a sex god, and some of their exchanges are just delightful. But I kind of got the feeling all the good bits had been done before. It was still fun when Becky realised she’d bought far more stuff on honeymoon than she’d realised, and no surprise that she would rather look a bit deranged than miss out on the chance of the hottest handbag on the market – okay, it is a handbag with an angel on it, but even so, making deals with random strangers thus ensuring that other shoppers unfairly miss out on the bag does seem to be going a bit far. It was still quite funny though.

But surely there was no need for Becky to get Luke’s business in trouble yet again. Becky is so much funnier when the situations she gets into aren’t so horribly serious.

The idea of Becky’s sister Jess who hates shopping was wonderful in theory, but didn’t quite work for me in practice because I didn’t like Jess. There’s nothing wrong with not liking shopping. I hate it. I don’t mind going into bookshops and buying books, and if Waterstones or Blackwall’s or something like that started selling clothes as well, maybe I wouldn’t mind buying clothes in there. But Becky is a lovely person. The idea of going shopping with Becky does make me want to scream, although maybe we could turn it into a fair exchange whereby I go shopping with her, and she gives me Luke. I could certainly bring myself to go along with that.

Jess seemed to be set up as the complete opposite of Becky, and that was quite funny at first. But she didn’t seem to be nearly so rounded a character as most of those in Kinsella’s books. Also, she’s really rude. It’s not an accidental rudeness, which would have been fine. You never get the impression Jess is being rude because she’s stressed or scared or because she simply has no idea what she’s saying. She just seems to say whatever would discomfit Becky the most – which would be fine if Kinsella wrote light, frothy, on-the-surface slapsticky books with shallow characterisation. But she doesn’t.

The ending was also very predictable. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of predictability at times: we do always know that things will turn out okay for Becky. But the ending to Shopaholic & Sister was the most clichéd ending imaginable, and I know Kinsella is capable of better.

The Undonestic Goddess (Sophie Kinsella)*****

I’m not interested in the law and I’m not interested in cooking. So how come a book that has so much of both in it is one of the best books I’ve ever read? It’s probably because Sophie Kinsella can make anything interesting. After all, all the other books of hers I’ve read were all about shopping.

The Undomestic Goddess isn’t about the loveable Becky Bloomwood/Brandon in the Shopaholic series, but the equally alliterative Samantha Sweeting is no less adorable. Samantha is amazingly clever – she’s a hotshot lawyer who can do maths in her head (I can barely do it on paper, you should have seen what a mess I get in adding up the values of my fantasy football players) with an IQ of 158 (mine usually comes out a bit higher, but I probably added that up wrong too). Samantha could probably draw up legal contracts in her sleep (if she had time to sleep), and now she has the opportunity to become a senior partner, despite being only twenty-nine.

But Samantha can’t cook, or clean, or make beds – which turns out to be a bit of a problem when she suddenly finds herself working as a housekeeper in the middle of nowhere.

It sounds mad, but Kinsella can make anything seem perfectly reasonable. Whether she’s describing the legal world or housekeeping, everything seems realistic. Of course, as I don’t actually know anything about the legal world or housekeeping, I might not notice if there was something wrong with it. But a lot of books about specialist subjects can be completely unconvincing even when I don’t know anything about the subject.

The events that lead Samantha to abandon her highly-paid job and jump on the nearest train are surprisingly convincing. Her sudden jump from being cool and competent to horror-struck seems completely natural. Some people (like me) might have trouble identifying with a highly intelligent workaholic for the first chapter or so of the book, but stick with it. The shocked, appalled Samantha is much easier to relate to.

Her decision to become housekeeper to the delightfully bonkers couple Trish and Eddie requires some salt-pinching, and I personally was very uncomfortable at times with the fact that Samantha got the job under false pretences, and told some very elaborate lies. But it’s easy to forget about that because the book is so much fun. Samantha is convincingly intelligent - I have no trouble believing she has a first-class degree from Cambridge (contrast this with GP Katie in How to be Good who probably isn’t intelligent enough to write her name). I also have no trouble believing that a lawyer might not be able to cook. If you had a schedule like Samantha’s, you would never find the time either. (I don’t have a schedule like Samantha’s and I haven’t found the time to learn to cook, even though I have cooking GCSE. But I did cook my boyfriend a Welsh dinner for Valentine’s Day and he hasn’t died yet.)

