#13: The Favored Daughter: One Woman’s Fight to Lead Afghanistan into the Future by Fawzia Koofi

Prior knowledge and wild guesses about Afghanistan:

• Al-Qaeda
• Taliban
• We’re at war with them?  We went there because something.  Bin Laden, I think?  I should know this.
• We have troops on the ground.  It’s been like ten years.
• We’re leaving now.  Have we already left?
• People say it’s made up of isolated villages and cannot be considered a unified country because people who live there don’t even really know what a country is, let alone know that they live in Afghanistan
• I read A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini a long time ago.  Some women had more freedom and were forced to give it up when the Taliban came into power.
• I read Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi.  I know that it’s about Iran, but I think there might be some similarities.  Maybe?
• I could probably eventually find it on a map.
• I really don’t know anything abut Afghanistan, but I think life there sucks, especially for women.

I picked up The Favored Daughter after seeing an interview with Koofi on The Daily Show.  She was promoting her book, speaking about her plans to continue in Afghanistan’s government, and the importance of fighting for her country.  She was calm and serious and you could tell that she lives her life with clear purpose.  She doesn’t have time to waste time, especially knowing that people want to kill her.  She plans to run for president and knows her life will continue to be in danger.  John Stewart was clearly in awe of her and his sincerity and respect for her story made me want to get her book.

I wanted to know why she is willing to die for her country.

The Favored Daughter is a wonderful mix of memoir and history.  Koofi tells her life story through the politics of Afghanistan because she cannot separate the two.  When explaining why she had to drop out of medical school, she first has to explain how her country changed when other countries interfered.  She has to explain how quickly the Taliban moved in.  She needs you to understand that although it was a patriarchal society where women had little to no rights, some women did thrive in their households.  She knows she cannot explain why a husband would beat his wife so that they could both be proud, but she does want to show you the love and community of her people.  Families are huge and will always be welcomed and helped  however possible.

Her story starts out with her intended death.  Girls were useless and when her mother bore this daughter, she left her in the sun to die.  Koofi did not die and her mother vowed to love and protect her more than any of her children.  Koofi’s father had several wives and she had many brothers and sisters.  Her mother ruled that entire household and it was amazing to see how she managed the other wives in a way that created a family and kept jealousy and anger away.

Koofi was born willful and stubborn.  Refusing to die was the first of her many steps to change her life.  She persuaded her parents and brothers to allow her to attend school.  She was rarely dissuaded from goals.  She would achieve as much as her brothers, for she too was her father’s child.  In fact, she was the only girl child her father asked to see.

As Koofi got older, she saw the power and danger of politics.  Her father served as a government official and people respected him a great deal.  However, this also made him a target and he was assassinated.  During this time, Koofi’s older family members and their neighbors did their best to protect the younger children, especially the boys.

As war explodes in Afghanistan from within (and yes, I still cannot explain the specifics), Koofi and her mother go to Kabul where they are safe.  Koofi loves it there.  She is free to go to school, to wear shorter skirts and a bit of makeup (as long as her brothers don’t see) and walk the streets with her girl friends.  She is a strong student and plans on becoming a doctor.

And then the Taliban move in.

And they move in fast.

She hears tales of this extremist group but no one seems to understand the threat or see what is about to happen.  One day she was happily out with friends and then the very next day she wakes up to young members of the Taliban who refuse to let a woman leave her house without a burqa.  Men and women are randomly gathered to be beaten.  No one can figure out the rules.  A Taliban soldier might decide he’s bored and target someone for not upholding the tenets of what it means to be Muslim.   Men and women are whipped in the streets, their homes are raided, stores are destroyed and forced to close, and anyone can be sent to jail at any time, simply because the Taliban is suspicious of something.

Koofi’s heart breaks when this happens.  She is furious with this perversion of  her Muslim faith.  These men are extremists and she hates how they’ve twisted words to gain power and how they’ve poisoned the minds of Americans and others into believing that this is what it means to be Muslim.

She watches as men who are against what is happening are forced to join in so they can get a job to feed their families.  Some are willing to help quietly, knowing that they could be beaten or imprisoned themselves.  The theme of community and family come up again and again as Koofi shows the kindness of her fellow Afghani.  On the other hand, young men who had no power before the Taliban came in are now greedy with their new positions.  They happily and mercilessly beat women in the streets.  They gleefully collect contraband and destroy it in front of families.  The report everyone they see.  They’ve been given power and it corrupts them quickly and completely.

Koofi watches in horror and shame as her country destroys knowledge and culture.  The Buddhas of Bamiyan are destroyed.  Colleges are shut down.  There is no entertainment.  Wedding ceremonies and celebrations are forbidden.  It’s painful and nearly unbearable, especially since such a short time ago Koofi and other women were able to go to school, to learn, and to begin better lives than their mothers had.  They still have moments of love and safety behind closed doors, but bombs have begun to fall and no one knows where the next threat will come from.

Koofi’s brother arranges a marriage for her, and she is pleased with the man, Hamid.  He came several times to seek Koofi from her brother and was turned away again and again.  He finally persuades the family and they are married, but without the traditional ceremony and celebration, which Koofi aches for.

