British columnist Caitlin Moran’s nonfiction book How to Be a Woman was published in 2011 – and I meant to read it in 2011, too. I really did. But despite best intentions, it wasn’t until my sister and I were browsing in a bookstore last month, and she asked if I’d read How to Be a Woman, that I bought the book. My only regret is that I waited so long to do so.
I can’t remember the last time a book made me laugh out loud, but Moran’s blend of memoir, essay, and cultural criticism had me not only laughing, but nodding my head in agreement and reading passages out loud to my husband. I defy anyone to read the chapter “I Don’t Know What to Call My Breasts!”, particularly the section where she discusses the difficulty of naming one’s vagina, and not at least chuckle.