Books: Among the midgets
It was a slow day. Nothing in the in-tray, less in the out-tray; nada to work on and no place to go. I slouched in my swivel-backed chair, left hand-fingering the mouth of the empty bottle. I'd already worked my way through a full half quart of bourbon, and was now reduced periodically to breathing the intoxicating fumes coming out of the photocopier vent. Like I said, a slow day. But all that was to change when this hot little number checked into my office.
She was cute, no doubt about it. Young, shiny, eager to please. I ran my eyes over her, real slow. Yep, she checked out just like a dame ought. I reached out, stroked her smooth surface, slid my hands under the thin jacket. She didn't resist.
I knew she was trash, of course - just another one day wonder, her head full of diet plans and nail polish, stumbling after the kitten heels of Bridget Jones and her cronies. But that was okay. She'd sell. She'd sell like every other hot little marketing ploy sold.
On the face of it, of course, Beware the Dwarfs is a fairly cynical move, on everyone's part. It's chick-fic-by-numbers: the intertwined stories of five young women and the men they sleep with - the paperback equivalent of a girlie slumber party. Tha laydeez discuss fashion, hairstyles and men; sometimes they go shopping; sometimes they get laid. It's all as calculated a crowd-pleaser as you're likely to encounter this year.
As such, it's actually highly enjoyable: two hundred and fifty pages of pure fluff, though told with enough wit and style to keep the reader attentive from first to last.
Unfortunately, though, it aspires to greater things. Like every porn star who writes writes 'Actress' on her CV, the novel has a fevered urge towards respectability, starting with the blurb on the back, which tries hard to make out it's all terribly deep really, about 'the dark underside of contemporary female friendships'.
Oh, and incidentally, for those of you who were wondering, the titular dwarfs are symbolic, standing for all those small people who 'try to belittle your ambitions.' There's an agenda at work, people: Paddock wants very badly to make out that she's doing some kind of searing study of nineties woman, empowerment, and career girl angst, rather than the straightforward tale of twentysomethings shagging each other.
Sadly, though, the book never really comes off that way, and despite the occasional attempts at greater depth and a grappling with Serious Issues, Beware the Dwarfs never amounts to much more than a cheap though amusing thrill: a low-budget tart, with a heart of pure marshmallow.
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