They have two daughters.  Hamid is delighted with the first, but angry at the second for not being a boy.  Koofi never gets over this betrayal and anger.  However, she does not have much time to dwell on her hurt.  Soon after they marry, Hamid is thrown into jail by the Taliban.  Koofi goes there every day, demanding his release.  She doesn’t not know what the charges are or what is happening to him.  He is finally released and comes home, sick and weak.  She becomes pregnant with their second daughter, but he is taken in again.  This time he gets tuberculosis and they both know he will not live long.

As her story continues, she explains the changes in her country and her different levels of freedom helped me understand what was happening.  The women have their rights taken away, given back, made strong, made weaker, and all of this spurs Koofi into action.  A new government is being formed and it is time for her to take her family’s place.

She seeks the approval from her brothers, and of course is told she is forbidden. They have chosen the family’s candidate and will not let their sister be involved. Like always, she simply refused to hear the word “no” and pushes and pushes until they back down.  Although the ballots were tampered with, she wins.

And then she soars.

Watching her come into her own power is amazing and fantastic and humbled me greatly.  She’s given up everything in order to give others more.  She knows if she continues to work and work and work and make people from her country and from other countries listen, she will make Afghanistan stronger.  She loves her country.  She loves her countrymen.  She loves who she is and what she can do.

It’s beautiful.

I  hate that I’m waiting to hear a news story that she’s been killed.

She has been attacked several times and knows that her convoys are being monitored.  She travels throughout her country to speak with different members of different villages.  She is shocked into tears many times when elders greet her as her father’s daughter and respect her because they loved him.

Each chapter of the book starts out with a letter to her two daughters, Shuhra and Shaharzad.  She talks to them briefly about her history, their country’s history, and why she must dedicate her life to the people.  She often speaks candidly about the fact that people want her dead.  She acknowledges that she feels like she is abandoning them when she travels.  She lets them know how proud of them she is and how her mother would have loved them so much.  It’s inspiring and sad and makes me realize that I really don’t have any idea what’s happening in our world.

Again, I really liked how she tells her story through Afghanistan’s story.  She simply cannot separate the two because she is the child of her country and this connection has brought her through the terrifying times and pushed her through the ranks of Parliament.  There is much corruption in Afghanistan (and really, anywhere there are politicians) and she seeks to end it.  The largest part of her platform is women’s rights.  She is a threat to many in the country and this just makes her stronger.

If you know little to nothing about Afghanistan (that would be me!) then this is a great book because it explains things without being too overwhelming.  I’m not much interested in further reading, but I bet many people have gone on to read more about the country.  If you know a lot about Afghanistan, then I think this book will still be good for you because you get to follow one person and see the changes from a first hand view.

This was a good read.  It wasn’t a quick one, but it was fascinating and inspiring and I look forward to seeing what else she will do with her life.  I hope that it will be a long life.

#6: Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress: Tales of Growing up Groovy and Clueless by Susan Jane Gilman

Disclaimer: I read this book in 2008.  My book group chose it and I happily reread it.  I looked at the review I wrote when I originally read it, and honestly, I don’t need to change it.  So here it is:

Gilman’s writing style is amazing. Several times I had to put the book down because I was laughing so hard. She has a great take of growing up as a full on feminist, but at the same time becoming giddy with delight when Mick Jagger points out that she’s got huge boobs. This is a woman who’s been everywhere and done everything, and it’s a brilliant read. The book starts off with her at four years old, the daughter of hippies, prancing around in a tutu and figuring out how to rule the world. Her first foray into stardom comes in the form of an independent film that has her skipping around naked with another 4 year old, trying to catch a butterfly. We end with Susan getting married and having a total meltdown in the middle of a David’s Bridal when she finds a wedding dress that looks amazing on her. The plan was to be married in red or black satin, but she stands on the pedestal in the middle of the store for *four hours*, trying to come to terms with the fact that she loves this pouffy white dress, even though it represents everything she hates. In between she writes for a Jewish newspaper, which leads to her accompanying a group of Jewish teens on a trip through the concentration camps in Poland. She’s accidentally labeled “that lesbian Jewish writer” and suddenly receives call after call from unhappy Jewish moms who just want their gay daughters to meet someone nice, and is she doing anything this Saturday? Her parents get divorced and suddenly develop personalities, she jets off to work for a congresswoman in D.C., and later moves to Geneva.

Her life seems improbable, but the way she writes it makes it sound just like everyone else’s upbringing, just with different type of parental interactions, series of crappy jobs, and dreaded apartment hunting.

#47: On the Road by Jack Kerouac

Ooof, how to review this?  I need to talk about the book before I can talk about what happens in the book.  Get comfortable because this is going to be long.

The previous knowledge I had of this book wasn’t actually about the book – it was about people’s reactions to the book.  When you pick this up, you’re also picking up the reputation of the book, and for me, it made for incredibly difficult reading.

I’ve heard many people refer to this book as their bible and that they’ve read it until it fell apart, marking up pages with their reactions or because a certain word or sentence or paragraph struck them with beauty or longing.  This concerned me because I was worried I wouldn’t get it.  I want to be in with the Kerouac lovers and their secret ways, but what if I hated it?  What if this was a club that I wanted to join, but the truth of the book went over my head?

