Idiotic Is the Word
I'm not one to read a lot of non-fiction, but when I saw the cover of The Idiot Girls' Action-Adventure Club I just had to have it. The cover shot shows the legs of woman in old roller skates and a polka dot dress lying on a hard wood floor. I couldn't resist the promise of an idiot girl action-adventure that included someone who was obviously as klutzy as me.
The book, a collection of short personal essays by humor columnist Laurie Notaro, lived up to the promise of the name. It featured an idiot girl.
Unfortunately, the idiot girl was mostly an idiot because she was a drunk. I know some people find drunks funny and can relate to their antics, but I'm not one of them. I despise drunks. I don't care to read about the time a drunken woman lost her keys because she had no self-control. I am not amused by a drunken woman on the troll for a man. I don't laugh when drunks get into trouble with the law. Though the book is written with wit, I found myself disgusted instead of entertained.
The essays in the book appear to be in arranged in chronological order, thus the reader gets to witness the maturing of Notaro. Thankfully the second half of the book doesn't detail drunken adventures so much as just plain stupid adventures. I find those more entertaining so I was able to get over my disgust and take a tiny bit of joy in reading about someone who's even dumber and clumsier than me.
Overall, though, I'd have to say this short foray into the world of non-fiction has put me off Laurie Notaro for good. The essays read like very well-written blog entries by a person I would never want to meet. Notaro details the sad lives of two little girls who arrive on her doorstep with a plan to earn some money by clipping the hedges. Notaro uses the girls as an ongoing joke even as she makes it clear that the girls are at the very least victims of neglect (they are always hungry). I can't laugh at the plight of two hungry girls who glom on to an abrasive personality just because she feeds them. I kept yelling "call social services! Call social services!" but no one seemed to hear me. Hungry, possibly abused children? Simply not the stuff of mirth no matter how cleverly written the essay--and the essays do follow the rules of English and are readable but I would never say they are unique or compelling.
Perhaps I'm just a prude. Perhaps I need to lighten up. Perhaps I have no sense of humor. You might very well find yourself rolling on the floor laughing at Notaro's antics. I just hope you get the book from the library before you shell out cold hard cash for this unfunny mess of essays.