Review: Moranthology 0 Comments

Review: Moranthology

I first discovered Caitlin Moran when I, finally realising that being a feminist was nothing to be ashamed of, crawled out from under my sizeable rock and decided to read her first novel; How To Be A Woman.

I’ve always considered myself a feminist, but had never thought to explore what it meant to me to actually be one. With the likes of Clementine Ford and Karen Pickering amazing the shit out of me with their support of equality, in particular that of women, I jumped right onto the book’s bandwagon. And – let’s be honest – anyone who knows me will see that Moran was a good author to start with. It’s a very easy read.

Having said all that, here it is: Moranthology did not at all live up to my expectations. I haven’t read a collection of newspaper columns since reading Jeremy Clarkson’s The World According to Clarkson and I forgot that this particular format of book isn’t for me.

Now that’s not to say that I didn’t like it entirely! On the contrary, some parts in it made me laugh involuntarily loudly on public transport, such as when Pete, Moran’s husband finds her Mooncup underneath his pillow. If you don’t know what a Mooncup is, please Google it. You will laugh.

Moran has a wicked sense of humour, and there are several more laugh-out-loud parts in this book: her interview with the Keith Richards, Daddy’s `Special Lemonade’, and her slightly unnerving, yet apparently justified, obsession with Benedict Cumberbatch, to name a few.

Now a problem I encountered, as well as when I read Clarkson’s book, was that as someone who doesn’t live in the United Kingdom, I really had no idea what the fuck they were talking about half the time. `Oh, don’t you hate it when you’re on the tube and this happens and then you get stuck at Westminster when you’re meant to be at 10 Downing Street? HAHAHAHA!’ Well, no, I don’t really. Sorry, Caitlin, that’s not to say that it wasn’t good. It was just that in between reading a paragraph and Googling events/places, it really jarred at points for me. My loss!

The other main issue I had with this, It’s just that, well, some parts of the columns seem so contrived. I mean, it’s understandable; writing a weekly column would probably explode my brain, but the humour at times is just downright silly.

Why not, for instance, write more about her childhood memories, as she explores in depth in part three of the book? Her reminiscing of her family holidays to Aberystwyth, coupled with the fact that she goes there every year with her own family, is very touching, and very honest.

I adore how frank Moran is in regards to her childhood. Yes, she was the eldest of eight children. Yes, they were very poor. Yes, she was very lonely growing up, but does she dwell on any of this? Nope, she states it and moves on. And that’s an admirable quality, especially in someone who is given liberty to write whatever they like in a column each week.

Although the format of the book really wasn’t for me you should give it a whirl. I’d recommend it just for the `All the Ways I’ve Ruined Your Life’ piece. Hilarious. You’ll (maybe) laugh so much that you won’t even care that people are backing away from you on the train with irritated faces.

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