I’ve also heard many people say they loved it when they were younger but when they went back and read it years later they didn’t like it.  This makes me suspicious because people say the same thing about Catcher in the Rye.  I love that book, but many people say you only like Holden when you’re young and when you go back and read it later you realize the book isn’t that great.  It also feels snobby.  ”Oh yes… that book.  I read it when I didn’t know a thing about life and thought it was great, but now that I’m older and mature and have had real life experiences, I realize how silly and naive it is.”

And this brings me to my next obstacle before I even opened the book: hating something because it’s popular.  I get it.  I understand that there are times when something is so THE BEST THING EVER!!! that you don’t want to have anything to do with it.  I felt this way about the movie Titanic.  Everyone was talking about how it changed their lives and I was all “Yeah, no.”  (I did catch it on HBO or something years later, and yes, it is a good movie.)  My sister feels this way about Facebook.  She is determined to be the last person on Earth who doesn’t have an account.  People feel this way about a lot of authors because it’s cool to not like the mainstream.  Looking at reviews and general conversation about On The Road, there’s a lot of “Ugh.  I have no interest in reading that book.  What’s the point?”  This made me want to like it, because fuck that logic, and it also made me ready to hate it, because fuck Kerouac.  Win win!

With these thoughts, I settled in and began to read.

And stopped.  And started again.  And stopped.  And flipped back a few pages.  And read the wikipedia entry.  And started again.  And was frustrated with it.

I have a confession: I didn’t realize this was a novel until a good way in when people kept referring to the main character as Sal.  Sal?  How is that a nickname?  When I got to the wiki page I was all “Oh.  I feel dumb.”  Of course he changed it into a novel because then he could tell the truth while not having to get the facts perfect.  I approve of this.

I immediately lost track of which character was which.  Because they were based on real people I kept trying to remember who was Allen Ginsberg and forgetting who the characters were.  I felt like I should make a chart of everyone and how they knew each other.

Of course I was able to remember Dean.  Oh, Dean.  We’ll get to you later.

The language threw me for quite awhile.  I tend to like books that have their own rhythm and slang and language and dialect.  It takes me a few pages to get into it, but then I’m good to go.  But I kept getting hung up and getting frustrated and thinking about how people carry around tattered copies with notes frantically scribbled in the margins.  Were the words that I was failing to comprehend someone else’s mantra?

And then I got angry with the entire thing.  I decided that Sal was an elitist white boy who was slumming for fun.  Sure, there were times when he ran out of food and had to suck on cough drops to keep going, but he was able to wire his aunt to get money if he needed it.  I never got the sense that he was going to get abandoned somewhere.  He always had the option to go home.  This made me even angrier when he would wax poetic about how wonderful it must have been to be a slave and only have one purpose in life.  How wonderful it must have been to feel the sun on your back while you worked.  How wonderful it must have been to see a job completed when you returned home from a day of work.  Later he meets up and falls in love with a beautiful Mexican girl.  He gets a job picking cotton and loves the work because he can rest on the warm soil and enjoy the feeling of his body as he moves through the field.  He quickly realizes he’s not cut out for the work and when his Mexican love and her boy come to help, he is heartbroken that their bodies have been designed for this kind of work and his has not.  Happily, he can pick up and leave anytime he wants because he can.  All those other folks who have to do this so they can get paid and just barely get by? How lovely it must be to only have that one purpose in life.

Are you fucking kidding me?

At this point I had a long back and forth email conversation with a friend who proudly subscribes to On The Road as a bible.  She has a tattered copy.  She loved it in high school, in college, and now.  She was really depressed that I wasn’t getting it and I felt like I was letting her down.  She pointed out that Sal is sad that his body is useless when it comes to real work and that the only thing he can do is sit and write.  He is jealous of those who can create with their bodies, either through physical work or through jazz.  The black jazz players have experienced things that Sal never can and he is in awe of their music and what it does to him.

I get it, but I was still really aggravated at the romanticized notion of what life must be like if you’re not while.  For a lot of people, it really sucked.

However, this email exchange did get me motivated to get back to the book and just read it without judgement and to put aside its reputation.  This kicked me into a different mindset and I really enjoyed Sal’s last trip.

And now we get to Dean.

Dean exhausted me, and not in a good way.  If you’ve never experienced someone in full on mania, you are very lucky.  Kerouac does an amazing job capturing the nonstop motion of Dean and while I did not enjoy these parts, I do realize that it’s incredibly good writing.  My problem was that Dean frustrated me because he is so out of control and everyone loves it, or at least accepts it.  They let him lead them, they get swept up in his mania, they make excuses for him, and they love him.  It drove me crazy.  At times I actually got physically uncomfortable because I wanted someone to walk away from him and be done or at least try to take control over the relationship or realize how he was not a good friend.  (More on that last part in a bit.)  I hated that he was the energy behind everyone because he’s so destructive.

