Book Review — Can You Keep A Secret? by Sophie Kinsella

Can You Keep A Secret? by Sophie Kinsella is a book based on the protagonist, Emma Corrigan, and her dire inability to control her tongue. More than often she lands herself in big trouble. One plane ride, drunk and absolutely in no control of her senses, she blurts out every single secret of hers to the passenger sitting beside her. Later, in a more sober state, she is horrified at the blunder she made. As a human, naturally she tries to justify the mistake by thinking that its not as if she would meet that person again. Wishful thinking that was! The Gods seem to have something else in mind for her. When she finds out that the “stranger” is none other than her new boss, she is utterly humiliated. How is she to ever face him, especially when he knows every embarrassing detail that she even hid from her bestfriend?!

I love Sophie Kinsella. Everybody knows what a FAB job she did on the Shopaholic series. What’s not to love about her books?! This one is just as fantastic as all the others. Its a light, girly, rom-com read. Emma Corrigan is a bubbly character with a wee bit of self-esteem issue. As in she is keeps dwelling on her problems and drowning in self pity. But then again, it gets a little hard to switch on the positivity when you think your parents prefer your cousin over you. So its understandable. She is also the kind of person to say a lie than speak the bitter truth just so as to please the other person. So one by one, all that keeps piling up and she is soon entangled in a web of lies. The book was hilarious, down right to the ROFL moments. I couldn’t help laughing out loud a lot throughout the book. You can totally relate to Emma’s thoughts (at times!), they are quite amusing! The author has portrayed her character well as a city girl who loves branded goods and works to have a good social standing among her colleagues. I did pity Emma. A lot. Its not fair how her parents treat her as if she is some third wheel. They totally stab at her sense of belonging, making her feel like an outsider. On purpose or not, they should’ve been more supportive of her.
Then we have the handsome “stranger” who is privy to Emma’s deepest darkest secrets. Jack Harper, being the male lead of this novel, is a gallant and amiable character. He may appear to be all authoritative as the CEO but there is also playful side to him. He is the helping hand that Emma reaches out to.
Overall, its a good book. I liked it. You should read it if you haven’t. 🙂

Ratings – 4 stars on 5.



Addicted For Life

For years books have effectively played the part of entertainment as well as providing knowledge.
I was barely out of middle school when I got hooked onto the habit. Ever since, my mother has found it practically impossible to pry me apart from these wondrous creations. It got to such an extreme height of addiction where, I would profusely beg my friends to issue books for me from the library. Unable to contain myself with the “one book per week” allotted to us students, I would devour the pages of these books, mesmerised and spellbound. Soon I could easily read up atleast 2-3 books a week & yet my hunger for more refused to die down. I was becoming more greedy! 😛

Somewhere along the line, I started getting attached to the characters. Sympathising with them, I would always find bits and pieces of myself in these characters. What I ought to remind myself is that “its fiction. None of that is real”. But it became easier to overlook such criteria. If the protagonist was hurting, I’d get pangs too. That is the problem with getting too attached. That is the problem with not being able to keep things at an arms distance.
Fiction is nothing but a peek at something that is not real or perhaps could be metaphoric for something real. But the stories woven from scratch by many intelligible authors, stringed together with human emotions seemed nothing but true in all sincerity.

Its not up until recently that I began realizing the effect these stories have on me. Evoking the soft side in me that rarely makes an appearance otherwise. I would sit shocked, rendered speechless by the enormity of a sharp ending of a book. Slowly, separating all the jumbled thoughts, I have to firmly remind myself that they are not true but just a figment of someone’s creative imagination. These books have as much power over me as a voodoo puppet would have on its victim. Dragging me into a land of oblivion , everything else subsides to the back of my mind.

For better or for worse, they have always kept me company. Never truly alone, I am comforted by the feel of pages beneath my finger tips and the smell that lingers on newly published books (as well as those which have seen a good deal of wear and tear in its time).
Such is an addiction, that I refuse to give up. That I wish to carry with me, for the rest of my vigorous life.