COLUMN: ‘Bossypants’ will keep you laughing from cover to cover
As I sat down to write this book review for Tina Fey’s “Bossypants,” my roommate pressed play on her Netflix-queued “30 Rock” across the kitchen counter where I was writing. Perfect ambience.
Basically, I want to be Tina Fey when I grow up. Most likely, it will pan out more like Liz Lemon, but I’ll take what I can get. Fey is a fearless, successful, progressive working mom. Lemon eats a lot of junk food and never gets married or procreates. So yeah, it’ll probably be Lemon.
The first time I read “Bossypants” I was still living in New York City. At the time, I actually had a life, so I would steal reading time while the toddler I babysat was sleeping or while riding the subway to and from my million different jobs. If you’ve ever lived in New York, you come to live inside your personal invisible bubble, which is being broken constantly, and you respect other people’s invisible bubbles by pretending you aren’t so close to them that you can tell what they had for lunch. You do this by ignoring their existence.
There might be a lady’s butt in your face and a creepy man’s elbow stabbing your side, but by pretending it isn’t happening, you are actually all alone on that subway car – and that’s how people like it.
I broke a lot of sound bubbles while reading “Bossypants” in public. Normally, I can hold in my laughter pretty well, but not when turning the pages of Fey’s hilarious memoir. There’s something about her self-deprecating humor that is just…so me. Apparently I’m so self-absorbed that I like reading the writings of someone I can relate to.
My idol first takes us through her strict Upper Darby, Pa. upbringing to her awkward college years.
“What 19 year-old Virginia boy doesn’t want a wide-hipped, sarcastic Greek girl with short hair that’s permed on top?” Good question Tina. I’ve wondered similarly, what 21+ year-old Utah boy doesn’t want a wide-hipped, sarcastic girl with liberal tendencies and a ’91 Corolla?
It ended up working out for her, so I’m keeping my hopes up.
After college, Fey moved on to Chicago to improv for the sketch comedy theater group, “The Second City,” where she met another hilarious independent female, Amy Poehler.
Fey points out that somehow being white females from the suburbs made them a minority in the industry.
“Amy made it clear that she wasn’t there to be cute. She wasn’t there to play wives and girlfriends in the boys’ scenes. She was there to do what she wanted to do and she did not care if you like it.”
Despite her clear feminist ways, she admits her own body image has been ever evolving, and she’s not against being Photoshopped.
“I feel about Photoshop the way some people feel about abortion. It is appalling and a tragic reflection on the moral decay of our society … unless I need it, in which case, everybody be cool,” she wrote.
Fey also elaborated on her “too-skinny” and “too-fat” days, stating that weight gain and loss are a natural part of life and not worth losing sleep over.
“Bossypants” is definitely the best memoir in the whole universe, and there are a lot of memoirs out there. The magic of Fey’s book is her ability to hilariously detail the ups and downs of her life without being diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder. Perhaps it’s in her self-critical writing or in her responses to silly internet trolls, including one who happened to call her an overrated troll.
“To say I’m an overrated troll, when you have never even seen me guard a bridge, is patently unfair,” she wrote in the “Dear Internet” chapter.
There is plenty of wisdom to glean from the memoir, “If you are a woman and you bought this book for practical tips on how to make it in a male-dominated workplace, here they are. No pigtails, no tube tops. Cry sparingly. (Some people say ‘Never let them see you cry.’ I say, if you’re so mad you could just cry, then cry. It terrifies everyone.) When choosing sexual partners, remember: talent is not sexually transmittable.”
I could probably re-read “Bossypants” every week and never get sick of it – and it works better than Prozac at uplifting my mood. I recommend this book to anyone who enjoys a good laugh and unique, intelligent writing.
And remember, she said, “You must not look in that mirror at your doughy legs and flat feet, for today is about dreams and illusions, and unfiltered natural daylight is the enemy of dreams.”
– Natasha Bodily is a senior majoring in public relations. Responses to her book review may be sent to natashabodily@gmail.com