Unfortunately, Samantha’s love interest isn’t nearly as gorgeous as Becky’s Luke – but perhaps I’d feel that way about anyone unfortunate enough to be called Nathaniel (if there are any nice Nathaniels out there, I’m sure I’d change my mind if I happened to meet you. Why couldn’t he have a nice name like Gareth? I don’t think I’ve ever read a book about a sexy guy called Gareth.) Nathaniel is an okay sort of guy. He’s just rather overshadowed by Samantha. They’re a good couple, but not a double act.

But the thing that really annoyed me was when Trish and Eddie found out Samantha could do sums in her head, and Trish thought she might be autistic. I didn’t find this very amusing, and I don’t understand why it would be so scandalous if Samantha did turn out to be autistic. It doesn’t make her a bad person. And I’m autistic and I definitely can’t do sums in my head. I wish I could. Then maybe I’d give people the right money when I buy things.

But it’s very rare for Kinsella to make a joke I don’t appreciate. And when she does, it’s probably says more about me than her. But I do appreciate some jokes that are aimed at people like me. I think viola jokes are hilarious. Not that I’m saying I am a viola, I’d never be that self-critical. I just play one.

Shopaholic Ties the Knot (Sophie Kinsella)*****

I’m not jealous. I’m not jealous that Luke wants to marry Becky instead of me. After all, things could obviously be very different if he’d actually met me. But Becky is one of the sweetest, funniest, most likeable characters in fiction, so I can’t blame him for loving her at all.

This time, Becky isn’t fighting bankruptcy and has no concerns about Luke’s fidelity. Things are actually going very well for her: Luke has proposed. But there is one teeny tiny problem in that their mothers have completely different ideas about the wedding, and they’re not actually speaking to one another. And Becky somehow hasn’t quite got around to telling either of them she’s having another wedding planned on the other side of the Atlantic.

Luke is lovelier than ever. He has finally been reunited with his mother, who abandoned him when he was a baby. Now he’s rich, she’s actually paying him some attention. But he’s so caught up in the illusion of mother love, even dippy Becky has a better idea of what’s going on than he has. He spends a lot of the book feeling miserable and depressed, and generally being adorable. This gives Becky the opportunity to look after him for a change. And this doesn’t involve dragging him round the shops to cheer him up. Poor Luke: Sophie Kinsella really is a bit mean to him in this book. I just wanted to climb into the pages and give him a big hug.

The book is mostly set in New York, but Becky’s parents and neighbours still make a pretty big appearance, and we hear the latest in the long-running saga of Tom and Lucy, two characters who get an extraordinarily big storyline throughout the Shopaholic series despite barely appearing in person. (If Tom’s mother, Janice, is infuriating you to the extent that you want to rip out every page with her name on, don’t worry. It will pass.)

Kinsella’s Shopaholic books are wonderful, but they do have certain similarities in their plots. This time, while Becky is in no less of a mess than usual, Kinsella has done something a bit different. There’s a lot more to Becky than shops and a lot more to Luke than having a successful company, but this is the book that really makes you aware of it. I love all the Shopaholic books (even the first one, I suppose), but this one is my favourite.

The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)***

I love Sophie Kinsella and I love Becky Bloomwood. I love Luke Brandon too, and I want to take him home with me. Anyone who’s read my blog will know how much I love Kinsella and her characters, and anyone who hasn’t read it knows it now.

But, if I’d read the first book in the series first, I don’t know if I would have read the others.

