Our pursuit of love consumes us, and yet we spend more time gathering food and working jobs so we can pay for all we need to pursue love, and buy food. Life goes on, it would seem, regardless, and increasingly our idealistic notions of perfect love are confined to the escapist excitement we find in books, on film and somehow stuck inside mobile phones. How is this accomplished and is everyone doing it? Perfection is the apex of an opaque element. Yet perfection is achievable through personal definition. If a female character is fully-developed then her ideal husband is possible and ripe for creation. In guides on finding your ideal partner candidates are told to narrow their perimeters, to become more specific and less easy-going slut. It's an interesting tactic, the summary being that once you know exactly the type you seek you are more likely to find that special desirable someone.
In the Hilary Duff-starring Perfect Man, The our titular character is portrayed by Chris Noth, he of Mr. Big fame. For those not acquainted with Sex and the City, or those able to day-dream without Hollywood's assistance, the perfect man they conjure up will rarely resemble Chris Noth, and he will never do the Times Crossword in pen. In pen, man? How brazen and self-assured! What a risk-taker! So domestic and yet adventurous. Maybe there are quite a few people who would be into bringing over a bottle of wine and dressing up as a New York Times crossword and having Chris Noth scrawl all over them with his pen... If we are to take the film at its word the Perfect Man also manages a restaurant and allows teenage girls to wander his luxurious apartment. Of course, the perfect man doesn't feature in Perfect Man, The because Perfect Man, The isn't a perfectly-written feature film.
Throughout the rich, romantic canon of Mills & Boon novels, the perfect man has many constants. As we have seen, there are lumberjacks and cops and doctors and builders and PR-gurus. Something suggests the last one is the odd man out. Women clearly like their men practical, physical and capable of fixing things around the house. They do not go weak at the knees or dilated of the pupils over feeble intellectuals who hire help in. If there's one thing romantics and bloggers regrettably learn, it is that women would rather do the help. Thus, we conclude that Mills & Boon's are no longer the fairytale scenarios of yesteryear. Gallant knights and charming princes have no modern equivalents. A mysterious biker in one such book was quickly stripped of his enigma and revealed as a hands-on property renovator with Daddy issues. These stories aren't for the Twilight-obsessed youth who prefer their boys brooding, dark and clad in leather. If we see a man brooding and clad in leather nowadays we direct him to Soho and pity his parents. No, a happy-ever-after-ending requires a man capable of commitment, supportive of his wife's ambitions and willing to get in under the sink with a wrench to stop that tap from leaking.
Mills & Boon is obsessed with sheiks and Mediterranean tycoons. Both are old-fashioned staples of the romance world, and they are often portrayed as cruel, sexist tyrants who the heroine must teach a lesson in respect, before she submits to marriage and a lifetime of whatever happens once you're married to a Middle Eastern sheik. Surely this isn't the fantasised set-up for a lifetime of wedded bliss, although sheiks remain very popular among readers. There is the other-worldly exotic element, the ladies do love foreigners, but from a narrative point of view the selling point is the challenge. After all, if the perfect man appears on page one what's a girl to do for two-hundred pages, besides swoon?
Authors struggle so hard to give their heroes a flaw the assembly line of dreamy men appear as Hugh Jackman in a variety of disguises. Hugh Jackman has a beard, Hugh Jackman has trouble counting to seven, Hugh Jackman has a tower sticking out of his head, Hugh Jackman cannot commit to a woman, Hugh Jackman doesn't care about your problems, Hugh Jackman has metal claws shooting from his knuckles and so on. In Finding Nick, the finding part is quickly solved, leaving the Nick element to make up the rest of the story. Nick (Italian-American Hugh Jackman) has a few hang-ups, both emotional and physical, but beneath it all there stands the perfect man for our heroine, a feisty and determined journalist named Shannon. A journalist, you ask? How can journalists fall in love when none of them have souls? Hush now, anonymous cynic, you haven't heard the worst of it yet. When even the author's name is a heavy-handed sexual euphemism you know what to expect from the sweaty book you hold in your manicured hands. Janis Reams Hudson (Heh heh) writes lines such as, 'It had been years since he'd had the privilege of touching a woman's breasts.' Once she has written enough lines as good as this one she links them arbitrarily by a barely-discernible plot and then sends it to her Mills & Boon publishers, who, apparently, don't even bother to check for typos.
