The simultaneous failure and masterstroke of this book is, of course, the fact that Bridget Jones is everyone. It’s a delightfully funny romp of a book; the pages turn quickly and the laughs come easily because every reader identifies with Bridget’s misfortune and neuroticism. But the fact that most readers will identify with her means that she’s probably not individualized enough—except in her case, with her zany ways, it’s likely that she’s too much of an individual, which paradoxically makes her an archetype. If that makes any sense…Really, though, this isn’t the type of book where such a criticism matters. It’s a book to be enjoyed quickly, in the brief moments where you’re not, like Bridget, obsessing over your love life or career or appearance. I found it impressive that although many of these characters are frequently unlikeable (Bridget herself is horrible when her friend Tom “disappears”), they are all so easy to sympathize with. Although I haven’t read much “chick-lit” and I also despise that term, I am willing to bet this is a highlight of the genre. For the most part, it’s light and funny, but it also puts emphasis on significant current social issues, particularly those concerning the role of “modern” women. And for that reason, I expect Bridget Jones’s Diary will, despite its fluffy exterior, go down in the literary annals because it quite accurately represents the major anxieties facing women in the beginning of the 21st century while managing to be witty and charming. Immediate ThoughtsI never ever thought I'd enjoy a "chick-lit" book this much. But Bridget Jones was hilarious...even though I think her kooky mother was the real star!