Samantha Irby

When was the last time you laughed yourself to tears while reading a book?

For me, it was in 2021, when I read my last Marie-Renée Lavoie. Wow, No Thank You, by my new favorite author, Samantha Irby.

Yes, I did say “hysteria”. I wanted to read a passage to my boyfriend, and I screamed from laughing so hard. And it didn't stop; I stayed in that state until halfway through the book (then I calmed down, I was only laughing in my head). That's a lot of pages trying to control the spasms of your diaphragm so as not to wake the baby sleeping in the crook of your arm.

Samantha Irby is a lesbian black woman, who grew up poor, has chronic gastrointestinal problems and who loves loves to talk about them publicly. I love self-mockery, I have a weakness for dark humor, and with her, I'm served.

Don't expect any kind of narrative plot, unlike me, who barely reads the titles of the books I start and hasn't seen the word “Essays” on the cover. Each essay can be read in isolation, and can have anything as a theme. In one essay, Irby talks about the mixtape she'd create for someone she'd like to impress. In another, she pretends she's responding to requests for love advice in a newspaper or something (I can't think of that one without laughing).

As my boyfriend pointed out, the humor is very topical. If you're not about the same age as the author (I'm only about ten years younger... how time flies), or if you're not sufficiently familiar with American culture, you'll be stumped. But me, in any case, I'm completely charmed, and I'm convinced that I'll get through her bibliography quickly. I'm already reading Quietly Hostile, which is very similar and doesn't disappoint.

Now, because an example is worth a thousand words, here are not one, but two excerpts to give you a taste of what you'll be treated to for pages and pages and pages if you give yourself the gift of opening a Samantha Irby book.

Excerpt 1

My lady and I were out getting hammered at the local watering hole on a weeknight and feeling like cool olds, when the waiter asked if it was “moms’ night out,” while offering to explain to us what whiskey is. And now I’m a corpse – please bury me in my L.L.Bean comfort fleece.

ME: “Excuse me, I have tattoos, Jeff.“

HIM: “Oh my goodness, ma’am, I’m so sorry, I just saw the fluid collecting at your ankles and assumed -“

[…]

Excerpt 2

I once read one of these profiles where the woman featured talked about alkalizing her body at the start of the day with lemon water, and I am being 100 percent sincere when I say thatt sentences like that fucking mystify me. What does that mean? How did she learn those words?? I go to the doctor every other day and never has one of them told me about alkalization. Alkalining? Alkalinization? THE NEED TO BE ALKALIZED. I’m in awe of people who talk like that with a straight face, and let me tell you: the shit stucl. So now I start my morning (I mean, afternoon) by drinking some room-temperature water from the pitcher on the counter with a few slices of Meyer lemon from those little bags of them you can get at Trader Joe’s. It has done absolutely nothing for me, from what I can tell, but later on, when I eat an entire jalapeno-and-pepperoni pizza and feel bad about it, I can think to myself, “Bitch, remember when you alkalized?!” and feel clean.

I'll anticipate your needs and put the list of Samantha Irby's essays here. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Note : To the best of my knowledge, these books have not been translated into French, which doesn't surprise me, because the translation would have every chance of being rotten. This is your chance to learn English correctly.