While Shannon cruises through the book with no evident flaws (besides being a journalist), the object of her affection seems burdened with enough for both of them. Nick Carlucci may be a hunky Italian with a great body, tanned skin and thick black hair, but years ago he was a firefighter and 9/11 hero, celebrated for his bravery in rescuing survivors, though he was unable to save his brother and father, who perished in the towers. Five years later Nick has limped away from New York and alcoholism to settle, unnoticed, with his aunt in the small Texas town of Tribute. He works as a janitor in a staid, sexy and solitary existence, hoping a beautiful woman will turn up out the blue to test if his manhood still works. It is then that Shannon, a beautiful woman, shows up, seeking Nick for an interview. She is compiling a book dealing with the continuing fall-out of September 11th and the psychological devastation it has wrought on the bereaved. Despite their instant attraction and a laughably inexplicable bond that links them, Nick refuses to be interviewed, but does sleep with Shannon and proceed to fall in love with her. Shannon finds this deal amicable and all the sex finally persuades Nick to reveal his inner demons to her, which helps him overcome his hang-ups, leading to a happy reconciliation in New York. Nick is a changed man and doesn't have to live in Texas anymore. Yay! Shannon remains a journalist. Boo!
It is unclear if Nick and Shannon are perfect for one another. The banter between them during their dates causes embarrassment, awkward silences and the need to end every other sentence with, 'Honest,' or 'I'm kidding!' Hudson's treatment of 9/11 isn't sensationalist and her book is far too lightweight and superficial to offend anyone. Still, this hardly does justice to the myriad of issues plaguing poor Nick, who shoulders his mighty burdens with a shrug and impish grin. For all of the author's attempts to suggest perfection, her writing betrays her, and yet, by the book's climax as Shannon and Nick kiss and hug, we leave them in a happy state of exoneration from grief. Shannon has saved Nick from his guilt and although he was unable to save her from her career, they will be happy for a few months. Check Word Count. Move on. So, what have we learnt from all this, besides someone should write a Mills & Boon with the lead characters Janis and Hudson? Well, we learned we won't be reading anymore Janis Reams Hudson books. We learned there isn't a subject matter that 9/11 can't add undeserved emotional weight to, and finally we have learnt that one can mix business and pleasure, rendering the only obstacle that stood between Nick and Shannon mute for future generations. Anything else? No, that's all we learned. Now go to sleep.
In the Hilary Duff-starring Perfect Man, The our titular character is portrayed by Chris Noth, he of Mr. Big fame. For those not acquainted with Sex and the City, or those able to day-dream without Hollywood's assistance, the perfect man they conjure up will rarely resemble Chris Noth, and he will never do the Times Crossword in pen. In pen, man? How brazen and self-assured! What a risk-taker! So domestic and yet adventurous. Maybe there are quite a few people who would be into bringing over a bottle of wine and dressing up as a New York Times crossword and having Chris Noth scrawl all over them with his pen... If we are to take the film at its word the Perfect Man also manages a restaurant and allows teenage girls to wander his luxurious apartment. Of course, the perfect man doesn't feature in Perfect Man, The because Perfect Man, The isn't a perfectly-written feature film.
Throughout the rich, romantic canon of Mills & Boon novels, the perfect man has many constants. As we have seen, there are lumberjacks and cops and doctors and builders and PR-gurus. Something suggests the last one is the odd man out. Women clearly like their men practical, physical and capable of fixing things around the house. They do not go weak at the knees or dilated of the pupils over feeble intellectuals who hire help in. If there's one thing romantics and bloggers regrettably learn, it is that women would rather do the help. Thus, we conclude that Mills & Boon's are no longer the fairytale scenarios of yesteryear. Gallant knights and charming princes have no modern equivalents. A mysterious biker in one such book was quickly stripped of his enigma and revealed as a hands-on property renovator with Daddy issues. These stories aren't for the Twilight-obsessed youth who prefer their boys brooding, dark and clad in leather. If we see a man brooding and clad in leather nowadays we direct him to Soho and pity his parents. No, a happy-ever-after-ending requires a man capable of commitment, supportive of his wife's ambitions and willing to get in under the sink with a wrench to stop that tap from leaking.
