If you had asked me after I read the introduction to Moranthology by Caitlin Moran if I was going to enjoy the book, I would probably have said no. If you had asked me halfway through (when I was clearly enjoying it) if I liked Moran, I would have certainly said no. But if you ask me now, with the finished book sitting beside me, my answer would be a resounding yes. Simon was right (obviously): Caitlin Moran is basically Dickens, though probably a lot cooler than he ever was. I feel like Dickens would have never been asked to go to a sex club with Lady Gaga or be drinking buddies with one of the stars of Downton Abbey. Then again, I could be selling him short.
Living far, far beyond of the reach of The Times, I had never read any of Moran’s articles for the paper before. I have never read her bestseller How to Be a Woman, either (though not for lack of trying: I am currently number 26 on the library wait list). This was my introduction to her writing and what an introduction it is. Moran’s topics are diverse but she is just as capable of making the case for why Ghostbusters is the greatest movie of all time as she is of drawing on her own personal experiences to explain, simply and powerfully, what social benefits mean to the families that rely on them.
It took me a while to warm up to Moran, I will admit it. The first fifty pages were a little too “smart-aleck columnist with not a lot to say but nevertheless able to say it in a mildly amusing way” for my taste, with Moran chatting about her discovery of caffeine, her tardiness when going to interview the Prime Minister, and her misguided decision to join a charity marathon walk. But then she reminded me of the genius of Ghostbusters and I started to soften towards her personally because, really, how can you hate someone with such excellent taste? Immediately after that, there was a shockingly good interview with Keith Richards followed by two wonderfully light and enthusiastic reviews of Sherlock. After that, I was hooked.
I had the most fun reading the pop culture pieces, like Moran’s reviews of popular shows like Sherlock (which she adores) and Downton Abbey (which she does not). She is almost giddy over the absurdities of Downton Abbey:
Honestly, Downton is off its chanks. Sometimes it plays as if writer Julian Fellowes sits at his writing bureau – overlooking his extensive lands, including three rivers – sucking on a helium balloon, and giggling as he starts bashing at his typewriter. This is, after all, the drama where an evil, chain-smoking maid caused her mistress to miscarry by deliberately leaving lilac-scented soap on the floor, which she slipped on. Yeah, that’s right. She killed the unborn Earl of Downton with soap. This is a plot twist not even Dynasty, at its most gibbering, considered.
Moran proves that she is able to do more than just glibly gush over or deride television shows (talented at that as she is) with more lengthy feature articles and interviews. There is a piece about her visit to the Doctor Who set in Cardiff and another about her “Day with Paul McCartney. From the Beatles.” Her interviews with Keith Richards and Lady Gaga were surprisingly fascinating; I know next to nothing about either performer but Moran’s pieces made for compelling (if, in the case of Richards, slightly horrifying) reading. That is the mark of a good journalist: making the inaccessible accessible. Her obituaries for Elizabeth Taylor and Amy Winehouse are also both excellent.
There are plenty of personal, family-focused articles littered throughout the book, her children getting frequent mentions but little direct attention and each section beginning with a piece in which she harasses her husband. These can grate at times (especially the needy bedtime conversations with her husband – just let the man sleep!) but they give way to more enjoyable, relatable pieces on her hatred of a children’s television character, the necessity of alcohol in a parent’s life, and her refusal to make party bags.
While I enjoyed myself from page 50 onwards, it took a while for me to warm to Moran herself. She is opinionated and I loved that but her glibness, though thoroughly entertaining, can create a distance between her and the reader. When she finally got serious, it brought me up short. She mentions her large family and impoverished youth in Wolverhampton frequently but generally handles the subject humourously. It is not until she addresses proposed benefits cuts by the Coalition government that she discusses the sober realities of growing up poor:
What’s it like, being on benefits? Being on Disability Benefits – ‘I’ve had a hard day’s limping, to put that tea on the table!’ my dad would say, as we sat down to eat something based around a lot of potatoes, and ketchup. Well, mainly, you’re scared. You’re scared that the benefits will be frozen, or cut, or done away with completely. I don’t remember an age where I wasn’t scared our benefits would be taken away. It was an anxiety that felt like a physical presence, in my chest – a small, black, eyeless inset that hung off my ribs. Every Tory budget that announced a freezing of benefits – new means-testing, new grading – made the insect drill its face into the bone. They froze benefits for four years in a row, as I recall: ‘freezing’ being the news’s way of telling you that you – already poor – will be at the checkout, apologizing as you take jam and squash out of your bag, put them back on the shelves, and ask them to add it up again. Every week you fear that this is the week the pennies won’t stretch any further, and something will disappear: gas, food. Your home.
As much as I enjoy fun, chatty, informal Caitlin and am impressed by slightly serious Caitlin, resolutely serious Caitlin is formidable.
Despite a hesitant beginning, I loved this collection. It was a wonderfully thorough introduction to Moran – both as a person and as a writer – and the articles that touched on feminist topics have only made me more excited to read How to Be a Woman.
Okay, if both you and Simon loved it I must get on board. Her pop cultural commentary sounds hilarious — I completely agree with her about Downton Abbey, though I still tune in for a guilty pleasure.
As for Dickens, remember that he used to hang out with London prostitutes a lot. So he kinda was that cool…or creepy. Take your pick. 😉
Diana ! Having read just about all the Dicken’s biographies that are in in print and some that are not, I have yet to see anything to suggest your recollection has any veracity; “…..he used to hang out with London prostitutes a lot…” that’s very definitive and possibly you can look that up in your sources and enlighten us further!
As to Caitlin Moran I’m afraid there are hundreds of not thousands of writers who, given the opportunity she has to be heard/read on a regular basis would have equal if not better insights. She is Queen of a new generation of “smart-aleck columnists” who have really little new to say beyond what a good deal of people are already thinking.
