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Biography & Autobiography. Essays. Nonfiction. Humor (Nonfiction.) HTML:The #1 New York Times bestselling (mostly true) memoir from the hilarious author of Furiously Happy. �??Gaspingly funny and wonderfully inappropriate.�?��??O, The Oprah Magazine When Jenny Lawson was little, all she ever wanted was to fit in. That dream was cut short by her fantastically unbalanced father and a morbidly eccentric childhood. It did, however, open up an opportunity for Lawson to find the humor in the strange shame-spiral that is her life, and we are all the better for it. In the irreverent Let�??s Pretend This Never Happened, Lawson�??s long-suffering husband and sweet daughter help her uncover the surprising discovery that the most terribly human moments�??the ones we want to pretend never happened�??are the very same moments that make us the people we are today. For every intellectual misfit who thought they were the only ones to think the things that Lawson dares to say out loud, this is a poignant and hysterical look at the dark, disturbing, yet wonderful moments of our lives. Read… (more)
User reviews
The result is high-energy and high-drama, with some very funny micro-moments where a laugh popped out of me from nowhere. Of three dozen chapters, I most enjoyed a hilarious one about her experiences working in a corporate human-resources department, and a moving one about her miscarriages. But overall, it’s way too noisy and egocentric; it's most telling to note that I haven’t been interested even to check out her blog.
*used lazily, vs. used effectively in books like Sh*t My Dad Says or Go the F**k to Sleep (both also recommended)
aloud to him.
Jenny Lawson, better known online as The Bloggess, has been crossing lines and embarrassing her husband online for years. I first discovered her through the infamous metal rooster post and she’s been cracking me up ever since. Her memoir maintains her hilarious rambling style and it works well with the crazy (but true) stories she tells.
Lawson covers a lot of ground in her first memoir. We start with her childhood in a small town in Texas and her taxidermist father who can’t help but bring home some interesting “pets.” We follow her all the way through uncomfortable moments in high school, adventures in her HR job, a nervous weekend with other bloggers, meeting her boyfriend’s wealthy parents and some odd run-ins with Texas wildlife.
Her relationship with her long-suffering husband Victor is one of the funniest aspects of the book. The two are incredibly different, but they understand each other and that makes their relationship work.
I couldn’t stop laughing out loud at some of the mental pictures she paints, like her finance’s mother visiting her parents for the first time and driving up to see Lawson’s father boiling animal skulls in their yard.
But the book isn’t all laughs. There are some incredibly serious issues discussed as well. Lawson has struggled with anorexia, anxiety disorders, depression and more. She talks about each of those things with a bracing honesty and humor, but the edge of her literary voice is tinged with the pain of those struggles.
I think Jenny’s writing is both riotously funny and jarringly honest. Her irreverent style and adult language may not appeal to everyone, but I think fans of David Sedaris would love her.
Overall, it wasn't a bad read,
So now I'm spending this review trying to articulate why, exactly, I wish I hadn't picked the book up, yet never really considered not continuing on while I read it. But it was funny and weird and Jenny Lawson has a very engaging narrative style, so I guess there's that.
I think I wanted more of a cohesive narrative to the book, more of an arc of personal growth or something that Jenny had experienced. While we kind of get that, it's a little too scattered for me, mingled with several different stories. There's the story about growing up poor in West Texas with a very unusual family. There's the story about her health, particularly the way anxiety disorder (and the related depression) has affected her and how she copes with it. There's the story about growing up and getting married and becoming a parent, and how that looks to someone with her background. So they're all interrelated, but nothing gets the focus. And this is why I'm not happy with memoirs - I prefer to have a strong narrative link, you know? But memoirs are real people and not carefully crafted stories, at least not to the extent of novels, even slice of life novels without a "true" plot.
But other than the plot/narrative thing, what bothered me about the book is that it is so very aware of itself as being a book. Lawson interrupts the story she's telling fairly often to bring attention to the fact that she's writing a book, and that she has an editor - there are occasional (imagined?) dialogues with the unseen editor, or comments/corrections from him/her. While I often enjoy self-aware books that do this sort of thing, it didn't work for me here. I think perhaps it showed a little too much of the hand of the author. While I can appreciate the way these elements work with Lawson's often self-deprecating humor and enjoyment of the absurd, it was a little too much for me.
My other big complaint is that Lawson uses the word "vagina" many times as though it's an external organ. I know, I know, this is kind of petty and dumb, especially since the word seems to be evolving to refer to the external as well as internal, but it's a pet peeve of mine. I didn't have any problem with the references to sex acts, or sex organs, or taxidermy, or hunting, or drug use, really I thought it was all fairly tame despite the warning she gives at the beginning of the book that there may be something to offend. I don't even think I'm particularly offended by the "vagina" thing, just irritated because every time she'll use it flippantly, I would mentally envision the scene, then have to start over again when I realized she didn't literally mean that when her skirt flipped up in the wind (for example), all the neighbors would be getting the gynecologist's view.
