Yes Please by Amy Poehler

Being a life-long fan of making people laugh, I grew up believing that female comedians weren’t a thing; I believed I had developed a man-gland that made it possible for me to not only make people laugh, but make men laugh. I thought myself to be quite individual and relatively unique in this department. My comedy heroes growing up were all men and I didn’t resonate with female comedians at all – the only ones I really knew embodied a repertoire that mostly discussed their sexual activities with their husbands and an underlying element of feminist humour that, unless you are particularly feminist, doesn’t win you any giggles on a grand scale and at the time, being a youngster, I didn’t really feel that this brand of comedy, or indeed feminism represented me or my comedic style (I use the term ‘comedic style’ incredibly loosely). When I first discovered Tina Fey and then her work-wife, Amy Poehler, everything changed. These were women who lived and breathed improv comedy and made it their life’s work. They became heroes of mine and I have followed their careers with an almost obsessive compulsion ever since. So, when I heard that Amy Poehler was releasing a book, I had it pre-ordered for months before it turned up on my doorstep. Having read Bossypants by Tina Fey years beforehand, I had incredibly high hopes.

First, let me make it clear that Yes Please did not disappoint me… at all; I devoured it like a hungry wolf and find myself regularly flicking back and forth through the book to find bits I liked and read them again – but I will admit that I did begin reading it expecting to find an almost page for page likeness to Bossypants and I believe that I was almost certainly wrong in that department. Let’s not be naïve here, whilst Poehler and Fey embody a relatively similar sense of comedy, they are entirely different in their delivery and ownership thereof. Whilst I feel that Fey doesn’t own her comedy and seems like she is constantly conscious of her audience, thus making almost every line in her book a punch line, Poehler is the opposite. Whilst Fey’s novel reads like a comedic series of essays with elements of life, work, love and motherhood interspersed, Poehler’s does not. That’s not to say that Yes Please isn’t a laugh a minute, because it really is, I just feel that it is executed in a more effortless manner than Fey’s. Poehler seems to own her sense of comedy as much as she owns her sense of self and reading through Yes Please really feels like reading through the memoirs of someone who is completely and unabashedly at ease with herself in every sense.

To me, Yes Please didn’t feel like reading through a biography at all and when I got past the fact I expected Poehler to use comedy to embellish her life story, it felt really like an inspirational memoir aimed at women who want to feel more comfortable in their own skin. Poehler’s narration feels like an old friend who is subtly encouraging you to be a better version of yourself by coaxing an element of happiness and comfortableness out of your sub-conscious and making it an active sense of your conscious self and is set out into three categories which all read like inspirational slogans for a well-being poster:

SAY whatever you want

DO whatever you like

BE whoever you are

Each chapter is thus filled with anecdotes, essays and life lessons Poehler herself has learned throughout her life and career in comedy; it reads with relative ease and flows together so effortlessly that you find yourself becoming endlessly inspired by her candidness and gracefully uncomplicated comedic rhetoric that seems entirely unique to Poehler. Whilst reading about parts of her life that she has been hurt or affected by, she manages to make it seem less upsetting or tragic by piling on the inspiration, or using a quip or slice of comedy to lighten the blow – it seems entirely effortless and not at all a conscious attempt to make her seem less vulnerable; instead it just seems like this is the real Poehler – deflecting sad feelings with humour, thus owning it and making it okay. I do exactly the same thing and I have to admit, it helps.

Whilst I have been a fan of Poehler’s for over a decade now, I still found myself learning a lot about her – she is endlessly supportive to her co-workers and peers and has created an almost tour de force of comedy pals that in turn, not only support her but love her endlessly. The piece Seth Myers wrote about her and how they met is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever read, not only affirming that Myers is an absolute angel, but that Poehler is not only a joy to work with, but a joy to know too. I also enjoyed the part she wrote about Tina Fey, in response to Fey’s own excerpt in BossyPants about Poehler – their work-wifery is inspirational and in a sense such a feminist attitude to have towards one’s co-worker/hero/best friend – they are the epitome of women in the workplace, which is such a stark contrast to the media’s representation of women in work, life and play – we don’t actually all hate each other and are, actually, pretty much our best friends’ cheerleaders every chance we get. I enjoyed the graphics that accompanied the piece and her own admission that she would have Fey re-write it for her to make it better; the supportive nature of their friendship is potentially one of the most important pieces for any woman to take away from the novel.

