Not Oprah’s Book Club: Super in the City

I’ve tried reading so-called chick lit–those paperback books with shoes, shopping bags, and skinny women gracing the covers. First of all, I like to keep my finger on the pulse of what the American public is reading, and it seems, based on the numbers, that plenty of them are devouring books by Sophie Kinsella and Helen Fielding. But second, I’ve tried reading chick lit because sometimes a girl just needs a little breather from Samantha Power and Zadie Smith. I’m not always great at enjoying the lighter side of life, and chick lit seemed like a potential way in.
Boy was I wrong. The few that I’ve tried to read left me offended and just plain bored. It seemed that I was forever destined to my super serious reading punctuated by zoning out in front of crappy reality television when I needed a little break from it all. Until I read Super in the City…Daphne Uviller‘s new novel is not so much chick lit as lite fiction for the feminist minded reader. The main character, 27-year-old Zephyr, wonders why she is the laziest ambitious person she knows–pursuing then dropping dreams of med school, law school, and a thousand other jobs. She just can’t figure out what she wants to do with her life (not an unfamiliar experience these days, I know).
But twists and turns of fate land her in the initially unexciting position of being the super of her family brownstone. Before long, there are cute boys, sexy mysteries, and always a team of four best friends leading Zephyr on all kinds of adventures that, yes, in the end help her clarify something about herself, love, and the future.
This is fun fiction. It flies. And it’s really funny. Best of all, Uviller has an amazing imagination, that’s reflected in Zephyr’s frequent flights of fantasy through out the novel. She makes all of your crazy schemes, silly dreams, and catastrophic worries seem normal.
And the whole thing is feminist and fast-moving–a great break from Judith Butler.