Anyway. That said, there are some things I liked: I very much liked the discussions she has about anxiety and depression, and I identified with her in many ways. It's always good to read stories from people who also suffer these diseases and yet are still fairly successful people. I also liked the way she recounts the adventures she gets into, however awful or embarrassing or sad or funny. Lawson really does know how to spin a tale. And, finally, I loved that she included photos of some of the topics of discussion, because as funny or horrible as the stories could be, the photos were like the cherry on top.
After this, I'm probably going to stick to blogs and avoid memoirs. I just haven't found that I'm a good reader for the genre.
As the book neared the end though the schtick got kind of old. For example, Jenny comes up with some outrageous formal name for some (dead or alive) creatures. Jenny says something completely outrageous to her long suffering husband Victor who responds by groaning, shaking his head, or hiding. Jenny responds to that by cursing him out. In her head hopefully, not out loud. Jenny lost me when she started ordering taxidermy animals for her own collection.
While I enjoyed the first two thirds of the novel, the last third left me wanting to hurry up and finish it because the jokes were getting stale. Maybe her humor is best enjoyed in short doses on her blog.
The preceding story is true. I'm sure, because it happened to me. Let's Pretend This Never Happened purports to be a true story, but I really doubt most of it. The other difference between Lawson and Blocker: Jenny Lawson is apparently hysterical. I am not. Except, I don't think Lawson is funny. Not. One. Bit. Like, you may not believe me, but I didn't laugh once. Not once. I didn't even smile. As I neared the end of the book, I actually forced a smile, thinking that maybe the physical action would help me find the humor. It didn't work. There were a few times when I thought, oh, that was wee bit witty. But only a wee bit. And not even then, I was just trying really hard to find the positive.
I'm truly, honestly really glad that people love this book. Because they do love it. I'm glad people can laugh until they can no longer breathe (assuming it's temporary). I want people to be happy and apparently Let's Pretend This Never Happened makes them really happy. I don't get it. It's not that I'm completely incapable of humor. It's difficult to get a laugh out of me, but I do find some things funny, things that no one else finds funny. I'm entitled to my own brand of humor, but I do wonder if part of my distaste is that Lawson, her mania, her mood swings, and her ridiculous stories remind me of a girl I once dated. I lived the “mostly true,” but not true stories for several years and let me tell you, it's exhausting and, over time, it's no longer the least bit funny. I'm glad that Lawson found a way to turn her mania into something she can be successful with and that so many people can enjoy. I'm glad she didn't choose a more destructive path. But reading this makes me manic. And that's not a good thing for any of us.
So I hated Let's Pretend This Never Happened. There's one reason to read this book, and that's because of the humor. If you don't find it funny, there really isn't a point to it, is there? I didn't find it the least bit funny. I went to book club knowing that someone else would agree. Since it was my first time leading the group, I didn't want to sway anyone. I'd wait for someone to mention how the book really wasn't funny, then I'd pounce. Surely, someone would say it. No one did. They all thought it was hysterical—a nice change of pace. So I smiled, nodded my head, and mostly remained quiet. I asked a few questions that I hoped would elicit some underlying disdain, but no, they genuinely loved it.
So again, I'm glad everyone else in the world is wildly entertained with this “memoir.” It just wasn't for me. And if ever I'm asked to read a book like this again, I'll know I can just fake it by saying, “oh yeah, that was hilarious.”
Let's just pretend that this never happened.
If you are uncomfortable with that little share, this probably isn't for you. Anyone who has read the blog knows that Jenny Lawson isn't squeamish about blood or bodily fluids and never pulls punches when there is a poop joke to be made. At the same time, she has a great grasp of her own inner self and what makes the rest of us human, so as much of her humor comes from wry observation and reflection as slapstick. What might surprise you is that there are tender moments here too -- I was in tears toward the end of the chapter about her dear little pug, and I suspect you will be too.
Here is an occasion where you can try before you buy. Look up The Bloggess, read a bit (particularly the one about the giant metal chicken, which is in the book, but even funnier in color), and if you start laughing so hard that your thoughts turn to bladder strength, buy this book. You won't regret it.
If you love the blog, all the time, then you'll probably love this book. If, however, you're like me, and read the blog only on occasion, then this is definitely a book to skip.
