Book Review: Cocktails at Naptime
Cocktails at Naptime is a lighthearted look at motherhood. I agree 1000 per cent (yes, I wrote 1000) that we are long overdue a humorous look at the birthing process and early motherhood days.
Every book for new mums so ‘worthy’ (although, I must insert disclaimer here and say I have not read Kaz Cook’s books, not for any reason other than I haven’t got around to it and I understand they are hilarious). So Cocktails at Naptime is, in my view, right on the money in terms of its philosophy: we’re all so serious about motherhood. This book takes a different tack, revealing what’s in store for mums-to-be in those early days of motherhood while at the same time drawing a comedic bow across the topic.
Unfortunately, humour is a funny thing (pun intended) and I’m not sure why, but the comedy in Cocktails left me a little disappointed. I just didn’t find it funny. Perhaps I was expecting too much, a rollicking LOL experience that didn't materialise. That’s not to say that others won’t. I’m sure many, many mothers will see the humour in what writers Gillian Martin and Emma Kaufmann put forth. They write with authority and experience and they do write well; in that style that really good bloggers have mastered of being conversational without being grammatically nonsensical. It's an informal style of writing that has evolved with the blogosphere and really appeals to women.
At first, I thought I might be missing the humour possibly because the writers are English and their humour is a bit in the style of Dawn French and Jennifer Saunders. But a cursory glance of the dust jacket reveals, Gillian Martin is based in Aberdeen (presumably Scottish, although not definitely) and Emma Kaufmann is based in Baltimore in the US. They are both enormously successful bloggers (according to the dust jacket) and met online, exchanged emails and decided to write a book together. They’ve never met in person, the dust jacket further reveals.
These girls are living my dream - bloggers who got a book written via email (while quaffing "several gallons of chardonnay"). And I really wanted to love this book. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad book. In fact, it’s a great book. It’s great for a bunch of reasons; namely, it removes some of the seriousness of motherhood (although other books have done that), but it’s also irreverent. The writers label lactation specialists Boob Fascists and experienced midwives as Angry Dragon Lady or A Bloody Pain In The Arse. They cast a withering glare over every aspect of motherhood, from peritoneum tearing to postnatal baby blues, and declare the whole lot cause for cocktails. A sentiment I heartily endorse. But it fell just short of my funny bone most of the time. Maybe it’s just me? They describe visiting hour in the hospital when relatives arrive to see the baby:
“Visiting hour begins. The grandparents arrive to see their grandchild and the Dance of the Competitive Grandmothers begins. It is a dance that will last until either of them dies. Your mum cries when she sees you, not because she is proud of you (although you know she is) but because she’s never seen you look so shit. Not since you came back from that music festival with a facial piercing and had your head ill-advisedly shaved by a naked hippy. She cried then too.”
The tone really does remind me of French and Saunders, not sure why, so much so that I could almost hear them delivering some of the lines. But I adore French and Saunders and find them hysterically funny. On TV, that is. I tried reading Dawn French’s memoirs, Dear Fatty, and found it tedious. She’s very, very funny to watch, but somehow that doesn’t translate to the written word and I fear it’s possibly the same for Martin and Kaufmann.
I really don’t want to diss this book. It’s a good book for all the important reasons – it shines a big ol’ spotlight on every teeny tiny aspect of motherhood that the other books gloss over (such as peritoneum tearing, which I hadn’t even heard of until I was in labour!), it also takes a lighthearted look at the whole business of motherhood, the wifely arts (as my own hubby likes to call it) and everything in between. I really did enjoy the book. I just didn’t find it particularly funny. Insightful, yes. Amusing, definitely. Honest, without doubt.
I enjoyed the book and I give it a solid 7/10.
