{"id":1802,"date":"2018-11-06T19:02:34","date_gmt":"2018-11-07T00:02:34","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sites.owu.edu\/engblog\/?p=1802"},"modified":"2019-09-24T00:32:31","modified_gmt":"2019-09-24T04:32:31","slug":"lets-hear-it-for-the-little-struggles-lisa-kogans-adventures-in-what-it-means-to-be-alive","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sites.owu.edu\/engblog\/2018\/11\/06\/lets-hear-it-for-the-little-struggles-lisa-kogans-adventures-in-what-it-means-to-be-alive\/","title":{"rendered":"Let\u2019s Hear it for the Little Struggles: Lisa Kogan\u2019s Adventures in What it Means to be Alive by Anna Davies ’19"},"content":{"rendered":"

There\u2019s no shortage of seriousness in the modern landscape of creative nonfiction. Week after week, <\/span>The New York Times<\/span><\/i>\u2019 Bestsellers List exalts narratives exploring the horrors of our world: Ta-Nehisi Coates\u2019s <\/span>Between the World and Me <\/span><\/i>at 84 weeks on the list, Jeannette Walls\u2019s <\/span>The Glass Castle <\/span><\/i>at 436 weeks on the list, and Bryan Stevenson\u2019s <\/span>Just Mercy <\/span><\/i>at 119 weeks on the list, to name a few. Just so we\u2019re clear, I\u2019m not trying to criticize the serious side of creative nonfiction. The stories of the aforementioned writers definitely need to be told, and the genre gives them a prime venue to do so. What I\u2019m saying is we\u2019ve got plenty of books exploring the evils of existence, but where are the stories about–well, <\/span>mundane <\/span><\/i>life?<\/span> Where are the books that explore everyday problems like forgetting to do the laundry, and celebrate small moments like eating Thai takeout with our family? Even life\u2019s simpler tragedies like Great Clips royally fucking up our hair or our favorite brand of lip gloss being discontinued deserve to be written about, right?<\/span><\/p>\n

Thank God Lisa Kogan, <\/span>O, The Oprah Magazine<\/span><\/i>\u2019s resident source of wit, saw fit to address pressing issues like massive insecurity, people who clip their fingernails in elevators, and the temptation of the dessert menu. The result is <\/span>Someone Will Be With You Shortly<\/span><\/i>, an insightful, sarcastic, and gloriously self-deprecating hot take on life\u2019s smaller struggles.<\/span><\/p>\n

From her first essay, Kogan introduces herself as a significantly flawed and completely human person. She\u2019s got \u201cone foot planted firmly in the land of the single woman,\u201d a Swiss boyfriend she sees about every two months, and a kid she has zero idea how to raise. She\u2019s just liberal enough to love Rachel Maddow and rail against Guantanamo Bay, but just selfish enough to pity herself when she gets cut in line at Starbucks while buying a Tazo Berry Iced Tea. She\u2019s pretty sure she\u2019s got flabby upper arms, pretty sure it\u2019s because of the junk food she loves to eat, and pretty sure she\u2019s had enough of societal body standards and expectations. And her workday consists of constantly cranking out content, both for an established publication and for freelance work as a ghostwriter, to afford rent for her overpriced two-bedroom apartment in New York City. Or, as she calls it, \u201cthe only city that would take me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Kogan\u2019s <\/span>O <\/span><\/i>columns-turned-essay collection of \u201cnotes from a perfectly imperfect life\u201d is the fresh batch of witty anecdotes we crave. Stories of bad neighbors, rude butchers, deadbeat men, and disgusting New York subway dwellers feature the deadpan delivery and bizarre specificity of David Sedaris\u2019s journal entries. Throw in the self-aware, self-pitying standup storytelling of John Mulaney, a Lexapro prescription, and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, and you\u2019ve got Kogan. She\u2019s quirky, sometimes unbearably awkward, sometimes outwardly mean, but always aware of her place within the world. \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Stylistically, she tells each story in a sleek and precise four to seven pages. It\u2019s a result of both her magazine writing background\u2014seven years the Writer-at-Large for <\/span>ELLE<\/span><\/i> and 19 years at <\/span>O<\/span><\/i>–and her overworked-mommy lifestyle. Think the humorous, introspective ponderings of David Foster Wallace writing \u201cTicket to the Fair,\u201d except with a \u201cBarbie backpack-carrying forty-six-pounder with a wobbly front tooth\u201d and without the paragraphs of indulgent description and self-seriousness. The result is perfect for those of us who use our sense of humor to survive life\u2019s incessant busyness.<\/span><\/p>\n

Despite her length limits, Kogan makes each piece count, just like how she makes each small moment within her pieces count. A sharp attention to detail and a great habit of collecting up eccentricities like Turkish food, her daughter\u2019s stuffed platypus, and a secret stash of $200 in her underwear drawer helps Kogan craft airtight stories about the events and people that matter most. In the world of contemporary nonfiction, she proves you don\u2019t have to speak of the morose, deadly, and horrific in order to get to the heart of the human soul.<\/span> Instead, she uses the insignificant to magnify the significant. Walking to work or getting snubbed in the apartment lobby become musings on humanity and connection. How many essays exist about a failed third birthday party at a play gym in which one prays \u201cPlease, God, let this stuff I just stepped in turn out to be apple juice\u201d? How many function as a larger meditation on what it means to be a good parent? And how many can do it within four pages? <\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