Jenny Lawson, who writes a popular blog as The Blogess, has written a "mostly true" memoir called. After that sentence, you'll pretty much know if you want to read her book. It's written in the familiar, humorous tone often used by bloggers and the book sometimes feels like a particularly excellent and lengthy post. Lawson is a deeply weird individual (and I mean that in the best possible way), with a skewed sense of humor, the mouth of a syphilitic pirate, an unusual upbringing and a willingness to bare herself for our edification and entertainment. Let's Pretend This Never Happened walks that fine line between melodrama and humor, writing chapters that mix the very serious with the tremendously funny. This is a very funny book, of the kind not to be read on public transportation or in a Starbucks.
There is a GREAT deal I cannot quote from the book (alas) but here are some of my favorite parts. Lawson takes her (then) boyfriend Victor home to meet her parents – “My mom and I were on the couch, and from our vantage point, we could see my father tiptoeing into the room. He gestured with a finger to his lips not to let Victor know that he was behind him and a live bobcat was tucked under his right arm. This probably would have been my exact worst nightmare of bringing a boy home to meet my parents, if I’d ever had enough creativity to imagine my father throwing a live bobcat on the boy I was trying to impress.”
Or when she details her stint working in an HR department and the INTERESTING job applicants she encounters there. “Today an applicant who couldn’t pass the typing test blamed it on me for giving her “a trick keyboard because the keys weren’t in alphabetical order.” I tried to explain that all keyboards are laid out the same way and she called me a liar. I apologized and told her that if she wanted to bring in an alphabetized keyboard, I’d be happy to hook it up for her so she could retest and she yelled, “I’M NOT GOING TO PAY TO REPLACE YOUR SHODDY EQUIPMENT.”
Lawson says very clearly right there in the title that this is a “mostly true memoir”. Mostly true, sort of true – whatever – it’s hysterical and I loved reading it. (Though not in public or in bed – people looked at me funny and/or it made my husband crabby that I was shaking the bed.)
There is a very detailed section where she regales the reader with details on her “do it yourself colon cleanse - “…I said a little prayer thanking God for saving me from getting assaulted, and also for not making me have to explain to the ambulance drivers that I’d accidentally mistaken my cat for a rapist after purposely overdosing on laxatives in order to make my antidepressants work better.” By this section in the book, that doesn’t seem as weird as it sounds here – but it’s still AWESOMELY funny.
Surprisingly, there were a few sections that were serious and that really touched my heart. When she details her long and heartbreaking road towards motherhood, I had tears in my eyes for a completely different reason. “Then one more push, and then there was silence. And then the beautiful sound of crying. It was me crying. And then it was Hailey crying. My sweet, beautiful daughter. And it was amazing. It wasn’t until that very moment that I actually let myself believe that I really might be able to be someone’s mother.”
It’s obvious that she loves her husband, Victor, a great deal, and some of their conversations just slayed me. Because they were funny, true, but because when you’ve been with the same person for a long time? These are the kind of conversations that you end up having. As they discuss why Victor doesn’t want to be an organ donor upon his death, the conversation gets to the point of, (LAWSON) “So you’re making a decision to not save someone’s life on the off-chance that it might be inconvenient if you turn into a less efficient zombie?”
“VICTOR: It sounds stupid when you say it.”
I loved the experience of reading this book and would recommend it highly…but not to people easily offended. Because, as the author says, “…somewhere in here you’ll read one random thing that you’re sensitive about, and everyone else will think it’s hysterical, but you’ll think, “Oh, that is way over the line.” I apologize for that one thing. Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
But I am offended by LOTS of things…and this book is not one of them. Enjoy!
p.s. If you can find the audio book, Jenny reads it herself, footnotes and all. Plus, there's a bonus chapter that was cut from the book, and about 15 minutes of her out-takes, talking to the people in the booth and being her random self. It's great.
p.p.s. I'd forgotten all about Jams until she brought them up - thanks for that, Jenny.
I must hang out in the "uncool" sections of the internet, because I was not familiar with The Bloggess before reading this book. I'm bummed that I have been missing out on her writing this whole time.
Jenny Lawson makes things
(Also, have you seen the promo video with Wil Wheaton? Awesome!)
In the irreverent Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, Lawson’s long-suffering husband and sweet daughter help her uncover the surprising discovery that the most terribly human moments—the ones we want to pretend never happened—are the very same moments that make us the people we are today. For every intellectual misfit who thought they were the only ones to think the things that Lawson dares to say out loud, this is a poignant and hysterical look at the dark, disturbing, yet wonderful moments of our lives.
My Rating: My Precious
I made a conscious decision to STOP being so stingy with my #1 rating. I couldn't put this down. I laughed. I nearly cried. I kept recommending that my friends read this book before I was even done with it. I want to get a physical copy so that when I re-read the book, I can see the pictures and the captions better (and while I'd like the hardcover, word has it the upcoming trade paperback release will have an extra chapter. EXTRA CHAPTER!). And yes, I want to re-read this. Because the theme of this book, amongst all the craziness, the astounding stories and the heartbreaking ones, lies an important message that I wish I'd learned early and I'm still not sure I've taken to heart: life isn't defined by your perfect moments, but rather your imperfect ones, and how you react to those moments defines everything. Lawson writes about her unique upbringing in such a way that no matter how insane, it's relatable, and her humor had me constantly tickled. It's my kind of humor (see the wheelchair comment behind the cut). When she publishes her next book, I'll be there with bells on. Hell, I should be reading her blog religiously by this point, but I'm afraid of spoiling the next book!