In some ways, it’s exactly the same as the last Shopaholic book I’ve read, Shopaholic Abroad, which I think is the second in the series. Becky (or Rebecca as she’s mostly called in this book: I love the name Rebecca, but it doesn’t suit her) spends loads of money on clothes; gets into serious financial trouble; gets into huge arguments with Luke, then somehow manages to solve her own and Luke’s problems in the most dramatic possible way. Actually, apart from the ‘serious financial trouble’ part, it’s very similar to the other Shopaholic book I’ve read as well: Shopaholic & Baby.

I will read the other ones because I loved the first two I read. And I’m sure it won’t actually matter if all the other stories are very similar. Even now, I want to read more about Becky, and especially more about Luke, and I would actually be disappointed if Kinsella’s next book was called ‘Shopaholic Gets Divorced’ (which would be all about how Luke leaves Becky for a blogging bookaholic called Sophie… me-Sophie not Kinsella) because I really like the relationship between Becky and Luke. ‘Shopaholic Gets Divorced’ would probably end up a bit like Me and Mr Darcy so it’s really best if it stays in my head.

The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic was disappointing not because it was the same as all the others. It was disappointing because I was expecting a comedy and got a horror story. There are some amusing moments, but they're not nearly as funny as some of the scenes in Kinsella’s later books, and I never really felt that I was happy for Becky to get away completely with all her lies and financial problems. Also, disappointingly, Kinsella leaves out some of the scenes I was looking forward to reading. Like Becky’s first meeting with Luke. Kinsella shows little of the great rapport between the two characters in this book, usually so brilliantly written (but perhaps yet to be developed). They barely even seemed to like each other. So the ending didn’t seem right at all.

Luke is sweet and lovely, though, and even a little bit useless on at least one occasion. Becky’s friend Suze is great as well – it’s interesting to see how her story starts. In some ways, Suze is the most interesting character in Kinsella’s books because she has a story that develops a little bit more in each book, whereas Becky, in many ways, is always the same person with the same problems.

Some of the lies Becky tells are absolutely dreadful. She could have got Derek Smeath, her poor bank manager, into serious trouble. Either she’s a horrible person or she’s got a really serious psychological condition that needs treatment. The other books were comedy, but this one was actually unsettling to read at times.

Shopaholic Abroad (Sophie Kinsella)****

I don’t know how Becky gets away with it, I really don’t. She’s a financial advisor with her own slot on a TV show, and she has less idea of money management than a goldfish. No, it’s worse than that. She has less idea of money management than me. Becky as a financial advisor is the equivalent of me getting a job with Trinny and Susannah.

But Sophie Kinsella can make anything work. She’s such a wonderful writer. She has created some great characters in the Shopaholic books, which looks like a series that could go on for years. She’s also great at character. Becky is the most adorable person in the world, and it’s probably very difficult not to love her – whether you’re a book lover, or Becky’s bank manager.

Becky’s delightful originality of mind can lead to the most horrific of situations – and Kinsella never fails to make them seem completely natural. I have been told I’m more than a little bit odd, but you wouldn’t catch me going to a convent in nothing but a T-shirt and a hairband. Becky could easily make you want to cringe for her, but she doesn’t. She makes you want to adopt her.

However, underneath Sophie Kinsella’s wonderful humour, Becky does have a problem or two. Compulsive shopper; compulsive liar. And Becky’s problems land not only her but also her gorgeous boyfriend Luke (I want him) into serious difficulties. Kinsella can turn a situation from comic to tragic in an instant – very much as it can happen in real life.

Kinsella isn’t saying it’s okay to spend too much money and then lie about it. But she is saying that it doesn’t make you a totally despicable person who should be reviled for all eternity. She’s saying that even nice, funny, endearing people can get into terrible situations. She’s also saying it’s possible to get out of them.

Shopaholic Abroad isn’t the kind of book that goes around winning awards. If Kinsella had wanted to win awards, she’d probably have thrown Becky out on the streets and made her into a prostitute. And she’d probably have to lose the wonderful humour too. That’s the sort of thing judges seem to like nowadays: a bit of ‘realism’.

