Another memoir dealing with childhood trauma, depression and loss with a gigantic sense of humour…
Genre: Graphic Novel, Memoir, Non Fiction,
No. of pages: 519
Allie Brosh returns with a new collection of comedic, autobiographical, and illustrated essays.
Solutions and Other Problems includes humorous stories from Allie Brosh’s childhood; the adventures of her very bad animals; merciless dissection of her own character flaws; incisive essays on grief, loneliness, and powerlessness; as well as reflections on the absurdity of modern life.
This full-color, beautifully illustrated edition features all-new material with more than 1,600 pieces of art.
Where ‘Hyperbole and a Half’ had me in tears of joy and sadness and brilliantly juxtaposed serious issues about mental health and loss with the random stupidity and innocence of youth; ‘Solutions and Other Problems’ tried to follow this roadmap, but just didn’t hit the turns right. I didn’t really laugh that much, and while the more serious topics were sobering, they didn’t drag the emotion out of me like the debut… maybe I’m now dead inside?
The artwork is splendidly artistic and simple at the same time as being hugely expressive to convey emotion and subtext. Brosh’s skills as an artist are amazing. So too are her talents to craft comic strips and tell story snippets. It was highly entertaining… there was just something about the collation of everything that didn’t sell it for me like ‘Hyperbole and a Half.’ There was something missing too – that intensity. But knowing what the author was going through in her personal life white creating this graphic novel, I’m not surprised. In fact I’m immensely impressed that not only did she get out of bed in the morning, but that she managed to craft another illustrated memoir at all. It is a true testament to her strength, even if she never feels that strength on some days.
I am in awe of her talent.
I got the hardback copy which has thick paper stock and the pages have a reflective satiny feel. All this quality makes the book heavy. I seriously wondered if I needed to hit the gym so I could finish reading this thing.
As this is a collection of essays in aspect, and a mix of topics, there is not really any storyline, or plot, so you can do little to predict what is going on. You just have to strap in for a ride and expect the unexpected. And it’s commonly crazy unexpected… emphasis on crazy (and just to be clear that is on a slur on mental illness, merely commentary at the randomness of it all. Hmmm maybe a better world would be chaos. Yes! The chaos of it all!)
I would still recommend this book. It is an entertaining read, you could get this completed in one sitting, or take your time as each story/chapter as it isn’t all that long, and you can choose where to stop and not worry as bout forgetting where you are, or what came before, because everything is fairly self-encapsulated.
I just hope we don’t have to wait another 7 years to see something published from Allie Brosh again.
Overall feeling: Chaotic good.
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Genre: YA, Fantasy, Historical
G was adorable. Who doesn’t love horses. And cute guys? G (Gifford) was both rolled into one. While I found his ‘curse’ on the surface preposterous, it was in fact the source of great comedy. I think it also kept G in a state of innocence and adolescence longer to enable him to grow and develop as a character with Jane, rather than in the male aristocracy. He was in effect, mostly untouched by the prejudices of that era, and we see him go through an awakening similar to that of Edward.
Usually we get home before he drinks half a bowl of water and collapses, blissful, satiated. Though on rare occasions, Baillie runs out of steam… and there he’ll sit. Decided he’s had enough. And he’s not movin’. No way. No how. (At which point I start having flashbacks to YouTube clips of owners dragging their dead-weight furbabies along the pavement by the lead.)
I don’t waste time putting on a face full of make-up – sometimes I don’t even brush my hair. Most mornings, it’s a shower, throw on some comfortable clothes and sneakers, and then straight to the keyboard. No longer am I in tailored work attire and high heels, coiffed to perfection. I relax in my stretched out jeans and coffee mug permanently sitting on my right hand side. Every day is casual Friday!
I never have to travel far either. Some very rare days, I’ll write right there in bed on my lap top! No long hours stuck in traffic or squeezed in on public transport wondering who is responsible for that odorous smell or dodging that one man who is staring at you in a completely inappropriate way unabashedly.
I don’t get interrupted by people walking past, or popping their head into my office. I’m not continually putting out conceptual fires or managing clashing personalities. I have complete control over my work environment. I can unplug the phone and internet if I so desire. Or lament in a busy coffee shop with the soundtrack of gossip and top 40 pop hits – it’s whatever takes my fancy. I can say I LOVE no distractions! Especially when that muse whacks you upside the head with an anvil and you just have to get everything down on paper as quickly as you can.
I get to pick my hours – I can plan my writing around social visits or events. Some days I write better first thing in the morning, others in the evening hours… just as long as I write every day! I have a pretty much set schedule, but on those days when you are feeling shackled in, it is great to scream out the window and do what the heck you want. I could never have done that in an office or classroom. That adaptability definitely helps increase my productive hours writing.
