A feat of radical self-disclosure, Joy makes frank, funny art out of Too Much Information, covering sex, love, abuse, trauma, motherhood, and music with a let-it-blurt Gen X spirit. Joy notes that her favorite album is Fiona Apple’s brilliant When the Pawn …, whose full title runs over 40 words long, and Joy’s debut echoes that defiant sprawl, sharing Apple’s nervy insistence upon sharing her truth, her way. Hefty chapters, each titled with a M, explore “Manipulation,” “Marriage,” and the centerpiece “Men & Sex.” There, Joy divulges with brisk storytelling and jolting detail the highlights, lowlights, and horrors of “the dumpster fire of my sexual history,” all building to this heartbreaker of a punchline: “The sad fact is I can count on one hand [the partners] who actually got me off.”
Surveying her own life from a healthier, happier maturity, Joy is unsparing when it comes to sharing trials she has endured—rape, addiction, partner violence—and choices she has made. But even when addressing the weightiest topics, like attending a retreat for mothers who have had an abortion, her sharp-elbowed insights, buoyant dark humor, and commitment to empathy and acceptance all cast a spell—reading this is like a long boozy monologue from a funny friend, right down to asides recommending songs (over 700, in footnotes), gushing about Janet Jackson and the trail-blazing magazine Jane, and always cracking jokes.
The too-muchness of it all extends to the word count—this book goes on for days, and the topical chapter structure doesn’t allow for narrative momentum. That’s part of the point, though, as Joy charts her own course in all things. Her taste for lists (including a rundown of years of Halloween costumes, her favorite oldies, what she dislikes about her body, and more) is as engaging as her zeal for truth-telling, and her stories are often moving, especially on the subjects of friends, her children, and accepting others for who they are.
Takeaway: Frank, funny epic-length memoir of sex, motherhood, music, and taking control.
Comparable Titles: Elizabeth Wurtzel; Jerry Stahl’s Permanent Midnight.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
2024-08-08
Civil engineering administrator Joy tells her story of partying and parenting with gritty honesty and humor.
This no-holds-barred memoir offers radical candor as it encompasses everything from the Virginia-born author’s childhood dreams and preoccupations to her acceptance of middle age. In thematically organized chapters, Joy recounts how she went from being a strong-minded, hard-partying girl to a single mother working for engineering firms. Her story is littered with references to her favorite songs (the music that “made” her, as the book’s subtitle note), whose titles appear, often with additional details, in regular footnotes throughout the text. Joy spent her teen years in Virginia Beach in the 1990s, drinking, taking drugs, and clubbing with close friends. Her stories of that time are mostly fun and fluffy, but she also relates how her alcohol use eventually led to increasingly unsatisfying and risky sexual encounters. The memoir details how Joy gradually moved on from this time in her life, becoming a young mother, navigating a toxic marriage and divorce, and starts a career in administrative positions at engineering firms. Joy’s voice is brassy and confessional throughout, and the book reads like an extended monologue from a braver and wilder best friend: “It doesn’t get more authentic than this, my friends,” she writes early on. The frank, often harrowing detail with which she describes sexual acts are compelling, as is her account of her anger at being exploited and treated like a disposable object by men. She also compellingly discusses her experiences with sexual assault. These stories will likely strike a chord with many female readers. As the book addresses other topics, such as exercise and office jobs, the author’s voice feels less urgent, and a more chronological structure might have helped to keep the pacing consistent. Still, Joy’s prodigious storytelling skills often shine through.
A remembrance that sometimes meanders but offers great warmth and insight.
