I have a problem with Lindy West: none of my strong, feisty, inspiring gal friends are reading her. Admittedly, I only recently discovered her myself when an acquaintance recommended that I check out her essay Donald and Billy on the Bus, published shortly after the piggish tape of Trump bragging about grabbing women’s genitals hit the airwaves. In the coming days, I read a few more of her columns, but it wasn’t until I read her memoir Shrill: Notes from a Loud Woman that, as I wrote in my journal afterwards, I was “on fire with love for Lindy West.” I’m not normally so effusive in book reviews, but if none of my friends are reading Lindy West, who am I to gush with? So, here we are.
Shrill is a collection of and expansion on West’s best essays throughout the years. It touches on a wide variety of topics, including fat shaming and body positivity, internet trolls and online harassment, and period and abortion stigma. West, a fat feminist (her preferred term, by the way) is a columnist for The Guardian and has long been known in the blogosphere for her outspoken writing on feminism and social justice. Long before she was writing for The Guardian, she penned columns for Jezebel and The Stranger, and, as the age of the internet troll came about, she became known for the onslaught of online harassment she experienced while writing for each of these publications, a trend that still continues today.
Why does she get so much hate? Because West fearlessly speaks truth to power and can effortlessly eviscerate any argument thrown her way. She is a deft debater who refuses to cower in the face of relentless sexism and hatred from the deplorables of the world, and that is exactly what makes her book so compelling.
In a way that I still can’t quite pinpoint, reading Shrill felt like coming home for me. What I love most about West is that she constantly demands better from society, and rightfully so. In her most compelling essays (“Hello, I am Fat,” “Chuckletown, USA, Population: Jokes,” “Death Wish,” and “It’s About Free Speech, It’s Not About Hating Women”), she unpacks layer upon layer of nuance to illustrate how society builds and then perpetuates a system that consistently strives to shrink, minimize, and marginalize women. The haters of the world will argue that she rants, that she hates men, that she complains for the sake of complaining. But, of course, the book is none of that. In addition to being well written, fierce, and on point, it’s thoughtful, funny, and sincere. It is warm and earnest and everything I aspire to be while simultaneously fighting the each of the –isms she calls out in the course of her book. For me, the book and her style of writing is the epitome of one of my favorite mottos: Do no harm, but take no shit.
Without exaggeration or hyperbole, I can say that reading this book has made me a better person. It made me think. It made me laugh, and it made me weep. It kept me up at night. But more than anything, Shrill reminded me that our words and our writing matter, that they can move the needle of public opinion and create a better world. More importantly, it reminded me that the hard work of deciphering and analyzing our world via the written word is always a worthy and just cause.
West describes it best herself. In the conclusion of the book, she says:
I think the most important thing I do in my professional life today is delivering public, impermeable “no”s and sticking to them. I say no to people who prioritize being cool over being good. I say no to misogynists who want to weaponize my body against me. I say no to men who feel entitled to my attention and reverence, who treat everything the light touches as a resource for them to burn. I say no to religious zealots who insist that I am less important than an embryo. I say no to my own instinct to stay quiet…. It’s a way of kicking down the boundaries that society has set for women–be compliant, be a caregiver, be quiet–and erecting my own. I will do this. I will not do that. You believe in my subjugation; I don’t have to be nice to you. I am busy. My time is not a public commodity. You are boring. Go away.
That is world-building.
I, too, want to contribute to world-building. Lucky for me, West has already been laying the path for us.
If you’re interested in books about feminism, I’d highly recommend… Men Explain Things to Me by Rebecca Solnit. Not so coincidentally, Solnit has also produced a fantastic amount of intelligent writing on Trump in the past months.
If you’re interested in a more traditional review… check out this one in the New York Times. I have to say, though, that I read Sex Object and much preferred West’s book!