Abandon hope all ye who enter here

Hell Hath No Fury: Women's Letters from the End of the Affair
Anna Holmes, editor

Last year, a little movie called The Break-Up came out that you may or may not have seen. I certainly didn’t go to see it in the theater, as I (a) never go to the movies and (b) thought the movie looked as boring and unfunny as hell.

I was right.

Months later, bored with nothing to do, I came across the film on HBO. I was too tired to read, too lazy to leave the house; I was all discombobulated. Fine, I thought, I’ll watch this stupid movie. And a stupid movie it was.

Actually, it wasn’t so stupid as it was utterly, utterly painful to watch. I’m sure all of us have been the uncomfortable witness to a couple (whether it be our parents, friends, or even strangers in a restaurant – true story, only I was on the wrong end of that one) viciously skewering one another by bringing up every imaginable detail of their relationship.

The Break-Up was exactly the same way. I watched my parents’ marriage spiral toward divorce; why on earth would I want to watch a movie that makes me relive all those moments? (I was suckered by the presence of Vince Vaughn. Usually he equals funny, but not even he could redeem this movie.) Depressing does not even begin to describe it. Imagine watching two people bitch at one another for almost two full hours. Sure, there is some “plot” thrown in there as they stop bitching for a minute in order to “do something,” but really, it’s two hours of bitching. Ugh.

Unfortunately, Hell Hath No Fury: Women's Letters from the End of the Affair is exactly like The Break-Up. The only difference is that I paid for the former with actual money, while I paid for the latter with a tiny bit of my soul. Actually, I’d rather lose the money.

Hell Hath No Fury: Women's Letters from the End of the Affair is a collection of, you guessed it, angry women’s letters to the men who did them wrong. This collection is truly all-encompassing, containing thirteen types of letters (for example, the tell-off, the autopsy, the divorce letter, the “dear John,” the marriage refusal, etc.). The authors of these letters range from the fictional (including one from Austen’s Sense and Sensibility), the classic (including one by Ovid), to letters written by nobodies, literary greats, and even nobility (Henry VIII receives more than one letter in this collection).

While this collection appears fascinating on a superficial level, the problems here are several:

The first is what I like to describe as The Break-Up factor: they’re painful. They’re not fun, they’re not funny – instead, they will take you right back to the worst relationship you’ve ever had and make you want to stab yourself in the eyeball while you’re at it. Reading the entire thing straight through will surely result in suicide. Unless you’re a virgin, and in that case reading all of these letters will probably scare you from ever venturing near another’s genitalia.

Secondly, this is not a book even possible to read all the way through, because it’s just not that interesting. Honestly. You’d think it might be, containing as it were a lot of funny “and your dick is small, too!” comments, but really, these letters aren’t funny, not even in bits. They’re all just kinda sad and pathetic, and not interesting enough to read even more than one at a time.

And thirdly, well, there is no thirdly. I thought it would be interesting, it wasn’t. Color me duped. (To be fair, the book achieves what it sets out to do; my lack of enjoyment can be blamed only on myself.)

In a nutshell: Not really interesting to read, but it is a good reference if you ever need to write your own “fuck-you” letter. I’m sure with a little tweaking here and there you could use the book to write a letter to any person, even one with whom you do not have a romantic relationship.

Bibliolatry Scale: 2 out of 6 stars