Ok, "Operating Instructions", a big best-seller...I'm really glad I borrowed this one from the women's center instead of paying to read it:
First of all, the scornful remarks from Anne Lamott about attempting childbirth without an epidural. Next, the nasty jokes about uncircumcised penises and the certainty that not circumcising her son would be cruel. Complaining about being fat over and over again, only to reveal that she weighs 137 lbs...at less that 6 months postpartum.
The endless references to pop-culture figures that she clearly thinks her reader ought to know about, contrasting with a simplistic definition of the word schadenfreude, which she assumes her readers are too ignorant to understand. Starting her baby on solids really early, out of simple boredom. Referring to the poor child's lips as "porno lips". The many friends she makes mean-sounding sarcastic jokes about all the time, even as they clearly humor the living daylights out of her.
The way she calls her baby things like worthless scum and fantasizes about smashing his head against a wall (well, privately in a journal...this is theoretically ok...it just gets weird though when the private journal becomes a big best-seller that the baby will surely read one day). Threatening (out loud, this time) to hit him with a stick full of nails, for having colic and crying. The syrupy little ending paragraph that ties each episode into a nice Anne Lamott-shaped birthday present. The many uptight, nasty "jokes" about her friends being "homos" or about their religions etc.
Bitter complaints about her hair...it supposedly makes her look like a person of color (yikes!), and she thanks God that her son has been spared this fate and blessed with straight, smooth hair. Her general treatment, in prose, of actual black people. A total lack of understanding about lives that are not filled with monetary and cultural privilege (a scary moment for AL is when she realizes that she has only got one job at the moment...a once-a-month food review for which she is paid $1000 plus expenses). And what's more, she makes Christianity seem like a childish security blanket strictly for neurotic people. And she constantly refers to her baby as looking or being "stoned" when she surely just means he looks contented.
I'm sure there are a thousand other things that I hate about this book, but I am only two-thirds of the way through! I cringe every time I turn a page, but by God I'm going to finish it, because sometimes when you're sitting there breastfeeding you just need some junky thing to look at. Right?
Anybody with me on this, or am I all alone in new-mother land?