I don’t know if this was an intentional metaphor or if it came from reality, but Dean’s relationships are just like his cars.  He gets a new one, mostly by stealing it, fills it with friends and plans, and then runs it until it is unfixable.  Several times Sal calculates how long it takes Dean to drive a long distance and it is ridiculous.  He doesn’t need sleep when he’s manic and he pushes the car as hard as he can.  As soon as it won’t run, he grabs another and away he goes.  His friends are the same way.  If someone is useful to him, he latches on.  His energy either willingly sweeps them along or overpowers their hesitance and off they go.  When something happens where a friend slows him down or somehow judges him or angers him, the friend is cast aside.  And when it comes to his women, they are sometimes as wrecked as the cars.

Again, while these passages made me twitchy, I was really impressed by the writing.  I felt out of control.  But I also felt incredibly irritated that no one else seemed to see this as a problem.  Well, not Sal or other main characters.  There were a few stops where Dean was told he couldn’t stay long and it would be a good idea if he didn’t come back.

I’m skipping Dean and his women entirely.  I know people are not going to like this because they see his relationships as a driving and important force in the book, but I can’t do it.  The way women are portrayed in this book would double this review and it’s already exhausting.

We get to Sal’s final trip and I really liked it.  Part of it was because of the emails with my friend, but a bigger part was that Sal was going solo.  His latest book had been published, he had some money in the bank and he realized he could just pick up and go.  This, of course, it was draws many people to this book – the longing to just pick up and go.

And Sal does go.  He decides he wants to visit friends and see parts of the country that he misses.

And then Dean decides he needs to be part of this and Kerouac writes my favorite passage of the entire book:

Suddenly I had a vision of Dean, a burning shuddering frightful Angel, palpitating toward me across the road, approaching like a cloud, with enormous speed, pursuing me like the Shrouded Traveler on the plain, bearing down on me.  I saw his huge face over the plains with the mad, bony purpose and the gleaming eyes; I saw his wings; I saw his old jalopy chariot with thousands of sparking flames shooting out from it; I saw the path it burned over the road; it even made its own road and went over the corn, through cities, destroying bridges, drying rivers.  It came like wrath to the west.  I knew Dean had gone mad again.

My stomach sank at this.  I wanted Sal to be his own man.  I also paused because, holy shit, that is fantastic writing.

And this brings me to my final frustration and the end of this review: Sal’s realization of Dean.  (Spoiler alert!)  Dean, Sal and Stan head to Mexico and full on debauchery.  They want to squeeze every drop out of life in this moment.  They breathe in freedom.  I understand again why people revere this book.

And then Sal gets sick.

He becomes a useless car and Dean must abandon him.

In this moment, Sal realizes who Dean is and that while people want this madness, at some point it will burn.  You can’t expect him to be faithful to his friends.  Everyone in his life shrugs his madness off and excuses him as just being Dean.  The few people who do cut him loose still make excuses for  him, knowing he’ll never change and why would you want him to?

I was really looking forward to this moment.  The entire book was a love letter to Dean, and now that Sal realizes that he too can be set aside, there was going to be a flowing chapter about realization and despair and longing and abandonment.

One sentence.

Forty-five words.

And in the middle of this, he forgives him.  He at least knows Dean’s life is a mess and understands that Dean had to leave him behind in order to get back to it.  But still…  This entire madness leads up to forty-five words.

But this isn’t my story.  This isn’t me wanting to express my anger and irritation at Dean.  This is Sal’s story and his Dean and his understanding of who the man is.

I understand why this book is worshiped.  I understand why people clutch it to their hearts and want to be on the road.  I understand how and why people love it so much.

I didn’t, but I’m OK with that.  It wasn’t my language and it wasn’t my journey.

For those of you who have had to replace your copy because the spine finally gave up and pages fell out, I get it.

#44: Take the Cannoli by Sarah Vowell

I love Sarah Vowell because she loves America.  Not in the scary “We need to take our country back!” kind of way where things can go real bad real fast if you don’t believe in the right god or have the right skin color, but in the kind of way where she ponders our history and realizes, fuck yeah!  America!  See the difference?

I really enjoy all of her books because she is so smart and so funny.  I always feel like we’re BFFs and she’s excitedly telling me about the latest thing she’s discovered in the library or sharing a tale of bemused exasperation at her family.  Yes, I know I don’t know her in real life and I’m not going to stalk her and pet her hair until she hugs me or anything, but she is awesome and if I ever saw her in real life I would probably panic and either look away or be all “I know about assassinations because of YOU!!!  …  Because of your book!  YOUR BOOK ABOUT ASSASSINATIONS!” and then other people would be all “WTF?” and if we weren’t in NYC when this happened then the cops would be called but if we were in NYC then, honestly, people would probably just shrug and go about their business.  They might not even shrug.

Anyway…

Take the Cannoli is a collection of previously published essays.  From watching her dad shoot off his homemade cannon while she belts out The Star Spangled Banner to a tale of the depression that is Disney World (did you know Chester A. Arthur was a person?  AND THAT THIS PERSON WAS PRESIDENT?  OF THE UNITED STATES???), this book is everything a Sarah Vowell fan could hope for.

Seriously, she works in the phrase “without the men jerking each other off” when talking about Tom Sawyer Island at Disney World.  And it makes sense.

