Dangerous Curves Ahead by Sugar Jamison is about Ellis, a fat women whose body is not described in any other way, used to date a lawyer who put her down. After she ditches him, Ellis quits her lucrative lawyer gig and starts her own business selling clothes to women who don’t have standard-sized bodies. The novel opens with Ellis getting a cookie from Hot Lava Java on a Tuesday. She never eats sugar or fat except on the weekends, so this is a risky move, apparently. There, she runs into her ex’s aunt, who tries to get Ellis to head to the aunt’s diet and fitness store to get this fat girl back on track to a thin, thin life.
Although Ellis fends for her dignity in this conversation, the man in line behind her jumps in, too. It’s then Ellis remembers who he is: a guy named Mike she knew four years ago from the neighborhood whom she privately had a crush on, even after her sister started sleeping with him. Ellis knows Mike, but he can’t place her. This game of nanny-nanny boo-boo, am I driving you nutty with the mystery carries on for at least two hours in the audiobook. That’s when I turned it off and marked Dangerous Curves Ahead DNF on Goodreads.
But why quit this potentially fat-positive novel? There were aspects that made me flippity-flop all over the place. I have no clue what Ellis looks like other than fat. Often described as curvy and soft, she’s potentially Lane Bryant fat, which feels so cheap to me. Authors, you don’t need to write a person who’s Not That Fat to have romance. But she’s still viewed as a person of worth, one who has a law degree, a business, loyal friends and employees, and now a police officer who has appeared from her past and seems to like her. Yay! But Mike constantly objectifies Ellis, thinking about her hips and buttocks and waist. Not great. Plus, I hate that Mike is smoking hot in that good ol’ fire-fighter, lumberjack, washboard abs way. Do fat women deserve love? Yes! Can they love fat men? Yes! Do they have to love fat men? No! Are many novelists simply writing the same shallow romance plot from the past and simply making the heroine “curvy”? Yes! Boooo.
I’m also not a fan of every fat woman having an obsession with fashion, being chic, crafty, and clever with clothes she often tailors herself. *sigh* Do fat women have to be fashionable? No! But lots of fat women love fashion… I hear my inner voice claim. Is that so bad? No.
And then, as if I had dropped a drug that opened my mind (I didn’t; I was commuting), I finally put together what bugs me about a lot of fat female characters: the authors have no sense of intersectionality. Let me break down what I realized:
Ellis does not have a fat-positive mindset. Yes, she stands up for herself when someone is demeaning her. But she’s also food restricting and thinks about how no one ever loves fat girls like her. Mike likes to say, “You’re not fat,” thereby erasing a part of her existence that she wears on the outside and can be seen by everyone. What we’re really hearing is, “Yes, you’re bigger than thin, but your not so fat that I wouldn’t have sex with you.” Fat people aren’t just fat. They live in fat bodies, which affects their experiences traveling, sitting, driving, shopping, working, and interacting with other people. A fat body isn’t just something we say; it changes a person’s whole existence. Jamison fails to acknowledge how Ellis moves through the world in Dangerous Curves Ahead.
Then, there’s Ellis’s gender: straight cis woman. When Mike objectifies her in an effort to prove that he’s attracted to her not-that-fat body, he’s breaking her down into components, which is sexist to all women. He can’t reject her fat body and pretend like he’s humanizing her by using sexist logic to patronize her feelings. Ellis also measures her worth by noting Mike wouldn’t sleep with girls who look like her four years ago, and the narrator assures us he’s different now. Women aren’t waiting for a man to have sex with them to prove they are worthy. As a woman, Ellis’s experiences are different from Mike’s in the sense that she may not feel safe around him, and that to be treated with dignity, he needs to see her as a woman, not as an order from Kentucky Fried Chicken.
intelligence / able-minded identity
Furthermore, Ellis has a Harvard law degree, which readers are meant to read as “she’s brilliant.” After opening a clothing store that is struggling but not completely dead, we want to tune into her business acumen only to realize she’s so poor at math that she can’t balance her books and failed to obtain any money to advertise her store, choosing to decorate it instead. Why does she suddenly have zero preparedness, despite her background and goal-oriented mind? Ellis not only sells clothes, she’s a talented tailor who doesn’t come cheap. Somewhere in her life she learned a skill and mastered it.
And as soon as Ellis gets around Mike, she’s preaching about how he’ll only see her as a fat girl because he’s shallow then turning around to crush on him like a teen. This is a woman who is almost thirty. She also keeps a secret: she remembers Mike dating her sister, how Mike and her sister came to Ellis’s graduation party for passing the bar and ending up having sex on her bed. After two hours of audiobook, and several meetings between Ellis and Mike, her little “game” struck me as so juvenile that I realized the author failed to capture the intelligence of a woman who went to Harvard law, passed the bar, and litigated million-dollar lawsuits, surpassing her ex-boyfriend, who cheated on her because he was so intimidated. Where is that woman? Who is this lady playing high school games and forgetting how to add?
While Jamison gives Ellis some interesting attributes and makes an effort to contribute to the fat-positive fiction community with Dangerous Curves Ahead, she ultimately fails because she can’t write her character in a way that combines Ellis’s separate identities. She’s a brilliant, fat, talented women. Those things should never be separate, which causes a character to read as uneven. On the surface, Mike’s comments about Ellis’s body may seem romantic or sexy, but objectifying Ellis denies her intelligence and talent, and the inherent sexism in his point of view. When Ellis doesn’t defend herself, a verbal skill she should have mastered as a highly-educated former lawyer, the author forgets that her character really isn’t just a fat body to be socially measured. Plenty of romance writers craft stories that suggest men and women are always on equal footing, ignoring the dangers of dating and flirting in a female body.
Why did it take me so long to recognize where an author had failed at intersectionality? Probably because most writers talking about intersectionality are aware of their different identities, what burdens and benefits come with each, and how they are seen in society as all those things at once. With fiction, my brain is more willing to say, “It is what it is.” But while listening to Mike and Ellis banter like a grown sexy man trying to cheer up a little girl, I nearly swerved my car off the road in an effort to turn off the audiobook.