For years, viciousness was the key to survival for women in comedy-as it was for women in many other male-dominated worlds: Be hard on women, including yourselves, lest you be mistaken for one. We might be witnessing a boom in this kind of comedic literature, but nothing in the history of comedy has prepared us for it. But the crucial second half of the dynamic is that these women, all with massive public platforms they have built in a profession long defined by men, are also eager to put their moxie to work assuring those who see themselves as underdogs to continue to fight, to “take up space” (as Poehler puts it in Yes, Please), to ask for what they want in life and in work and in relationships. These are books that are funny and self-deprecating and often outrageous, but also earnest, upfront, and almost transparent in their mission to speak directly and helpfully to their presumably younger, presumably female readers.Ĭomedy often involves an exploitation of quirks and personal weakness, the exposure of flaws in exchange for laughs. Tina Fey’s Bossypantssits atop this heap, which also includes Mindy Kaling’s Is Everyone Hanging Out With Me? Sarah Silverman’s The Bedwetter and Rachel Dratch’s Girl Walks into a Bar. Yes Please is not a great book, but it is a funny, likeable entry in a peculiarly sweet, generous micro-genre: books by brash female comedians anxious to share the stories of their own set-backs and self-doubts while imparting wisdom about strength, independence, and what they’ve learned to other women.
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