I know this book isn't for everyone. Hell, I can barely coherently write about it myself (another hallmark of a 10 rating). But I do think there's something in here for everyone to enjoy, even if it's not every page. So read it however you're able, and come back and share your thoughts.
Spoilers, yay or nay?: Nay. It's a memoir, what am I going to spoil? Read on, unless you're in a super-hurry and don't want to read about how my reading this book disturbed my husband. :) The full review may be found at my blog, and you can get to full review by clicking on the link below. As always, comments and discussion are most welcome.
REVIEW: Jenny Lawson's LET'S PRETEND THIS NEVER HAPPENED
Happy Reading!
Readers of her popular blog will already be familiar with the way in which, in Jenny’s hands, the simplest of stories become extended digressions into the labyrinthine twistings of her often bizarre thinking process . Anyone looking for a straight-forward memoir should look elsewhere, but those who share Jenny’s twisted sense of humor and irreverant outlook on life will find themselves belly laughing out loud and garnering strange looks from those around them.
Prior to reading Let’s Pretend This Never Happened I wasn't a follower of Jenny's blog but the cover of this book just said something to me. A mouse dressed as Hamlet complete with a miniature skull? Who could resist that. Every now and then I reflect back on growing up and wonder just how I came to be the woman I am today and now that I have a little insight into Jenny's upbringing this book makes perfect sense.
Jenny had to endure a father who ran taxidermy business (think Chuck Testa) who always felt the need to share his love of dead animals with his small girls. But not just the dead ones. I'm totally jealous that Jenny had a pet raccoon named Rambo that she got to dress in Jams, the popular 80's clothes.
From West Texas, to Houston to the Texas Hill country Jenny struggles through one crazy adventure after another. She shares story after story that would be hard to believe without the proof in the pictures sprinkled throughout the book. Now before I hunt down my own 5 foot tall rusted metal rooster I'm going to highly recommend this book for anyone who thinks they grew up with strange parents or anyone who loves a memoir full of laughs that will have you giggling, "oh no she didn't!"
[...] my dad was always bringing home crazy-ass shit. Rabbit skulls, rocks shaped like vegetables, angry possums, glass eyes, strange drifters he picked up on the road, a live porcupine in a rubber tire. My mother (a patient and stoic lunch lady) seemed secretly convinced that she must’ve committed some terrible act in a former life to deserve this lot in life, and so she forced a smile and set another place for the drifter/junkie at the dinner table with the quiet dignity usually reserved for saints or catatonics. – from the ARC of Let’s Pretend This Never Happened -
Lawson includes hysterical entries from her journal when she worked in Human Resources, shares the story of how she met and married her husband, Victor, and shows readers the pain and devastation of several miscarriages before she was able to have her daughter, Hailey. Readers are also treated to the now infamous interactions Lawson has with her husband (I believe Victor must be a saint!) which have been blogged about on Lawson’s fabulous (and popular) blog, The Bloggess.
Lawson’s prose is often like a stream of consciousness – sometimes tangential, and frequently flitting between subjects within the same paragraph. Under the humor is a glimpse of the shy, insecure woman who worries about being a good mom, grows homesick for small time life, and grieves the loss of her dog (while fending off a flock of vultures with a machete). The title of the book – Let’s Pretend This Never Happened – refers to those awkward human moments and the times when anxiety lurches from the pit of one’s stomach, all of which Lawson fearlessly reveals to her readers. Through the laughter, she shows us her vulnerability… like when she travels to California to meet a group of female bloggers. Prior to the trip she is filled with fear about fitting in, being dressed appropriately and making conversation. Once at the retreat, and despite her propensity to blurt out non sequiturs and bizarre tales of vampire cougars, Lawson discovers friendship and learns that some girls can, indeed, be trusted.
Let’s Pretend This Never Happened is the kind of book which will appeal to readers who share Lawson’s irreverent, remarkably inappropriate and sometimes profane sense of humor. I laughed my way through the book, often forcing my husband to listen while I read aloud certain sections. Let’s Pretend This Never Happened is a gut-busting vicarious ramble for anyone who has ever wanted to blurt out whatever comes into their mind, or who has ever found themselves thinking outrageous thoughts in the middle of serious social events. Jenny Lawson lacks filters, and that is what makes her so very, very funny.
Recommended.