Let’s Pretend This Never Happened
By Jenny Lawson
At the time of writing, Badly Stuffed Animals (the Facebook
group for fans of grinning foxes, misshapen owls and strangely flirtatious
cats) has accumulated roughly 54,341 ‘likes’.
That’s over 20,000 more than the average attendance to a Premier League
football match.
But, of their legions of fans – how many would get entangled
in vicious Ebay bidding wars in order to purchase an exquisitely stuffed
miniature pony, with the aim of naming him ‘Pony Danza’, “Pony Soprano” or
possibly even “Al Capony”? How many already own a small diorama of a jazz band
made up of ethically taxidermied mice in bow ties?
Enter Jenny Lawson, A.K.A The Bloggess.
Largely unknown in the U.K outside of certain Internet
communities, Lawson’s ‘mostly true memoir’
Let’s Pretend This Never Happened
came out in paperback in spring of this year. Although an internet celebrity in
her own right, having never followed the Bloggess’s activities online is
actually an advantage when reading her book. Firstly, comprised as it is of
mainly autobiographical blog posts, the book format allows Lawson to tell her
life story chronologically. Secondly,
her humour hits you full force. Right to the face. The recommendations on the
cover are no mere rent-a-quotes: Lawson is seriously funny.
It’s all somewhat unexpected. One of the first things that
you learn about the author is that she suffers from Rheumatoid Arthritis, OCD,
Depression and Social Anxiety Disorder. It’s hard to think of a more socially
and physically disabling cluster of diseases. But, somehow, they all become
grist to Lawson’s mill. Ever winced after a party remembering some minor gaffe
or social faux-pas? Read about Lawson hiding in the toilets after telling a group
of strangers about a serial killer attacker that turned out to be a cat. You’ll
feel better.
But it’s not all gallows humour. The author’s penchant for
amusingly (and ethically) taxidermied creations, coupled with stories of her
unusual childhood as the daughter of a man not unlikely to toss wild bobcats at
potential suitors makes for an engrossing, lively, occasionally dark, but, it
bears repetition, intensely funny read.
It seems everyone’s writing a memoir this year; and in the
run up to Christmas, thousands will become duplicate Christmas presents. Take a
chance on something a little more bizarre, if only to find out why, whilst the
name Beyoncé isn’t exactly as synonymous with giant metal chickens as it is
with global pop-stardom, it should be.
www.thebloggess.com
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