Keeping Up With The Penguins

Reviews For The Would-Be Booklover

Category: Memoir & Autobiography

Yes Please – Amy Poehler

I thought I had no chance of coming across a copy of Yes Please by Amy Poehler for <$10 (my self-imposed book budget for the Keeping Up With The Penguins project), after Saturday Night Live’s (and, by extension, Poehler’s) popularity boom during the last U.S. election. And yet, I managed to snatch it – for the right price – from the window of my favourite secondhand bookstore. Is there any better feeling?

Yes Please - Amy Poehler - Keeping Up With The Penguins

Yes Please is the memoir of the American actress/comedian/television writer, released in 2014. In terms of accolades, it was nominated for a Grammy – of all things – for Best Spoken Word Album. It seems fitting for a celebrity who has hedged her brand on her reputation for not playing by the rules.

I expected to love it. After all, I loved Bossypants, written by Poehler’s wife-in-comedy Tina Fey. I love books by strong, funny, honest women. I love memoirs. Right from the outset, it ticked all of the right boxes. I had read that it was received with mixed reviews upon release – critics liked some parts and hated others, apparently. But isn’t that just life? I had high hopes.

Well: sometimes, I chuckled. Sometimes, it seemed a bit self-help-y. Sometimes, Poehler made a really good point. Sometimes, she name dropped a probably-famous person, but I didn’t know of them so it went right over my head. It was a mixed bag, really.




Yes Please didn’t feel as much like reading as it did An ExperienceTM. It’s more of a scrapbook than a memoir; there’s full-colour photographs and letters from friends and extracts from television scripts. There’s no cohesive narrative, it’s a series of essays and letters and anecdotes plucked from the life of a famous person.

The thing is, I’ve never watched SNL, save for the grabs that make the evening news when Alec Baldwin does a funny Trump impression. I had to stop a few times to jump on YouTube and find a clip she described. My personal favourite was a heavily-pregnant Poehler delivering a rap on behalf of Sarah Palin. Still, those stolen moments weren’t enough to allow me to immerse myself in the book itself. The parts about SNL and about improve troupes and about Parks and Recreation were really written for readers that wanted a backstage pass to the films and television shows that they already love. Some knowledge of Amy Poehler, and her career (especially on SNL), and comedy/theater/television more broadly is definitely required in order to enjoy¬†Yes Please properly. (At least, that’s what I tell myself, rather than face the equally-likely reality that I am just a dimwit who couldn’t follow along.)

I wanted to know what Poehler thought about life, about men, about feminism, about marriage, about human nature… Really, the only piece of Poehler’s work with which I was deeply familiar prior to reading Yes Please was her bit-part in Mean Girls, and that didn’t even rate a mention!

Amy Poehler is a Cool Mom - Mean Girls - Keeping Up With The Penguins

The one part I really connected with was her “Plain Girl vs The Demon” essay. Poehler managed to articulate something very important about women getting to decide their currency in the world, emphasising that it’s okay if looks aren’t it. That’s not a message that women hear very often, and it churned around in my head for a while.

I also applauded Poehler’s lack of gratitude-gushing, and her refusal to feed the reader any crap about “luck”. She’s very frank and forthright about how her own hard work got her to where she is today. There was no magical coincidence that tossed her into the lap of an SNL director and shot her off to stardom. She expresses an appropriate amount of gratitude to the people she knew who helped her along the way, of course, but make no bones about it: Poehler’s here to tell you she made it to the top on the sweat of her own brow.

I occasionally laughed out loud, which is normally a great sign for a book, but ten minutes later I couldn’t remember the joke. Either I’m getting old, or Yes Please just didn’t resonate with me. It felt like Poehler and I were buzzing on different frequencies.

Amy Poehler is wise and wonderful and honest and smart. I didn’t love her book, but her book is not her. I don’t think she needs me to love Yes Please, and I don’t think that not loving it makes me a troll or a hater. It’s a book for people who love her already, after all; I doubt it would lead a true troll or hater to change their minds. As she says in her introduction, “writing is hard” – my hat still goes off to her.