I was very disappointed when I could get my hands on the audio version of this book.  I’m not even sure there is an audio version, which is sad because if you’re going to read a Sarah Vowell book, have her read it to you.  She’s super sarcastic and a simple sentence becomes a tear inducing belly laugh when she puts in the right pauses and tones.  I’ve had her audio books before and laughed so hard that I thought I should pull over before I drove into something from not being able to see through the tears.

Some people reading this might be wondering what in the hell is wrong with me.  (People who know me in real life don’t need this review to ask themselves that.)  I realize that she is a very specific taste and I’m sure there are many who think she’s boring, unfunny, and that her voice is unpleasant.

Those people are dead to me.  SHE IS A NATIONAL TREASURE.

These stories aren’t connected in any way, other than some reoccurring themes.  There isn’t a vacation to Hawaii or to presidential assassination sites.  She’s not telling the tale of America by discussing the Puritans.  These essays were published at different times in different publications, all gathered together for my enjoyment.  In some ways, this was a little disappointing because I really enjoyed her other books that followed a clear path to tell a tale, either historical or personal… or both.  On the other hand, there was something wonderful about reading her account of hiring people to make her goth, then flipping a few pages to see her learning how to drive, then reading another story about Frank Sinatra.

She loves America because she is so much of it.  She loves The Godfather, as referenced by title of the book.  (Which I didn’t recognize because I haven’t seen The Godfather.  Shut up.  SHUT UP!  I KNOW!!!)  She loves aspects of Disney World.  She loves politics.  She’s part Cherokee, so she’s part Original America.  Did I mention that she’s smart and sarcastic?

For me, the most powerful piece is when she and her sister drove the Trail of Tears.  She wants to know more about where this part of her came from.  She already knew the details from books, but she wanted to feel the ground beneath her feet and measure off the steps as they drove.  I liked this part a lot because she already had the book experience, but now she was getting the reality experience.  Reading about something is one thing, but then standing somewhere where bones are probably buried is something entirely different.  She was angry and sad and argumentative and horrified that people don’t know what happened and aren’t as angry as she is.  The Trail ends where she is from and as she processes the experience she is surrounded by family, friends, and home.  It’s confusing because she straddles different parts of America, but it also makes sense because it’s who she is.

If you love people who love intelligence, start reading Sarah Vowell’s books.  And please get the audio versions if you can.

#37: How To Be Black by Baratunde R. Thurston

A few years ago my friend Tamatha told me about Pajiba.  Later she told me about CBR and got me started last year.  This year she verbally attacked me with excitement over How To Be Black.  I don’t even think she had actually read it yet, but she was going to, and by god, I was too.  She posted her review back in May and would occasionally ask me if I had gotten a copy.  I told her it was on my To Be Read list (along with, no lie, around 600 other books) and I’d get to it.

I finally got to it.  And she was right to demand that I read it.  It’s smart, funny and honest, and since I didn’t read it during Black History Month, I am totally ahead of the game.

I liked the mix of this book.  (Was that racist?  Shit.)  It’s part memoir, part stand-up routine, part social commentary, part super depressing reality, part politics and part a whole lot of other stuff.

Thurston explains that this book is written for black people, but totally understands that white people are going to pick it up, and good for us!  He knows it’s going to be displayed prominently during February and that whites will prove that there’s no racism when they buy it.  Good job!  Problem solved.

His goal is explaining to black people all the things they need to do to help white people like me.  Each individual black person is responsible for explaining the entire population’s hopes, dreams, and beliefs while at the same time serving in sort of an undercover role for the black population.  While they make sure their white friends don’t walk around asking if they can touch a black person’s hair, they are also gathering data on the whites to share when we’re not around.  I appreciate the amount of work being a Black Friend is. They have to be cool, but not too cool.  They have to be black enough without going overboard.  They’re going to have to make mandatory office social gatherings cool… simply by showing up!  And once they reveal themselves as a Black Friend, they are going to have to answer millions of “Is it racist when…?” questions.

I particularly liked the importance he puts on Black Friend as National Black Friend serving as the Official Black Spokesperson for all black people.  I’ve seen this in action before, and I know it’s not something to be taken lightly.  When I, as a white person, need to know how the black community feels about the latest pop culture story that may or may not be racist, I need an official black spokesperson, and I need one fast.  I cannot tell you how much time is saved when one person can explain an entire population’s reaction, thoughts and feelings about an issue.  I don’t understand why more people don’t do this.  I guess it’s a black thing.  (Was that racist?  Shit.)

Side note: If you are black and don’t want to be the Black Friend or Official Spokesperson, there’s a chapter called How to Be The Angry Negro.  (I can say “negro” because it’s a direct quote, right?  Is that racist?  Shit.)

Another part of the book I liked is his Black Panel.  While he teaches black people how to be the official spokesperson for all black people, for some reason he has concerns that he can’t fully represent so many people.  This was confusing for me as a white person.  His seven person Black Panel comes in throughout the book to answer such questions as “Can you swim?” and “Have You Ever Wanted to Not Be Black?”.  In the interest of equality and to avoid a potential reverse discrimination lawsuit, he even includes a white guy.  A  Canadian white guy.  W. Kamau Bell is one of his panelists, which was a great bonus for me because I’m a huge fan of Totally Biased.  If  you haven’t seen that show yet, you should get on it.  It’s like having your own Black Friend/Official Spokesperson right in your living room.  (Was that racist to imply that you wouldn’t want him in your living room if he was there in reality and not on tv?  Shit.)

