Tag Archives: miranda july

All Fours by Miranda July

Leave a reply

I’m not sure there’s anything left for me to say that hasn’t already been said about Miranda July’s new book, All Fours, but I read it and so I’ll try to say something here. First, I always really appreciate July’s work and read it when I get the chance. She offers some great insights on the human condition and pairs it with lots of absurd, disgusting, and confusing action. Furthermore, for a bestseller, I can guarantee the writing will not be bad, and that’s more than I can say for a lot of bestsellers.

What I think it so important about the book, and what has given it all of this #allfoursgroupchat energy is that the the book tackles aging; emotional labor, especially in heterosexual relationships; and some of the physical changes and hormonal shifts women experience in their 40s and 50s. There are so many unique and terrible aspects of this reality that July captured accurately for me. I really appreciated that she gave it voice.

There are also many details seemingly based on some real events from her own life. This makes the book all the more engaging and compelling. The conclusion of the book does even more to mirror real life as the main character goes on book tour, except you know July hasn’t gone on tour yet before she’s done writing. It’s just a very unique way to end a book.

Overall, I know some readers won’t be able to handle this book because it is a lot. July’s work usually is. But, some of us will, and I hope that those of us who do like this book will be able to find that group chat.

The First Bad Man by Miranda July

Leave a reply

An autographed copy of Miranda July’s The First Bad Man arrived in a cardboard box propped against my front door. I did not order it. I was coming back from yoga. It was any old day, and my mind very slowly bended around the idea that someone had bought something for me. I brought it inside and carefully opened it. Inside was a note from Z and the book. I immediately read the first few paragraphs, smiled to myself, and set it aside for later.

I’ve been reading a lot lately and savored this one, reading it slowly over the course of a few weeks. There are so many lines in the first few chapters that made me laugh, or made me reach for a pencil to draw a thin gray line under a phrase or beside a passage. Miranda July is an artist who makes me feel not alone in this world. It is absolutely novel how she can capture all the strange little quips and quirks that brains do.

July also writes about really disgusting, gross-out, putrid sorts of things, and the sheer quantity of that mid-way through The First Bad Man started to get me down. The suffocation the main character creates for herself, her home, her kitchen, her frying pan, her throat condition, the containers of urine, the breast punching—it all got to be too much, and I didn’t want to spend any more time in the book. But, of course, I did and in the last few chapters, I started underlining things again, and smiling as I read, and once again, felt that I was not alone in the world.

When I read a particularly delightful passage, I found myself turning to the title page and running my finger over her indecipherable magic marker signature. Who was this woman? Is she like me? Or, is she commenting on what it’s like to be me?