Young women’s narratives are both charming and alarming
Amy Schumer’s book is latest in string of smart releases that deal with confidence, body shaming, sex and relationships
It’s a kind of rite of passage, apparently: If you are a young, funny, famous (or famous-ish) woman who knows a subject from a predicate, you must write a book about yourself.
And I, apparently, must read it.
Spurred by the release this past week of comedian Amy Schumer’s “The Girl With the Lower Back Tattoo,” I’ve plowed through that book as well as recent books by “Girls” creator Lena Dunham (“Not That Kind of Girl: A Young Woman Tells You What She’s Learned’’), actress and comedian Mindy Kaling (“Why Not Me?”), rocker and comedian Carrie Brownstein (“Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl”), writer and activist Lindy West (“Shrill”) and comedian and comedy writer Jessi Klein (“You’ll Grow Out of It”). I could easily have found twice as many to read.
First, let’s get the obvious out of the way. Yes, you should read Schumer’s new book, especially now that she has said she is taking a break from her Comedy Central show “Inside Amy Schumer” after the fourth season. You’ll laugh, you’ll wince that her editor let her use the word “anywhoozle” more than once, you’ll cheer her successes. There!
Her book and the others exist in a gray area — not literature but not mere product-line extensions. They’re not exactly memoirs, either, since the women range between age 30 (Dunham) and 41 (Brownstein and Klein), which means they are only somewhere between onethird and halfway down life’s thorny path.
All these women burn with brilliance and fearlessness. In the cases of Schumer and Dunham, their work ethics far outstrip those of their nutty (Dunham) and slutty (Schumer) public personae. Dunham is, in truth, a thoughtful and elegant writer, and Schumer keeps up a work schedule that would make an ox faint.
The stories, however, also make being a young woman in America seem nasty, perilous and demeaning.
Here are some of the dangers: sexual assault (Dunham and Schumer), domestic abuse (West and Schumer), sketchy parents (Schumer and Brownstein), abortion (West), repeated body-shaming (all except Brownstein), discrimination (sadly, it goes without saying), terrible not-fun sex (so very much of it) and scarring bad relationships (all).
All except Brownstein spill endless ink on some pretty profound body-image issues. In fact, West’s book’s chief subject is her struggles and triumphs as a big woman in a society that overvalues thinness. Kaling’s not only not a Size 0, but her skin is brown. Schumer gets featured on a Glamour magazine cover as an example of “plus size.” (Her true dress size pongs between 6 and 10.)
Brownstein, for her part, mentions a couple of questionable haircuts and her propensity for dressing in “business casual” onstage with her band, Sleater-Kinney, but she feels completely comfortable in her skin.
How does Brownstein escape? My armchair psychologist says it may be because she identifies as bisexual and may not have internalized the male gaze, or because her mother suffered from an eating disorder and thus she may have dealt with this issue early on. What do I know?
That the body-image issues loom so large is, frankly, disturbing — and in West’s fights with internet trolls, frighten- ing. I asked my husband if men have any topic that takes up so much headspace. “Sure,” he said. “It’s: What does Sam want to do today?”
OK, so we’re all slaves to our physical selves, and we’re all operating at a deficit.
Would you like a cheat code to these books? Here are the must-read chapters in each.
Jessi Klein: “Get the Epidural.” Klein, greatly with child, takes on the natal-industrial complex and the shaming of women who don’t see the point in suffering for the birth of a tiny person who neither knows nor cares what you are going through. No matter what your childbirth choices, she has a point.
Lena Dunham: “Barry.” This story of a date rape that didn’t register at first like a date rape can chill your soul. Because it’s so, so ordinary. Carrie Brownstein: “Shelter.” Someone who isn’t me might pick a different chapter, but this one toward the end of the book, about Brownstein finally finding a home and populating it with rescue animals, feels like life to me. Because sometimes you do everything right and it goes wrong anyway.
Mindy Kaling: “How to Look Spectacular: A Starlet’s Confessions.” Here’s an answer to and takedown of the myth of celebrity glamour. Hair extensions, spray tan, relentless tailoring, something called a Tria Acne Clearing Blue Light, the right bra, the proper pose — honey, nobody has the energy.
Amy Schumer: “My Only One-Night Stand.” The joyously sex-positive Schumer gives the lie to her promiscuous alter-ego with this strangers-on-aplane story of hooking up with a perfect guy (think Prince Harry, only better) for one perfect night, her only true one-night stand.
Lindy West: “The End.” For all the brave writing about battling internet trolls and various other monsters, the simple narrative of her brave father dying and her ex-boyfriend turning into a stand-up guy will get you, guaranteed.
You’ll be happy that these women have such strong female friends (in fact, several of the writers are friends with each other) but will secretly suspect, based on consumption levels, that they are in the pocket of the fermented-grape industry.
Spoiler alert: By the end of these stories, most of Our Heroines are deep into fulfilling relationships or marriages. Yes, it’s a little corny. But I’m old and I know what actually matters, so I’m happy for them.