Margaret Eby
September 25, 2014 2:40 pm

Lena Dunham’s memoir, Not That Kind of Girl, isn’t officially out until next week, but the reviews are in, and they’re REALLY good. Not that it’s surprising: the book was written by someone with a unique and interesting voice, who has thoroughly shown off her writing chops both onscreen and in the pages of The New Yorker. Dunham is well-acknowledged as a talented writer, and her book, so far, is living up to expectations.

Perhaps this isn’t hard to believe about the much-anticipated memoir. Given the tone of her amazing series of advice videos promoting the book, good things (aka reviews) were surely to come. Rumors of the book have been circulating for months, and we know for fact that in it, she discusses everything from feminist icon Helen Gurley Brown to the long, painful process of reckoning with yourself that is early adulthood. At the annual Book Expo America this year, Dunham read aloud a section from her book, in which she talked about wearing inappropriate clothing to the Vatican and hoping that her memoir might “prevent you from having the kind of sex where you feel you must keep your sneakers on in case you want to run away during the act.” Basically, all great things.

But celebrity memoirs are an odd species, usually greeted in reviews with that half-heartedly enthusiastic “this might actually be good!” We expect more out of them than they tend to deliver. Not so with Dunham’s memoir. From Roxane Gay’s review in Time:

A comparison to Nora Ephron is nothing to sneeze at for an author. Then there is the inevitable question about how close Dunham is to her characters, which the New York Times concludes is: not that much. Their review is also glowing:

Ditto the assessement from The Washington Post‘s critic, who liked the book so much she was sad it ended.

Yep. Those are some pretty good reviews. If you don’t mind, we’ll just be here waiting for the official release date next Tuesday with bated breath.

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