![]() ![]() Irby can be remarkably candid, as when she admits to having a “running inner monologue recounting every horrible thing I’ve said or done since I can remember first publicly humiliating myself,” one that “never shuts the fuck up or goes away even for a minute.” This emotional honesty is the book’s best feature, but is less appealing than it might have been, due to the hectic tone. She also overemphasizes showbiz references-at one point, she imagines her life as a wacky Hollywood comedy, and at another point, as several seasons of a TV show. In recounting a period in her life that saw her attain success as an author, endure a frustrating flirtation with Hollywood, and move from Chicago to Kalamazoo, Mich., “where the most popular bar has a mechanical bull,” Irby primarily aims to amuse, but the humor is one-note, leaning too much on double exclamation points, triple question marks, and caps lock, and too little on original observations. ![]() This overly manic collection from blogger Irby ( We Are Never Meeting in Real Life) hints at the author’s talent, but ultimately disappoints. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |