Sure, Miranda’s demands were unreasonable (the unpublished Harry Potter manuscript!), but really, after a decade, to still be having nightmares and to still go into panic attacks at the thought of encountering Miranda again? Andy: seek help. At one point, Emily tells her Miranda was a horrible boss, but hardly “the devil incarnate” and Andy scoffs at that, as presumably should the reader, but this reader at least agrees with Emily. So, when in Revenge Wears Prada, Andy suffers from PTSD-type symptoms from her experience, I felt like telling her to get over it.
As one of the interviewees in the Devil Wears Prada DVD extras points out, Meryl Streep has a natural seductiveness to her - even when being the boss from hell, she still manages to draw people in. Each time, however, the story shifts away back to Andy’s life now, and I keep wondering where Miranda went.Īgain, part of that might be because I have Meryl Streep’s Miranda Priestly in mind rather than the character Lauren Weisberger originally wrote. The few scenes she was in, she dominated, and each time I kept wanting to delve more into her story. Unfortunately, and this may be more the marketing department’s fault than the author’s, there was no epic revenge plot and Miranda was barely even in the book. (To the Miranda in my mind, no one really was worth wasting her time on.) Still, I figured if anyone can come up with an epic revenge plot, it would be Miranda Priestly. When I heard of the sequel, set ten years after the events of Devil Wears Prada, and the book blurb hinted that Miranda may be plotting something diabolical for Andy, my first thought was disbelief that someone like Miranda would waste her time on someone so insignificant. I did see myself in Andy, the wide-eyed fashion don’t who dreamed of a byline in the New York Times, but it was Miranda who made the story such a cultural icon. My mom originally bought me the first book because she thought that as an aspiring writer myself, I would relate to Andy. Biggest problem: too much Andy, not enough Miranda. I had high expectations for Revenge Wears Prada, and the book was a disappointment. And while I can barely remember the book apart from the movie, this sequel makes me think the author has a lot to thank the filmmakers for. But when I squee in delight at the idea of a sequel, and beg the publisher for a review copy, well, it’s the elegant, formidable Meryl Streep that’s in my mind.
I did read the book, and I do remember liking it. When I say I love The Devil Wears Prada, I’m really talking about the movie.
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