Before I got addicted to Korean dramas, my time was spent on another TV series on HBO called Sex and The City (SATC). HBO was showing the series only once a week and to feed my addiction, I got my brother who was working in Brunei then to buy me the pirated whole series box set. I was so into it that I told Mike I feel I’m a Manhattan girl. He replied, ya, until you have a craving for cha kway teow. (How well my hubby knows me!)
Even now when HBO shows SATC marathon during the weekends, I could watch 4-5 episodes in one go, until fatigue sets in.
Why do I enjoy the show? For the humour, the great script, the camaraderie between the girls and… Mr Big.
I tried to look for the book once but they were sold out at Borders and I promptly forgot about it until I found it in the library two weeks ago.
The book was first published in 1996, that long ago.
On the cover, Sunday Telegraph described the book as ‘Jane Austen with a Martini”. I realised why only at the end.
If you were expecting the book to be a written version of the TV series, it’s not. While the series centres around four women, the book does not. I got abit confused with the characters as described in the book. Carrie is still a journalist but Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha have different jobs in the book, and only a fleeting mention. Carrie has a thing going with Mr Big, and the gay community is very active with Stanford playing a central figure.
The book starts off like a sociology reseach paper on sex, where the author in the first person interviews various singles in New York on sex and relationships. There is a chapter on why relationships don’t last in NY, a profile of a serial dater, Models’ sex life, Threesome sex, relationship with bicycle boy, Male models, gays …
Let’s just say, there is nothing left uncovered about sex in the book but nothing dirty or pornographic about it, other than mentioning the sizes of ‘unmentionables’, which was hilarious. To give you some samples:
I think when men tell women to lose weight, it’s a diversion from their on lack of size in certain areas. (True?)
She said she’d just turned down a date with a beautifully eligible, recently divorced 41 year-old banker because his unmentionable was too small. “Index finger,” she sighed.
Midway, the book deviates into the relationship between Carrie and Mr Big, and the ‘I’ disappears.
Still, the readers are involved in the gossips of various characters, who mostly have glamourous jobs in the films and movies industries like directors and producers, or novelists and PR, giving you a glimpse of what is like living the high life in NY and being in the ‘IN’ circle. You are invited to the latest nightclubs and bars, the parties given by designers like Karl Lagerfeld, to experience the life of the rich and famous (travelling to St Barts, or Aspen in private jets).
Then there is Carrie and Mr Big. While Mr Big is how you see on TV, Carrie in the book is often drunk, having drugs or puking. At the end, Mr Big is happily married. Carrie is happily single.
I think I prefer the Tv series.