I’ve read a lot of celebrity memoirs in my time. I mean, sure, I’ve read a lot of other books too — classics, contemporary fiction, piles and piles of picture books and a delightfully but painfully kitschy series about the young, rich and fabulous of Singapore — but I have found a hefty portion of my personal collection dedicated to the celebrity. Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Mindy Kaling, Lena Dunham, Diane Von Furstenberg, Leandra Medine and Grace Coddington have all found a home in my IKEA bookshelf, symbolizing, probably, my only two loves in pop-culture: fashion and comedy. I would be more ashamed of this fact, but with this array of incredible women lining my shelves, who could be mad?
As a devoted, obsessive fan of the IFC show Portlandia, I squealed when co-creator and star Carrie Brownstein announced she would be releasing a book this fall. Titled Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl, it was sure to glisten with the trademark absurdity and witty observations the show is famous for, and I absolutely could not wait. I pre-ordered the book on Amazon, something I never do, and when the Oct. 27 release date finally rolled around, I found myself planted behind my front door, hot with anticipation for the mail carrier to drop that glorious book-sized package on my porch.
Now, for such a “devoted” fan of Carrie Brownstein I knew very little about her history. To me she was one half of one of the funniest shows on television, but to countless others she is one-third of a virtuosic, era-defining punk band of the ’90s and early 2000s. Of course I was aware of her time with Sleater-Kinney (mostly thanks to Wikipedia) but, because of a personal aversion to droney guitars and tuneless punk voices, I never really gave the band much thought beyond a few minutes of listening to their 2005 album “The Woods.” What can I say? I guess punk isn’t really my thing.
Much to my initial dismay, Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl drew heavily from Brownstein’s life leading up to and with Sleater-Kinney. This should have been expected, seeing that the title of her name comes from a line in Sleater-Kinney’s song “Modern Girl,” but hopeful as I was, I kept reading.
And thank God I did. The book buzzes with unabashed emotional honesty hard to come by in memoirs like this. For any other writer, Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl would come across as self-affected and emotionally strained, but Brownstein’s undeniable gift for the personal narrative buoys the book, elevating it from the typical celebrity memoir. Her wit and humor are sprinkled throughout the book, providing much-needed balance in the naturally gut-wrenching stories of her ailing mother leaving her family and an allergy-induced meltdown on tour resulting in the breakup of Sleater-Kinney.
What really stands out in Hunger is Brownstien’s vehement distaste for fitting in. Through reciting her experience in the Riot Grrrl movement of the ’80s and ’90s, Brownstein makes it clear that her intention with Sleater-Kinney was never to be an “important female punk band.” Rather, she sought to succeed in rock music as a band. No labels, no modifiers — just a band.
Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl is a triumphant testament to Carrie Brownstein’s prowess and artistry, both as a musician and as an author. It slings the reader to an alarmingly intimate level of familiarity with Brownstein and proves again and again that she is a force to be reckoned with.
@AdditakOfficial