I especially responded to the chapter on Post-Racial America.  Some white people think this is a thing.  And on behalf of all white people: I am so, so sorry.  I try to get other white people to shut up, but it’s so hard.  So very hard.

On a serious note, I’m also reading a book about the state of feminism (Enlightened Sexism: The Seductive Message That Feminism’s Work Is Done by Susan J. Douglas) and the parallels between the idea of Post-Racial America and Enlightened Sexism are so depressing, and yet hopeful because maybe we’ll all get our shit together and get stuff sorted out by helping each other.  That could be a thing, right?  Reading these books back to back has been great, but I know there are things I’m confusing between the two.  I think each book makes a point about the previous generation.  The media and younger members of the population don’t want to hear from the angry elders.  While we can appreciate the work the civil rights leaders and the bra burning protesters did, we kinda don’t want to be That Guy.  I think it’s worse for the feminists because they get dismissed as angry man haters who wear horrible shoes.  Civil rights leaders seem more honored and less ignored by members of the black community.  (I say this as a white person.  Was that racist?  Shit!)

The memoir parts about his mother are wonderful.  He had an interesting childhood and she created an environment where anything could happen.  I love how he had access to all sorts of different worlds and created for himself what it meant to be black.   

This was a great read.  I really appreciate his acknowledgement of how much a white person (me) can sprain an ankle trying to dance around any ideas because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.  Rather than engage in what could be an enlightening conversation, I’ll just sit quietly.  Or I’ll make a statement that I assume goes for everyone.  I definitely don’t want to assume I’m talking with an Official Black Spokesperson so I feel weird about asking questions.  Thurston starts of explaining that he gets this and he’s going let you in on some secrets and ideas.  This is especially helpful if you don’t have access to your own Black Friend.

 

PS: It’s baa-ruh-TOON-day.  You’re welcome.

#27: God, If You’re Not Up There, I’m F*cked: Tales Of Stand-Up, Saturday Night Live, And Other Mind-Altering Mayhem by Darrell Hammond

If this book is on your To Be Read list, plan on reading something happy and light before and after.  This was a rough one and is going to cling to my brain for a good long time.

I’ve always watched SNL and don’t understand why people love to hate on it so much.  It’s been on forever, it’s never going to be as good as you think it was, you’re going to hate at least one cast member and there are always going to be sketches that suck.  Shut up and watch, or just shut up.

When I think of Darrell Hammond I realized I could only picture him doing Bill Clinton and Sean Connery.  I sort of knew he had been on the show for a while, but I couldn’t figure out what else he did.  Picking up this book I realized that this makes sense because he was the impression guy.  When they needed someone to be someone else, Hammond was the one to do it.  He can do the voices, he studied the movements, and he was up for all of it.  It’s kinda cool that I couldn’t remember which people he had played because he disappears into them.  I’ve said “Lockbox.” in an Al Gore impression, but didn’t realize I was doing an impression of Hammond doing an impression of Al Gore.  It’s a compliment that I didn’t realize what work was his because he did impersonations, right?  Right??

I really liked the structure of this book, although other people struggled with it.  It’s somewhat chronological so the themes jump around.  He talks about his childhood, then doing stand up, then his addictions getting worse, then SNL, then flashbacks which takes him back in time to his childhood, then back to SNL.  I liked how on one page he’d be remembering seriously fucked up stuff that happened to him when he was five, and then the next page was a list of famous people he had played on SNL and what it was like to meet them.  And then the next page would be about some crazy woman who propositioned him, then back to the ER with another self-inflicted cut.

Wait, what?  Self-inflicted cutting?  Yep.  Turns out Hammond is all sorts of broken.  For a long time he’d been cutting himself, drinking to deal with feelings, and trying out different drugs.  He’d live in different levels of addiction while dealing with fame and working like hell on his stand up and impersonations.  He knew for a long, long time that something was wrong with him, but doctors couldn’t figure it out and psychiatric drugs weren’t helping.  Still, he swallowed the pills faithfully and pushed on through the pain.  Although he did stop from time to time after waking up screaming, then cutting himself wide open and needing to be brought to the ER.  Again.

He is finally given the correct diagnosis of PTSD.  With the help of therapy, starts to untangle the fear and blackness inside of him, which forces him to remember and confront what happened to him as a kid.  It’s terrifying and sad and I want him to be OK.

Again, this is a memoir of all things, so while he’s talking about this journey, he’s also talking about what’s going on with SNL, what it’s like performing for the President as the President, and how he pissed off Hillary Clinton.  He’s talking about being a dad, feeling like he’s not quite part of the cast at SNL (he almost never stayed for the closing credits), wanting to stay close to his dad, and baseball.  He loves baseball.  This ebb and flow of topics turned off a lot of readers, but it worked for me.  There is a loose timeline that held it together and I like the way he told it.  Maybe some people wanted to only know about SNL or only know about PTSD or only know about stand up, but he’s not only any of these things.