Mills & Boon is obsessed with sheiks and Mediterranean tycoons. Both are old-fashioned staples of the romance world, and they are often portrayed as cruel, sexist tyrants who the heroine must teach a lesson in respect, before she submits to marriage and a lifetime of whatever happens once you're married to a Middle Eastern sheik. Surely this isn't the fantasised set-up for a lifetime of wedded bliss, although sheiks remain very popular among readers. There is the other-worldly exotic element, the ladies do love foreigners, but from a narrative point of view the selling point is the challenge. After all, if the perfect man appears on page one what's a girl to do for two-hundred pages, besides swoon?
Authors struggle so hard to give their heroes a flaw the assembly line of dreamy men appear as Hugh Jackman in a variety of disguises. Hugh Jackman has a beard, Hugh Jackman has trouble counting to seven, Hugh Jackman has a tower sticking out of his head, Hugh Jackman cannot commit to a woman, Hugh Jackman doesn't care about your problems, Hugh Jackman has metal claws shooting from his knuckles and so on. In Finding Nick, the finding part is quickly solved, leaving the Nick element to make up the rest of the story. Nick (Italian-American Hugh Jackman) has a few hang-ups, both emotional and physical, but beneath it all there stands the perfect man for our heroine, a feisty and determined journalist named Shannon. A journalist, you ask? How can journalists fall in love when none of them have souls? Hush now, anonymous cynic, you haven't heard the worst of it yet. When even the author's name is a heavy-handed sexual euphemism you know what to expect from the sweaty book you hold in your manicured hands. Janis Reams Hudson (Heh heh) writes lines such as, 'It had been years since he'd had the privilege of touching a woman's breasts.' Once she has written enough lines as good as this one she links them arbitrarily by a barely-discernible plot and then sends it to her Mills & Boon publishers, who, apparently, don't even bother to check for typos.
While Shannon cruises through the book with no evident flaws (besides being a journalist), the object of her affection seems burdened with enough for both of them. Nick Carlucci may be a hunky Italian with a great body, tanned skin and thick black hair, but years ago he was a firefighter and 9/11 hero, celebrated for his bravery in rescuing survivors, though he was unable to save his brother and father, who perished in the towers. Five years later Nick has limped away from New York and alcoholism to settle, unnoticed, with his aunt in the small Texas town of Tribute. He works as a janitor in a staid, sexy and solitary existence, hoping a beautiful woman will turn up out the blue to test if his manhood still works. It is then that Shannon, a beautiful woman, shows up, seeking Nick for an interview. She is compiling a book dealing with the continuing fall-out of September 11th and the psychological devastation it has wrought on the bereaved. Despite their instant attraction and a laughably inexplicable bond that links them, Nick refuses to be interviewed, but does sleep with Shannon and proceed to fall in love with her. Shannon finds this deal amicable and all the sex finally persuades Nick to reveal his inner demons to her, which helps him overcome his hang-ups, leading to a happy reconciliation in New York. Nick is a changed man and doesn't have to live in Texas anymore. Yay! Shannon remains a journalist. Boo!
It is unclear if Nick and Shannon are perfect for one another. The banter between them during their dates causes embarrassment, awkward silences and the need to end every other sentence with, 'Honest,' or 'I'm kidding!' Hudson's treatment of 9/11 isn't sensationalist and her book is far too lightweight and superficial to offend anyone. Still, this hardly does justice to the myriad of issues plaguing poor Nick, who shoulders his mighty burdens with a shrug and impish grin. For all of the author's attempts to suggest perfection, her writing betrays her, and yet, by the book's climax as Shannon and Nick kiss and hug, we leave them in a happy state of exoneration from grief. Shannon has saved Nick from his guilt and although he was unable to save her from her career, they will be happy for a few months. Check Word Count. Move on. So, what have we learnt from all this, besides someone should write a Mills & Boon with the lead characters Janis and Hudson? Well, we learned we won't be reading anymore Janis Reams Hudson books. We learned there isn't a subject matter that 9/11 can't add undeserved emotional weight to, and finally we have learnt that one can mix business and pleasure, rendering the only obstacle that stood between Nick and Shannon mute for future generations. Anything else? No, that's all we learned. Now go to sleep.
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