In the past, whenever people would hate on Lena Dunham for somewhat non-specific reasons  (if you have real reasons, that’s fine, and if your reasons are in the how-dare-she-show-her-not-so-perfect-body vein, eff you), I would point out that lena Dunham is not Hannah Horvath (her character on Girls). I figured you could find Hannah completely insufferable and still like Dunham. After reading Not That Kind of Girl, I’m less sure.

This book reads like the “rejected” pile from the Girls writers’ room. Narratives that would fit right in thematically, but are maybe a bit too disjointed or murky to work as a TV show, pop up here. Instead of being self-aware, it kind of feels hyper-aware and self-conscious, like Dunham is baring all and pointing out the weird before anyone else can. It just feels disingenuous and like she’s trying too hard.

Not That Kind of Girl was s quick read and by turns interesting and baffling. If you’re a fan of her work then you might enjoy it, but I wouldn’t put it on any “must read” lists.

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