If you enjoy reading about people overcoming shitty childhoods, figuring out later in life what happened, and then actually doing something to get better, pick this one up.  You get a bonus dose of guilt when he’s told that “Lockbox.” is what cost Al Gore the Presidency.

#16: Let’s Pretend This Never Happened: A Mostly True Memoir by Jenny Lawson

If you know who The Bloggess is you probably already have this book or are on the library wait list for it.  If you don’t know who she is, I hope I do her justice in this review.

I’m not sure how I discovered Jenny Lawson.  I’m guessing someone posted something on Facebook and I wandered over to her site.  And then I stayed there for hours, laughing until I cried and then going into that thing where you’re laughing so hard that you start to get scared that you’re hurting yourself internally and that makes it even funnier and now you’re just sobbing and you can’t stop.  The only thing that makes this kind of a laugh better is when it happens at work and you have to keep it together because you can’t lose it that hard when you’re at your desk and people don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re pretty sure they aren’t hoping you’re reading a blog when you should be doing work related things.  And now you’re red and tears are pouring down your face and you’re praying that the phone doesn’t ring because there is no way you can get enough air into your lungs to choke out your company approved greeting.  If you’re really, really lucky, an office friend will realize you’re breaking down and send you an email asking you WTF is going on over there and you’ll email back “GO TO http://thebloggess.com/ RIGHT NOW!!!” and then you’ll hear her start to stifle shrieking laughter and you’ll mentally highfive each other over your cubicle walls.

[Side note: I probably came close to losing my job the day I read How a Fish Almost Destroyed My Childhood by Allie Brosh on Hyperbole and a Half.  I miss her and I hope she is healthy and happy.]

But anyway, I discovered The Bloggess and was so smitten that I wrote her a fan message over on FB and friended her there.  I don’t know how popular she was before, but suddenly it seemed like everyone was talking about her.  A whole bunch of lucky ones had known about her for a long time.  She’s been writing for years, although I’m currently not smart enough to figure out when her theblogges.com blog started. 

I read her other work from time to time, but I follow her main Bloggess site the most.  I love it because it’s a wonderful mix of childhood memories, stories of what’s going on in her day-to-day life, crazy imaginations of what’s going on in her day-to-day life, thought dumps, and just regular writing.  It’s intimate and welcoming and often shriek out loud funny.  But not always.  Sometimes it’s painful and dark and honest, and that makes me love her so much more.  She’s open about her chronic pain and depression and selfharm and has become a lifeline for many people.  Literally a lifeline for some who were ready to die but realized through her and her readers that they weren’t alone.  And she stresses that it’s not about her and that it is about her readers.  She writes, but we’ve created the community.  And it’s a beautiful community and welcoming and broken and healing.  I don’t know if people understand how comforting it is when people speak of the dark times, especially when these people seem to be surrounded by light.  It is possible to have a day filled with amazing energy and hope and smiles, and then to wake up the next morning and be too depressed to move.  You think there’s something wrong with you that’s never happened to anyone else and it’s confusing and scary, but if you’re lucky you find a community like The Bloggess’ readers and you hear all these other stories and you start to think that maybe you can believe that depression is a lying bastard.

And then you read a post about how she found another giant mushroom that looked like a boob and you hopefully begin to know that depression is a lying bastard.

So… her book.  I got the audio version and if you have the choice, get the audio version.  She sings the chapter titles.  There’s a bonus chapter.  There are delightful rambling outtakes at the end.  And honestly, when you learn the story of how a child ran into a eviscerated deer and got stuck inside and then threw up in there and then was covered in deer blood and who knows what else and also her own vomit and then her dad just hosed her and the deer off and then later they ate the deer, don’t you want to hear that story told out loud by the person it happened to? 

Like her blog, there are hilarious moments and there are heartbreaking moments.  The chapters with her husband Victor are outstanding.  And yes, Beyoncé the Giant Metal Chicken is in here.  And when Jenny tells the story, it’s even funnier.

Read her blog.  Get this book.  Laugh and cry and be a better person.

#11: Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) by Mindy Kaling

Mindy Kaling is a badass.  She’s never fit neatly into any category, so she made her own.  Her childhood stories are laugh out loud hilarious and she has that great storytelling gift where she captures the moment the way she saw it as a child with the understanding she now has an adult.

I love how she never seemed to realize that she wouldn’t be able to do what she wanted.  It seems like it never occurred to her to be nervous or unsure.  If she didn’t get a part or didn’t find anything she liked, she’d write something for herself.  This becomes painful when she and her writing partner sell a sitcom, have to audition for their own parts, and then don’t get them.  But she shrugs it off and moves on to the next awesome thing.

I really liked the parts where she talks about The Office, especially how everyone assumes she’s just like Kelly Kapoor.  No one asks her co-workers what she’s really like because obviously she writes down what she thinks and says in real life and then gets in front of the camera and starts talking.  She presents a neat list of how she differs from Kelly, nothing that she would never fake a pregnancy to save a relationship.