My favourite Amazon reviews of Yes Please:

  • “I discovered I do not care about Ms. Poehler’s life.” – SJ MATTHEWS
  • “Throughout the book, Amy writes that she didn’t know what to write about and writing is hard. She was right.” – R Aesch
  • “It took me a long time to get through this. It wasn’t as funny or as interesting as I thought it would be. It’s also a very heavy book for a paperback. Tough to hold up while reading in bed.” – Jeannebug1
  • “Cool Insite into her life And show business but it’s not a jaw slapper.” – Sweet Doodle
  • “I haven’t finished it. I haven’t finished it. I haven’t finished it. I haven’t finished it. I haven’t finished it. I haven’t finished it. Will tell u when done.” – Laurie Rea

 

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Wild – Cheryl Strayed

For the first time since starting this project all those weeks ago, I’ve decided to go with a decidedly contemporary selection from The List. I’d been looking forward to reading Wild for a while, especially since listening to Cheryl Strayed’s appearance on Liz Gilbert’s podcast. I was well set, at this point, for a memoir about losing and finding oneself in trying times.

Wild - Cheryl Strayed - Keeping Up With The Penguins

Wild was published in 2012, a memoir about Strayed’s 1,100-mile hike on the Pacific Crest Trail, following the traumatic death of her young mother in the mid-90s. I knew all of that going in. What I didn’t know was how young Strayed was herself when all of this went down. I’d been picturing her as a late-30s suburban mother with a mortgage on a three-bedroomed house in the ‘burbs, abandoning it all to find herself. In reality, she was a mid-20s recent divorcee with a heroin habit and a pretty transient life, subsisting on the few dollars she could scrape together from waitressing jobs, and that’s where the story begins.

Strayed sets out on this grueling undertaking almost entirely unprepared; she had essentially no prior hiking experience, figuring – like we all do, I think – that hiking = walking, and what’s so hard about that? There are two stories that weave together across the memoir: her mother’s death (and we get all of the weren’t-we-so-poor-and-dysfunctional-but-we-loved-each-other-so-much backstory, gratis), and the at-times comical dire realities of a haphazard trek through the wilderness.

Strayed devotes a lot of air time to the heaviness of her pack and the weight that she’s carrying, which is a clumsy metaphor but it’s somehow forgivable. As I was reading, I noted that, as a novel, this story would be annoying and trite and clich√©. Strayed’s story derives all of its value from being an actual lived experience. She is brutally honest, in every sense, relaying her self-awareness in a way that I deeply admire.




I must say, though, I wasn’t sold on the “beauty” of the wilderness in Wild – I’m not a country girl at all, and those descriptive passages sounded like my own personal hell. I’d much rather hike 1,100 miles in a concrete jungle CBD any day (and, indeed, I often do, when a water pipe bursts on Pitt Street and the bus timetable is fucked).

I was fully prepared to cry reading Wild, but I didn’t. It was good – it didn’t change me as a person, but it enjoyed reading it. It made me think a lot about survival and determination. Getting by. Sometimes you’re under-prepared and things go wrong (you lose a hiking boot, you find yourself with just two pennies to your name, you run into a bear), but you cop onto yourself and you keep going anyway. For a time, it became a sort of mantra for me: “if Cheryl Strayed can hike a million miles in too-small boots that are giving her blisters, then I can walk home in the rain”. Having a dream isn’t enough, after all: you have to actually do the thing.

There was a film adaptation released in 2014, which I’d love to see – not because I think it make a great movie, necessarily, but more because I’m curious as to how a book about a mostly-solo hike, driven entirely by internal monologue, could be adapted for the big screen.

Tl;dr? Wild is Eat, Pray, Love meets Survivor. I would recommended it to mid-20s fuck-ups like me, who don’t mind clumsy metaphors.

My favourite Amazon reviews of Wild:

  • “I haven’t actually read it – the one star is for Amazon charging 9.99 for Kindle (paperless) and 8.35 for paper – basically incentivizing cutting down trees to read their books. Bad form Jeff, very bad form” – R1952
  • “… the author seems to be the typical liberal feminist – no recognition of the greatness of God, everything should be handed to her, everything is centered around her and her feelings. Especially her feeling – feelings to her are the most important aspect of her life. Bottom line – do not waste your time reading this book unless you are a flaming liberal. Than you will probably love it.” – Seventh Son
  • “I did not appreciate the use of the f- word. Especially in a prayer.” – Janice Wester

 

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