Hurrah, a question about Dickens that even I, whom am generally not a Dickens fan, can answer (though only because it was mentioned in something I was reading about his contemporary, Elizabeth Gaskell). Dickens helped manage a home for homeless women (many former prostitutes) for some years; you can read about it in detail in Charles Dickens and the House of Fallen Women by Jenny Hartley.
I understand that Moran is not to everyone’s tastes but would say that if there really were so many writers who could give better value, someone should hire them. Journalism is a cut-throat business, if you’re not generating revenue there are always hundreds of writers eager to take your place. Moran has held hers for years, proving time and again her appeal and value to the paper. I would also argue that one of the main functions of a columnist is to give voice to what others are thinking, especially in the case of lifestyle columnists like Moran. People love reading about people like themselves, especially when the writing is both funny and observant. And this collection proves that Moran can go far, far beyond the light pop culture pieces that some readers think her limited to.
Yes, I phrased that in a very colloquial way — which was meant to be deliberately cheeky and humorous, not an academic assertion. Last I heard, blog comments didn’t require the formality of a scholarly journal. Perhaps I missed something?
Cheeky humour is always welcome here, Diana! Our other commentor isn’t a regular so hopefully she/he’s learned the lay of the land now and further discussions can be more productive and less critical towards individuals.
I love Downton Abbey but part of what I love is its sheer madness, which makes reading her articles on it all the more enjoyable.
As for ranking Dickens’ level of coolness, do prostitutes really trump Lady Gaga? I am going to vote no but I am ready for discussion!
I recognize Dickens’ work with homeless women (written of in various biographies) and that fact that some of them may have be “fallen” but Diana’s comment “he used to hang out with London prostitutes a lot” I’m afraid leaves and offers an slightly unsavoury alternative connotation (“hung-out”) that i felt is unjustified.
You bring up an excellent point, Claire. Lady Gaga is, indeed, difficult to trump. 😉
Love CM, read her columns, books and follow her on Twitter. The way she handles difficult issues mark her out as someone special. I think it speaks volumes about her that at 16 she was walking to the news agents to fax in her NME column, got by blagging her way in. CM was not given an opportunity, she created it.
Dickens (cool and creepy, I think) worked with ‘fallen women’ by offering them bona fide support, helping many of them to rehabilitate, odd considering he treated his own wife so badly.
I was so impressed by her handling of difficult subject matter in this collection. I did not always agree with her views but I admired how sensibly, how articulately she expressed them. And yes, the way she started her writing career is very impressive!
Lovely post, Claire, although you worried me at the beginning! I disagree with your commenter L Bowe above, I think (as you seem to too) that Moran brings a style and tone which other commentators can’t match – her opinions might not be unique, but when they’re about being late or watching TV then I’ll take style over substance! And that paves the way for very well written social stuff – the bits where she’s Dickens 😉
I’m amazed that there’s no waiting list for this one! Why haven’t the other library patrons caught on??
I was worried at the beginning, Simon! People writing about being late to meetings actually raises my blood pressure an alarming amount; since two of the early pieces focus on just that, it was not an encouraging start. Clearly, I got over my problems and then just had a wonderful time enjoying Moran’s writing and POV.
I do not know what is wrong with the other library patrons but, since I benefited from the lack of a hold list on this one, I am not complaining.
I read How to be a Woman a couple of weeks ago and loved it. Moran is a smart-aleck; but a funny, smart, sassy and good hearted one. She is just fun to spend time with! I have Moranthology on hold at the library and can’t wait ’til it’s in.
You’ve got the key to it: “She is just fun to spend time with!” I couldn’t agree more and I’m glad to know you enjoyed How to Be a Woman!
I had enjoyed How to be a Women immensely — and will now be seeing if my library will purchase Moranthology (to keep her other book company, of course!). 🙂
If you enjoyed How to Be a Woman (which I am so encouraged to hear you did) then I am sure you would be interested in these articles. Already liking Moran, what could be more fun than to hear her thoughts on a wide variety of useful and useless topics? I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you that your library buys a copy!
We don’t have this title at my library…yet, but I am on hold for How to Be a Woman and absolutely can not wait! Despite the fact she doesn’t care for Downton Abbey (whose bandwagon I’m not about to jump off of) I was in stitches reading your quote. I think we’re going to get on together!
Time to suggest a new purchase for the library, Darlene!
Claire, I am working my way through this. I didn’t like Ms. Moran at the beginning either, but she is growing on me. Her profile of Keith Richards was brilliant (although it didn’t make me want to read his book.)
The Keith Richards interview was a turning point for me, though, like you, it did not endear him to me or make me want to read his book (quite the reverse). I’ll be interested to hear what you think when you finish!
I haven’t read this one yet– I’m in the midst of How to Be a Woman, and her profane rants on the various -isms and her lack of fear at poking fun at herself have me recommending it over Bossypants or any Nora Ephron. I’m often second-handedly embarrassed on her account when she admits her own misadventures, but there’s no doubt she’s telling it just like it is, and when she sasses someone off for being a blockhead, I want to cheer every time.
I am very prone to second-hand embarrassment and there were definitely a few moments in this collection where I found it difficult to read for that reason! I am so happy to hear you’re enjoying How to Be a Woman – the more praise I hear, the more excited I am to read it.
I absolutely loved it, too. I want to read more of her columns but The Times site is firewalled. 😦
Yep, everything is behind the pay wall now. Still, for these columns alone I feel like a subscription would probably be good value.
[…] I searched this one out because of Claire’s intriguing posting about it on The Captive Reader recently. Click this link to read her take, and don’t forget to scroll down into the comments for an interesting side note onto the life of Charles Dickens. Here you go: Moranthology […]
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