She does write about how frustrating it can be when you don’t fit into the Hollywood box.  People Magazine names her one of their Most Beautiful People, then doesn’t bring any clothes that will fit her when she shows up for her photo shoot.  After a quick and angry cry in the bathroom, she walks back in, points to a dress and calmly explains that they will have to take it apart to make it fit her.  And they do.  Total badass.  And check out the dress.  They were going to stick her into some navy blue, shapeless thing.  Kelly Kapoor never would have forgiven her.

She is crazy talented and is perfect to write, direct and act on The Office.  I’m glad she continues to assume anyone who doesn’t think she’s amazing must not understand what amazing means.  Her book is great, her work is great and she is awesome.

#10: My Booky Wook 2: This Time It’s Personal by Russell Brand

This ended up being a super depressing read.  I really enjoyed My Booky Wook the first and was looking forward to more, but he wrote this pre-divorce and it was so so sad at the end.

Brand is really smart and I enjoy his writing.  He doesn’t have someone else write for him, which I always appreciate in a celebrity memoir.  His voice is clear, his asides are hilarious and you can feel his personality on every page.  As in his first book, he isn’t trying to clean up his past and make himself look better.  He knows he was horrible at times and doesn’t try to brush it off or blame it on other things.  Although there are a few times where I feel he has the attitude of “This is who I am and I’m honest about it, so you can’t get mad at me.” and that doesn’t really fly.

He’s writing about clean and sober times now, so there’s a much happier and lighter tone.  However, his sex addiction is still turned up to eleven and it’s sad to see.  Even though women delight him on all levels, you get the sense early on that he realizes there’s something more than sex and that he’s both bewildered by it and drawn to it.

He continues his story about fame and how weird it is.  He is huge in England and began to get excited about the idea of coming to the States to make movies.  He steps off the plane and no one knew who he was.  Although he tried not to let fame change him, it threw him to suddenly be able to walk around and not be mobbed.  Suddenly he had to audition for a part just like all the other unrecognized actors instead of being welcomed in and asked to relax with tea and biscuits. 

Some of the most interesting and powerful moments Brand writes about revolve around when he’s alone.  He doesn’t seem to know who he’s supposed to be when it’s just him.  He’s always entertaining everyone else and almost everything he does is with the intent so have sex and/or make people laugh, so when he’s alone it’s sad.  When filming Forgetting Sarah Marshall, he hides in his trailer, petrified to go out and talk to anyone.  He’s in Hawaii, miserable and depressed because he doesn’t know how to engage with anyone.  He attempts to bed Mila Kunis and Kristen Bell but they both had boyfriends, so he retreats back to his trailer and rather quickly goes mad.  I know I keep saying this, but it’s just so sad.

Several times when he travels he brings a girlfriend along to keep him company.  Sometimes he even convinces himself that this girl will help him “be good” and not sleep around the set.  He often then sends her home when he realizes there are many other women in the area that he can sleep with.  He’s addicted to sex and his constant stream of women becomes more and more depressing to see.  He has women waiting for him in bed, in the bath, in the kitchen, on the front step, the car, the hotel, the office…  I get the feeling some people are impressed and jealous of the constant orgasms, but knowing his marriage didn’t last and seeing him want to make a genuine connection with a woman really bummed me out.

The final few pages are heartbreaking.  He’s met Katy Perry, she’s invaded his brain and he writes about how happy he is and amazed that she’s in his life.  Only she’s not any more and I wanted to know what went wrong.

It’s still a great book and I enjoy his writing and comedy, but man…  I wish I had read this before the divorce.

#8: Seriously…I’m Kidding by Ellen DeGeneres

This is another book that I had to get in audio.  Why wouldn’t I have Ellen read me her own book?

Like any memoir from someone famous, if you don’t like her, you won’t like her book.  But if you’re a fan of her show and her comedy you won’t be disappointed.

There are chapters where she wanders about in her traditional stream of conscious observations.  I love when she spins off into tangents and random thoughts that are barely connected to the original point and then winds up far away from where she started, only to circle back and start again.

From watching her standup, reading interviews and watching her show, it is clear that Ellen is truly a kind person.  This book isn’t a gossipy tell all.  That’s not who she is.  She talks about being on American Idol and I was curious to hear what she’d say.  The media was not shy about how much they didn’t like her as a judge.  She explains how it wasn’t the right fit for her and that the entire process was a learning experience that she is grateful for.  I’m astounded that she has so much grace about a moment where people were so hostile.  For her, it came down to not wanting to judge people.  She quickly realizes that it wasn’t a great idea to become a judge when you don’t like to judge people and jokes about not being able to realize that ahead of time.  She wants people to love music and when a performance wasn’t great (or was flat out terrible), she couldn’t bring herself to say it.  What did come out of her American Idol experience was a record label.  She loves music and artists and her audience so much that she decided to create her own record label to bring new artists to new audiences.  She could have pretended the entire thing didn’t happen, but instead she pulled out what she loved about the show and made it her own.

The book is a good mix of her observations about the world that would easily make for a good stand up special as well as information about her life, her show, and her marriage.  It isn’t a tell-all where she gets in deep to her daily activities, but she does share information about what it’s like to be her.

And it’s awesome to hear.