Lena Dunham's Book -- Not That Kind of Girl

Hey, happy Saturday lovelies. Whatcha doing this weekend? Going to the movies? Hitting the gym? Hanging out in your PJ's reading a good book? I've just read an unusual book by the creator of the HBO hit series GIRLS, Lena Dunham. Her book's called Not That Kind of Girl, a Young Woman Tells You What She's "Learned".

I was super curious to read it because Lena, (I hope she doesn't mind me calling her Lena) has created, writes on, acts in, and runs her own show. I want to be her! Except the part about acting and getting naked, I don't really want to do that. 

Actually, I'd always said that I wanted to be Diablo Cody, Oscar-winning-writer of the fab film JUNO. And she started out as a stripper. Yikes. I hope there's not some subconscious fetish happening here. Could nudity and short hair be in my future??

Or!! Or maybe if I cut my hair and take my clothes off in some kind of public forum I'll finally find the success I so deeply desire?!? Nah, think I'll keep my tresses and my trousers... for now. Anyway this isn't about me, it's about the book. If you're looking for a proper review, you might want to look elsewhere. Plenty of critics have given their two-cents. I want to talk about my experience and impressions of Not That Kind of Girl.

I had hoped that by reading the book, I might gain some insight into Lena Dunham's success, I might uncover some secret or trick that would be an "aha" moment, or that I'd find the next Nora Ephron. Okay first of all, Nora is simply one of a kind and totally irreplaceable, but if I ever get to have breakfast with Lena I am going to live vicariously through her but sucking out every last one of her favorite and best Nora Ephron stories. Let that be a warning to you Lena!

But here's the thing about expectations. In any situation, the higher your expectation, the greater your chance of disappointment. However, if you leave a little wriggle room you might also make way for surprise, delight, humor, and plain old silly fun. So while on the one hand, I don't feel like I uncovered the secret to success or even that I know the writer any more or better than I did before reading the book - (she can be surprisingly forthcoming while not sharing a damned thing!) - I felt my affections for her grow in spite of feeling confused by her. I get that I'm not her target audience and we couldn't possibly be more different. She grew up in New York, child of wealthy artists, the New York Times did a story on her when she was a teenager, so she's no stranger to the spotlight, she's well educated and lots younger. I'm a mixed background kid from the freezing cold prairies of Saskatchewan who never even had cable much less went to an art opening or fancy college. 

At the start of the book, I was like, I don't get it. If she hates herself so much, how is it that she's able to put herself out there like that? When I've had bouts of self-hatred I couldn't get out of bed. I stopped trying to understand her and decided instead to just go with it. Just read it for the pleasure of reading. This was no ordinary memoir. It isn't the story of her life thus far. The book is a collection of essays that hold memories, observations, and feelings about various subjects that most girls and women think about -- sex, diet, self-discovery, growing up. I decided it was like taking a sordid sneak peek into the diary of a teenager and I went with it. That's when I really began to rather enjoy it.

She made me laugh, especially in section II of the book - BODY.

She writes: "When I was born I was very fat for a baby - eleven pounds (which sounds thin to me now). I had three chins and a stomach that drooped to one side of my stroller. I never crawled, just rolled, an early sign that I was going to be resistant to most exercise and any sexual position that didn't allow me to relax on my back."

Much of the book felt like an extension of the show but that's okay because I have a theory. This is complete and total conjecture on my part, but I believe that she wrote the book for two simple reasons, both of which make her even more smart and clever than I already knew she was! The first reason of course is the huge advance. Who the hell could say no to 3.5 million? I could retire on that. Imagine it. I could just take all the essays (blog posts) written in my blog Mastering The Method and roll them into a book, get 3.5 mill and set sail for Tahiti where I'd never be heard from again! Ah, bliss.

And two? She had something very real to say! Something very real and incredibly important that needed to be addressed and brought into the light for all the women and underlings in Hollywood who have ever been taken advantage of, shit on, made to feel less than, used, abused, objectified and morally and mentally raped! (my words of course not hers). And she managed to say it beautifully, much bolder and brassier than I ever could have between pages 197 and 202. If you never buy the book or have no desire to read it, at least pick it up and read those pages.

She couldn't have gotten away with writing a whole book about it (not yet, but just you wait until she's 80 boy, then she's gonna let em have it!) because the critics would have eaten her alive and she'd probably never work again, but it was fair warning to the scoundrels. She's saying - baby, I've got your number. Some day I'm gonna be kicking ass and taking names but until then, I'll just laugh all the way to the bank.

She buried this little gem in cutesie camp stories and sexual misadventures so that those not looking too closely could just write her off, saying "oh it's more of the same," and they'd not notice how sharp and cool, how witty and intelligent she really is. So "they" wouldn't feel truly threatened. And she pulled it off with flying colors. You go girl!

xo
Shan