I get to leave my desk in a mess – if I’m in a particular point in a piece of writing and need to call it quits for a day, I can leave my desk in a state of what may look like disarray, but everything is set up for ease of access to information. I can simply walk away and come back the next morning and start right off at the point I left the day before. I never have to worry about things being moved, the cleaner disrupting my files. This comes in handy when I nearing the end of writing a first draft or going through edits. I can be a messy worker in those times.
Lunch can be a quick trip to the kitchen or microwave. I no longer need to go find a good coffee shop, stand in line and find the perfect seat to consume said lunch – plus eating in public, and consuming food with onion, tuna and other odorous foodstuffs were always off the menu in consideration of my workmates. Now I can stick the place up to my heart’s desire!
Every day is take your pet to work day! It has been proven that having a four-legged companion can increase your productivity and lower your blood pressure – and I intend to embrace that whole-heartedly!
If you want to quickly google something completely unrelated to what you’re working on, you can without the internet Nazi’s scrutinizing your browser history (or how much time you spend watching cat videos.) So no time is waisted continually glancing over your shoulder to see if anyone can see what is on your screen, and then madly running through folders to empty your temporary folders… not that I ever indulged of ‘naughty’ internet activity at work ;p
At times, especially if I am particularly nervous, I’ll catch on a certain word, like a CD skipping, in a weird stutter of half pronounce words, desperately trying to catch up with my train of thought before I realise I sound like a Martian. I almost hear my Grandmothers voice reminding me “elocution darling. Use your words.” Thanks Grandma, it’s not like I’m not freaking out enough at the sound of my own voice, bringing the attention to the fact I can’t string two English words together isn’t helping. Go tell Grandad the magpies are stealing his cherry tomatoes again and leave me alone.
But a much worse malady occurs far too often – the nervous giggle. Only because it’s infectious, spreading like a virus through the room as other people chime in with return laughter. Before you know it, everyone has devolved into fits of laughter – which doesn’t bode well for me, because I have two types of laugh: the silent scream, where I look like I’m laughing, but someone has hit the mute button; and then the donkey bray, a wheezy shriek punctuated with a snort. Not the most elegant of chuckles. And of course, people laugh at my laugh, which makes me laugh. And the cycle continues until one of us has to pee, passes out, or begin to cough and choke. Believe me when I say this is no exaggeration. It really happens. I’m a great trick you drag out at dull and boring parties to get people in the mood.
Don’t get me started on nervous scratching, constantly playing with my hair or shuffling paper. My hands just won’t stay still. In the past I’ve had to grip on to the table or sit on my twitching fingers so I don’t look like I’m currently high on ADD medication. If I’m more relaxed, it’s great… if you don’t mind me channelling some Italian old man, sentences running over each other in increasing volume, punctuated by arm waving, flapping and pointing. Yes, conversational semaphore. Clear all glasses and breakable objects from the immediate vicinity, I’m a clumsy excited dope.
And finally (thank goodness it’s only happened once – and I learnt my lesson) unintentional displays of magic. Note: when clearing breakable objects, remove all vacant chairs around me as well. While giving an oral presentation at high school, I was so nervous, I ended up sitting back on the teacher’s desk to try and calm down as I spoke. Boy was I wired and felt like I was about to explode. Starting my speech, everyone seemed wrapt, but felt it was going well. I kept my eyes glues to my cue cards, and powered through. Until people began twittering. Had I said a joke? Then it happened again, more sniggering. Oh crap! Was there food on my teeth, did I leave my fly down? What in tarnation was going on? Cue the fidgeting, stuttering and giggling… until the teacher called a halt to the torture and informed me of what was so funny: I’d hooked my feet under a chair in front of me and began to lift it up and down. Behold this magical levitating chair! I seriously had no idea that was what I was doing. Did my legs get possessed ‘Evil Dead’ style in dastardly a plan to send my English grade point average plummeting?
Genre: Memoir, Comedy
We get a peek behind the curtain at SNL and some of her acting jobs which was interesting – more so about how she dealt with the environment rather than juicy back stage gossip. But it is her journey through life, and events/opportunities continually coming much later than typically expected (another thing I related to), that were touching and heart-felt. It was not meant to be a poor-me sob story or pity party. It was a plain statement of how society puts pressure and labels on women of a certain age in the various stages of their life. Sometimes it just makes you want to scream ‘Assface’ at everyone, like one of the crazy New Yorkers she talks about. It is unfair and discriminatory (and somewhat bitchy) but Dratch navigates around it all silently, forever searching for her own happily ever after. But – she’ ain’t dead yet, so don’t expect to read it by the end of the book – though the spirit still lives strong in her heart.
I would have liked to read more about her creative process, and experienced a little more funny stuff in her book, but feel privileged to have been able to share this snippet of her life. It helped validate my own choices and circumstances.
Genre: Memoir, Comedy
I have to admit, my sneezes are not the most delicate in manner. I sound like a tradie who’s whacked his thumb with a hammer. They are loud, violent, and my voice drops into the low register. It’s a shout-sneeze.
Casey Carlisle 