Book Review: Bossypants [2011]

Among people of my acquaintance, Tina Fey is seen as a kind of celebrity Everywoman. Even though her life undoubtedly includes photo shoots and awards shows and running a popular television show and occasionally moonlighting on Saturday Night Live, she still manages to seem "normal," almost like one of us. She's not tall, or freakishly skinny, she has a scar on her face, and she's funny. That's why Fey's memoir Bossypants was hotly anticipated as the book that would allow us to learn more about our famous sister.

Bossypants chronicles Fey's childhood in suburban Philadelphia, her move to Chicago and time with Second City, and her years with SNL and 30 Rock through a series of loosely connected stories. While her narrative is unabashedly written from a female perspective--from her first period to her first trip to Planned Parenthood for a Pap smear to the question of whether she should have a second child--it is also presented in the wry, self-deprecating way that one would expect from her writing: "nowhere in the pamphlet did anyone say that your period was NOT a blue liquid." Fey is keenly aware of her position as a woman in a male-dominated industry, and Bossypants works best when she is using her story to dissect the double-standards and stereotypes she's encountered. This is not a good book in which to find "dirt" on other celebrities, but it is an excellent glimpse into the life of a smart, hilarious, and driven woman who is balancing a career and personal life, just like the rest of us.

For a memoir, though, Fey provides remarkably little information about her childhood and family. I was looking forward to learning about her past, and certainly that was accomplished--in terms of her career. As for her early childhood, Fey spends a brief chapter and quickly moves on. Despite the fact that the book is dedicated to Fey's mother, there are only the barest hints of her presence in the narrative. Fey mentions her brother very early on ("My brother is eight years older than I am. I was a big surprise."), but there is no sense of how their relationship functioned as children, or whether they even interacted at all. There is a chapter on her father, Don Fey, but that's the exception in this glossed-over part of her history. She talks about Christmas at her in-laws' house, but never introduces a contrasting picture of Christmas with her family. It's as if Fey is completely comfortable talking about her professional failings and, to some extent, her personal feelings about her career and motherhood, but she's unwilling to cross a certain boundary of privacy. This is completely understandable, but it means that even after an entire book, I still got the sense that I was somehow missing the real Tina Fey.

This is not to say that I didn't enjoy the book! There were several times I laughed out loud, and I definitely appreciated Fey's understated humor. Bossypants is a quick and fun read, and since Tina Fey is a celebrity, I am looking forward to her follow-up memoir that addresses all the gaps I whined about above.

Grade: B

Book Review Index
Dead Mother: No

Book Review: Official Book Club Selection [2009]

I freely confess that am an unabashed fan of the stand-up comic Kathy Griffin. I watch My Life on the D-List whenever I get the opportunity (damn you, Charter Communications! Bravo should be a core channel!) and I have seen her perform live at Foxwoods and Boston's Symphony Hall. I enjoy her profanity-laden style of storytelling, even though sometimes I am not so familiar with the pop culture events that she references. Written in a conversational style, Griffin's memoir traces her life from her early days as a binge-eating kid with dreams of showbiz stardom through her many "dues-paying" years in LA to her eventual (semi-) stardom, with pit stops to discuss her abusive brother, unfortunate taste in men, and plastic surgery. Peppered with humorous anecdotes about stars and life in Hollywood, and marked by some curious omissions (Celebrity Mole, anyone?--never mentioned), Griffin's memoir nevertheless portrays a surprisingly human woman who is realistic about the casualties of her career-driven life and who genuinely, touchingly, loves her parents.

Grade: B (B+ for the audio version)

Random Thoughts:

I started by reading a paper copy of Official Book Club Selection, but ultimately switched to the audio version (read by Griffin herself), which was much more satisfying than trying to imagine her distinctive voice. However, I've just learned that the audio copy is abridged(???), which seems very un-Kathy-like. It certainly wasn't edited for language, I can tell you that much.

One of the best parts of the book--off the cuff celebrity skewerings--will also be its ultimate downfall as the references quickly become dated. However, this is all the more reason for Griffin to write a subsequent memoir, this time including even more delicious gossip and entertaining stories about her rise to (semi-) fame.

Dead Mother: N

Book Review: American Parent [2009]

Thankfully, American Parent: My Strange and Surprising Adventures in Modern Babyland has much more substance than Home Game, although its flaws might actually tend in the other direction: I now know much more than I ever wanted to about 19th century psychological and physiological theories. Written by journalist Sam Apple, this memoir of a first-time father's exploration of the "baby industrial complex" is both hilarious and occasionally moving. Apple investigates the booming market for baby products, naming, water and hypnobirthing techniques, lamaze, labor and labor coaches, circumcision, colic, child care, and baby education, all while illuminating the historical basis from whence various theories of child-rearing arose. Although he touches on Pavlov, Ferber, attachment parenting, and name-checks Baby Einstein, Dr. Spock, and Freud (sometimes at great length and at the risk of losing the reader's attention), the real gems of the book come when Apple stops investigating and describes the experiences that he and his wife shared during and after pregnancy. For example, just after their child is born:

I remember that I wondered if I had already bonded with our baby and that I wasn't sure, and that even though I didn't know what exactly a bond was supposed to feel like, I felt terrible about not feeling one and then briefly felt better when Jennifer admitted that she also didn't know if she had bonded, and that Jennifer and I then wondered if our failure to bond instantly meant that we would turn out to be the most monstrous, unfeeling parents of all time.

Ultimately, reading American Parent makes one feel as if--despite the many theories on parenting--baby development is still a largely nebulous field, and raising children is characterized by contradictory advice, uncertainty, and fear. All of which is hopefully tempered by joy.

Grade: B+

Random Thoughts: Despite mentioning Dr. Spock several times and giving us the personal history of any number of baby experts (past and present), Apple never delves any farther into Spock's theories or popularity. It was a very curious thing.

Book Review: Home Game [2009]

In the past few months, I have been trying to read as many new books as possible in an attempt to "stock up" mentally for the anticipated time, which will probably stretch years, when reading for pleasure is a luxury rarely enjoyed. Home Game: An Accidental Guide to Fatherhood, by Moneyball author Michael Lewis, is the first book I've read that might actually be somewhat pertinent to the coming Time of Reading Restriction. The book is a series of journal entries, most adapted from articles published in Slate, which chronicle Lewis's thoughts and experiences after the birth of each of his three children. These short entries are often humorous, and Lewis blithely assumes that we will find his lack of parental acumen amusing. Though there are occasional glimpses of a caring father beneath the veneer of self-pity, what he wants to get across is the (he believes) difficulty fathers have connecting with newborns: "After every new child, I learn the same lesson, grudgingly: If you want to feel the way you're meant to feel about the new baby, you need to do the grunt work. It's only in caring for a thing that you become attached to it." Home Game is a slight but entertaining afternoon amusement.

Grade: B-

Book Review: Wishful Drinking [2008]

I guess I would call myself a Carrie Fisher fan, or at least a Star Wars fan, but I couldn't be more relieved that I got Wishful Drinking from the library rather than purchasing a copy for myself. As vacation reading goes, this memoir certainly fulfilled its purpose--though only for an hour and a half or so--it was fluffy and I've already pretty much forgotten everything I just read. The main problem is that it reads like it was directly transcribed from the one-woman stage show from which it is adapted, like a rambling monologue, with pieces that just don't work very well in text form. The various pictures inserted to illustrate various points ultimately make you realize that the book is really as insubstantial as a piece of dandelion fluff. Even the Star Wars and Paul Simon anecdotes end up being a little humdrum, and as for her new reliance on electro-shock therapy . . . the less said about that, the better.

Grade: D+