*Funny in a snorting kind of way. Tears rolled down my face during the honeymoon cruise episode. The intellectual edge to all of Fey’s work, whether TV, film, or now memoir, doesn’t allow for a lot of empathy between her and her audience, which is who this memoir is pitched to after all, not necessarily to readers per se. She’s hard to relate to because she’s so damn clever and observant you fear that if she were to meet you, she’d raise a bored and/or distracted eyebrow and walk away, tossing an unflattering summation of your being at you in five words or less. You’d never recover, as haunted by her words as I am by those freakish male arms cradling her face on the cover. Yet, she manages to be almost likable for all that because she puts herself out there with her judgments and phobias (feet) and occasional insecurities. Best from a distance, I think…and I think that’s where Fey wants fans to land with her. I can’t wait to see what she does next.
(*Rejoined Goodreads after deleting my account in outrage when Amazon bought it. Lost some good reviews, so just in case I get outraged again, I’m going to share them here as well).