But Shopaholic Abroad is deceptively clever – and quite possibly a lot more so than all those award-winners. Underneath Kinsella’s brilliant comedy is the feeling that, if it happened to Becky, it really could happen to everyone. Becky is luckier than most: she has support from all over the place, and she didn’t fall far enough to hit any kind of clichéd rock bottom. But, with a character as easy to identify with as Becky, that just means it’s harder to say ‘that would never happen to me.’ Because it could.

Shopaholic and Baby (Sophie Kinsella)*****

I don’t have a shopping problem. My interest in clothes is limited to how warm they are and how pink they are – apart from that, I’m not interested.

So I should hate Becky. She and I have nothing in common. The nearest I get to shopaholism is when I go to Waterstones and the 3for2 offer is just too good to resist. I even get 3for2 at WHSmiths sometimes, which is really exciting because officially they only do Buy1Get1Half-Price. But that’s not the same as being a shopaholic. That’s just about budgeting and being sneaky and comparing which are the best deals.

Okay, you’re right, that’s exactly the sort of thing Becky says. The only difference between us is that Becky is better-dressed than me. But I’m probably better-read. I’ve read Penny Vincenzi’s An Absolute Scandal all the way through. And Ulysses twice. So obviously I never have time to go clothes shopping.

You don’t need to have a clue about clothes or fashion to enjoy this book. It doesn’t matter if a clothes shop is practically an alien world. It’s all about loving something so much, the desire to possess it sends your brain into overdrive and physically prevents you from making connections between the prices of your desired item and the state of your bank account. Most people can relate to that. Probably a lot of us have also had the experience of when something happens that makes you look horribly stupid in front of people you don’t want to look stupid in front of. So you tell a little lie to get yourself out of looking stupid, and the lie gets bigger and bigger and bigger…

Okay, maybe that doesn’t happen to everyone, but it seems to happen to Becky almost every day. Maybe she doesn’t always use her considerable imaginative powers in the best or most convincing way possible, but watching Becky talking herself out of one embarrassment, and, more often than not, into one ten times worse, is an eye-opening experience. And a hysterically funny one as well.

Shopaholic & Baby (not that the baby appears until nearly the end) was the first Shopaholic book I read. You can read the books in any order, but Shopaholic & Baby isn’t a bad one to read first. As Becky is pregnant and married to rich, sexy Luke (phwoar!!!!!), it doesn’t seem to matter that she can’t stop spending. She’s hormonal, and he’s loaded, so it doesn’t seem that serious. And that’s actually good because it’s funnier when it’s not serious.

But Luke’s riches do have their downside. It means Becky can afford to see the great Venetia Carter (there seem to be a lot of bitches called Venetia in Sophie Kinsella’s books), obstetrician to the stars, and this backfires rather when Becky discovers Venetia is Luke’s ex-girlfriend – beautiful, sexy, intelligent, and apparently still interested in Luke. Becky, on the other hand, doesn’t realise that she’s very intelligent herself (when she uses her brain), and no-one with her lovely personality could fail to look beautiful. And her very strong interest in clothes can only help her to look good. But, of course, she’s pregnant, which means she’s not as thin as Venetia. And her hormones aren’t doing anything for her self-esteem. But Becky’s fears are more than reasonable enough to keep the book going, providing not only some hysterically funny moments, but some really serious and gripping moments. Especially as Luke really does seem to be lying to her.

Shopaholic & Baby isn’t the most realistic book in the world, but it’s fun and funny and you seriously don’t know what Becky’s going to come out with next. She’s a liar and she’s shallow, but she’s very warm-hearted and absolutely adorable. Luke is adorable too. Even though I quite wanted him for myself (like a lot of fictional Lukes, he is a bit underemotional, but there’s something really sexy about guys with their own company – like Blue in An Absolute Scandal), they do have a lovely relationship, so you really, really want them to work their problems out. Becky’s suspicions might seem reasonable, but Luke is so lovely, you can’t help hoping he’s not the type to be unfaithful - even though this would dramatically reduces your own minuscule (why does he have to be fictional???) chances of stealing him.