At the heart of each piece is a desire to deconstruct unachievable societal narratives about family and relationships, showing that real love is built on the same thing Kogan builds her writing on: authenticity. For example, she blasts through romantic fantasies, laying bare every petty grievance she\u2019s ever taken with her longtime boyfriend, Johannes. Out of the ashes of these fights that never should\u2019ve happened (like \u201cthe would-it-kill-you-to-go-that-extra-step-from-the-sink-to-the-dishwasher episode of last Tuesday\u201d), Kogan reconstructs a beautifully realistic and heartwarming picture of what love is and should be: security, empathy, forgiveness, communication, knowledge of your partner\u2019s favorite sad song singer (Tom Waits), and strong dislikes (animated commercials about toe fungus medications). Kogan says so herself: \u201cAnybody can sprinkle rose petals across a big brass bed, but only a real man will hold your hair while you\u2019re throwing up.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The same goes with pregnancy and raising a child. Kogan gleefully smashes any ideas of the \u201chappy mommy\u201d archetype by enlightening readers on her twenty-two hour labor, complete with admissions that she may or may not have called her <\/span>obstetrician<\/span> a \u201cmotherfucking succubus.\u201d She delves into her own relationship with her mother, a delightfully neurotic Jewish matriarch, to whom she may never \u201csay the kind of things you read in Hallmark cards.\u201d But they\u2019ve forgiven each other, with no small effort from their \u201crespective shrinks,\u201d for the many battles of adolescence and for bland dinners of Birds Eye frozen green beans and broiled chicken breasts. And that forgiveness seems more than enough.<\/span><\/p>\n

As a lifelong resident of the middle class, it sometimes seems Kogan whines about life being unfair a bit too much. But she keeps readers from accusing her of being self-centered, spoiled, or privileged by completely owning her flaws with a stunning amount of self-awareness. Essays like \u201cBed, Bacon, and Beyond\u201d aren\u2019t written to excuse her fragile ego and short temper, they\u2019re written to expose it. In the vein of darkly comedic \u00a0essay collections like Sloane Crosley\u2019s <\/span>I Was Told There\u2019d Be Cake<\/span><\/i>, a book firmly committed to revealing the selfish idiosyncrasies and funny shortcomings of its author, Kogan refuses to show herself as anything less than unabashedly human. The vulnerability of each piece empowers readers to say \u201cOh my God, me too\u201d when Kogan reveals she operates on \u201ctwo basic emotions: angst and barely suppressed angst.\u201d Solidarity is found with any reader who finds themselves more upset about breaking their DVD player than the fact the U.S. still doesn\u2019t have universal health care, but Kogan strikes a balance between exploring her own experiences and realizing where they fit within the larger narrative of the world.<\/span><\/p>\n

However, a few of Kogan\u2019s column-essays do fall short. Some little moments don\u2019t have the strength to stand on their own and prove the profound points she wants to make. For example, in \u201cThe First Bad Thing I Ever Did,\u201d a childhood anecdote about Kogan tricking her cousin into petting a vicious monkey at the zoo becomes an allegory for the human ability to cause destruction. The result is a painfully strained attempt at seriousness. Some essays seem rushed and uninventive, too, perhaps a result of her tight magazine deadlines. The essay that\u2019s entirely a list of men she\u2019d consider marrying if her boyfriend tragically passed away, while amusing, reads like a premodern Buzzfeed listicle. Her simplistic formula\u2014just throw humor at life until it starts to make sense!–works perfectly for a 1,000-word weekly column. As a standalone essay collection, though, it gets old, especially when read in one sitting. Yet Kogan manages to keep herself on track to the heart of humanity with a strong sense of self and an insecurity-tinged streak of confidence fighting to exist. And just like she forgives her boyfriend for believing romance is the fancy toilet cleaner that turns the water blue, we forgive her for a few weaker offerings.<\/span><\/p>\n

Someone Will Be With You Shortly <\/span><\/i>is a brave and honest venture into the absurdity of being alive. It may not hit hard with a story of the human ability to destroy, heal, or hate, but it does hit hard with something we all need a bit of to keep pushing forward: real, unadulterated, imperfect love. It\u2019s this kind of love that makes every life, even ones full of ordinary days, have a bigger impact than we ever give ourselves enough credit to realize. Thankfully, we have Lisa Kogan around to remind us.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

There\u2019s no shortage of seriousness in the modern landscape of creative nonfiction. Week after week, The New York Times\u2019 Bestsellers Continue Reading →<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":859,"featured_media":1803,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[42,36],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1802","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book-review","category-reflections"],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.owu.edu\/engblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1802","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.owu.edu\/engblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.owu.edu\/engblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.owu.edu\/engblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/859"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.owu.edu\/engblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1802"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/sites.owu.edu\/engblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1802\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1809,"href":"https:\/\/sites.owu.edu\/engblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1802\/revisions\/1809"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.owu.edu\/engblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1803"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.owu.edu\/engblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1802"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.owu.edu\/engblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1802"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.owu.edu\/engblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1802"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}