Caught In a Bad Romance with BAD MARIE

2010 at 5am     Posted by Rebecca Joines Schinsky

Published June 2010 by HarperPerennial

You know a book is good when it inspires me to bastardize Lady Gaga lyrics.

Or it’s a sign of the coming apocalypse.

In the case of Marcy Dermansky’s Bad Marie, the book is fabulous, and I want all of the love and none of the revenge. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I had high hopes for Bad Marie long before we met face-to-face, as several trusted friends raved about it and told me I simply had to read it, and it didn’t disappoint. In fact, it was love from the very first line…but that’s not hard to believe when the first line is this:

Sometimes, Marie got a little drunk at work.

And she doesn’t just get drunk. She gets drunk and falls asleep in the bathtub with the little girl she is babysitting. And the girl’s parents (a friend of Marie’s from childhood and her husband, who happens to be an author whose book Marie adores) come home and find them there. Marie drunk and naked and asleep. In the bathtub.

For most people this would be a disaster, but Marie, who should come off as a hot mess but is instead charming and sympathetic, spins it to her favor. She seduces her friend’s husband, Benoît Doniel, whom she thinks of as “the world’s most attractive, underappreciated living French author,” and they run off to Paris with his child in tow.

Oh, and have I mentioned that all of this happens shortly after Marie is released from prison, where she served six years for being an accessory to murder and armed robbery?

To say that our girl Marie “suffered from lapses in acceptable behavior” would be an understatement, but that’s exactly how Dermansky says it, and let me tell you, it works beautifully. Marie is self-absorbed and in fact cannot remember “the last time she had taken any interest in anything besides herself,” but Dermansky makes her irresistible. Sure, she runs off with her friend’s husband and kidnaps their child and has absolutely no concept of boundaries or appropriate behavior or sexual propriety (and that’s just the tip of the iceberg), but when she feels like “she [is] the only person alive with any integrity,” we kinda sorta feel that way too.

And here’s why: Marie is bad, and she knows it. And Dermansky knows it. And we know. So the jig is up. It would be easy to write this story and make Marie the character we love to hate. It would be easy to vilify her and invite us to judge her or allow us to feel self-righteous for being better than she is (even though it’s not hard to be less bad than Marie). What isn’t easy is taking a character whom we *should* hate and making us pull for her, and that is what makes Bad Marie so remarkable.

Dermansky tells Marie’s story with a cool detachment and a fabulous matter-of-fact-ness that tells us, right from the start, that this is just the way things are. Marie is Marie, and that is the state of the world, and we’d be better off not to question it. Then she proceeds to give us a hundred reasons to hate Marie while simultaneously making it impossible to do so.  Marie is selfish and immature and short-sighted, and she makes really, really bad choices.

She’s the girl you parents warn you to stay away from, and that makes her all the more desirable.

I tore through Bad Marie and loved every minute of it, and, well, that’s all I’m going to say. At 211 pages, Bad Marie is a small book with a big voice, and you won’t regret giving it a few hours of your time. 4 out of 5.

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