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Fuck Politeness

This is a revolution, not a public relations movement

I’m currently reading Judith Lucy’s ‘The Lucy Family Alphabet’. Shit it’s a good read.I don’t know what I expected, but I guess my take on her humour (from admittedly limited experience) had been that sometimes the punchlines were a little too expected or hammy. This may have been from vague memories of scripted movies and quotes in interviews though, where it is more about the delivery of an expected punchline.

But we saw her live a while back, and while sometimes I certainly did know how the jokes would end, she was feisty and funny and loud, and I loved that she was standing up there taking the piss out of herself and everyone else, with no attempt to play into ‘girly girl’ roles, or paint herself as suave and ‘together’. There’s a candour there that’s usually reserved for men, and women are supposed to ‘tone it down’ – and the fact that she just doesn’t is enough to make me love her.

But I guess I still had this background concern that her writing might prove to be a little like my experience of Kathy Lette’s recent novels, you know, the attempt to jam way too many gags into a paragraph so that it reads in a way that you imagine the author honking a clown nose, tipping you a wink and doing that ‘by jingo, she’s a beauty’ Aussie thumbs up at you to get you to acknowledge the HILARITY that is until you want to hurl the book across the room.

But it’s sensational. I’m up to the end of the “H” section, and I really do love this book.

She’s just so…honest. And I mean really really honest, not ‘Look how SINCERE I am’ honest. It’s very much a book that discloses exactly her current take on things, in a very pragmatic sense, regardless of whom it might upset, regardless of whether it makes her look ‘good’, it’s sad, funny and beautiful. It’s honest in that sometimes her ‘take’ is limited to ‘Ok, I can’t care about this any more. I’m sure there’s more to be said but well you know, fuck that, I need to get on with things’.

The section on F is for Fearful was just a sensational piece of honest self reflection. And fucking funny.

Anyway. I just keep wishing I could stay home in this rainy, rainy weather, and shuffle around in my pjs and nurse mugs of tea and read this book uninterrupted and really just give it the attention it deserves and disappear into it for a while.


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