Poehler also has an incredible manner of taking a mirror up to women in society and showing them their true colours; her piece about motherhood in particular was hilarious because it was, in fact, true. Every woman I know who has reproduced and decided to stay home and raise the child and not go back to work, is met with a sense of trepidation, superiority and smugness by women who either have chosen not to have children or who have gone back to work. I myself was in a situation like this a few years ago when I, shock horror, explained I didn’t want to have children until I’d established myself in a career that I felt comfortable and supported in so that I could take ample time off, but then go back. I was met with looks that wouldn’t be entirely out of place from someone who happened to have grown three heads over night. Poehler writes candidly about that in her novel and the life lesson that anyone can take from that is that we’re all different – there is no set rule for women or for mothers, you do whatever it is that you want to do for yourself and no one else.

In short, I found Poehler’s memoirs hilarious, intellectual, inspirational and brilliant; it read like an old friend greeting you over a cold glass of Pinot Grigio and you find yourself becoming sad as it reaches its conclusion. Poehler inspired me and I found myself wishing that I had the same courage and candour to strive towards my life goals with the same unabashed passion and can do attitude that Poehler seems to embody without even realising it herself. As far as my quest goes into reading novels written by hilariously inspirational, confident, independent, feminist women, I have to say that Poehler trumps even the (in my opinion) queen of awesome, Tina Fey. I loved Yes Please and would urge anyone looking for a literary comfort blanket to pick it up and embrace it like the inspirational piece that I’m not sure it was intended to be. I can guarantee you won’t regret it.

Introduction: Confessions of a Twenty Something.

Writing about yourself is supposed to be a really difficult process, but because I am so inherently narcissistic, I found it quite easy. Also because I’m really smart.  It just goes to show that if you have a generally elevated sense of self-worth, you can accomplish pretty much anything and that it is, in fact, insecurity and a lack of faith in yourself that breeds misery and stunts any form of creative process and talents in the process… The Harlot!

In a far more realistic sense, it was actually pretty difficult and spending so much time planning pieces and not wanting to include things that would make family members disown me, it meant that I spent a long time pensively staring into the distance, wondering if I could feasibly lie throughout the whole biographical process and get away with it. Turns out that I can, which is very pleasing (not really). I had many working titles for this series of posts. One title, which I wrote about pretty much at the start of my blogging journey, when I decided that I would one day write a biographical piece that would sell millions and make me rich beyond my wildest nightmares would be: The History of Dildos: Confessions of a Wine Addict, because I thought it was a really great, historical play on words – like, some people would think that I would be discussing dildos at some point (which, let’s face it, is always a possibility) and others would think that ‘dildo’ is actually a metaphor for me as a person, which is far more correct and if you guessed that you’re probably really smart and/or went to university. I also thought about the title Be Mediocre! Because I was reading Hadley Freeman’s Be Awesome at the time and thought I was burgeoning on being a comedic genius. I finally settled on Mad About the Brain: My Journey from There to Here because it has multiple meanings (again, I’m really showing off my mad skills, here): Mostly I’m talking about the things that go on in my brain and how life has shaped me and made me the adult I am today, but, also, because my nickname for the love of my life, male human shape I adore, is Brain and it was conceived when I first met him following the little avatar he uses at work to chat to people and because, if you choose to read further (which you might not) there are certain life events that took place that, I feel, wouldn’t have made me as available, I guess, to fall in love with Brain as quickly as I did, so I guess there’s always that. I’m sickening, I know.

There will also be helpful tips and anecdotes throughout the series so that you can feel inspired by the inner workings of my mind and revere me as some kind of Geordie Goddess (move over, Cheryl!) it will, also, hopefully try to conclude in a manner that is far more successful than the current conclusion you’re reading (see, you didn’t even know, did you?) and maybe inform you all what I think that I’ve learned in my twenty six years on earth. If you’ve read my Series of Lamentations which was a half-hearted attempt before I got bored and decided to do this, then you’ll know what I’m hoping to achieve (and if you do please tell me, because I have no idea).

I hope you enjoy it, if you get through to the end, let me know and I’ll buy you a congratulatory beer. Thank you in advance. Doris xx