Ladyparts - Deborah Copaken

Memoir

Rating: 6/10

Characterized as a decade long chronicle of personal traumas illustrated by the examination of the malfunctioning body parts associated with each new upheaval, I plunged into this read with a certain expectation. I understood this was at its heart a memoir, but I assumed there would be more correlation of the narrative back to the human body.  You know, given the title and all.

But sadly, I didn’t get nearly enough of those moments, although the tidbits parsed out were a hilarious delight.  The tales of a menstrual blood bath bearing traces of what you feel sure are vital organs, how at times the bits that are expelled from our lady parts resemble props from a horror film and the inexplicable stains that plague our panties.

The author attempts to use the parts of the body as a kind of scaffolding, that as dismantled can be related back to a disintegrating marriage, rampant agism, regular unemployment and more.

All that is fine, it’s the wildly careening tangents that I take issue with. They are profuse, relentless, and frequently disjointed. While we all need to speak out on what doesn’t make sense in the world; sexism, racism, economic inequality, and health care challenges, to name a few, to attempt to give voice to them all on one platform feels overindulgent.

In the end, a reader might find themselves asking what this book is supposed to be about. This reader certainly did.

Book Pairing(s): The Menopause Manifesto by Dr. Jen Gunter, Shrill by Lindy West, I Feel Bad About My Neck by Nora Ephron