Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang review

Grand Central Publishing, March 2010

By Siera Cerny
Published: March 21st, 2010 | 10:35pm

Due to the racy nature of her first two books (My Horizontal Life and Are You There, Vodka? It’s Me, Chelsea) and her talk show, Chelsea Lately, Chelsea Handler's critics take her for a sex-obsessed drunk who gets off on talking shit about celebrities. As someone who fully supports her support all things taboo, underrated, and downright weird, I have no problem with Handler's antics. But there is something more to the girl behind the bottle of Belvedere. As a writer, her voice is so distinct I sometimes forget I’m reading, and feel as though she’s in the same room talking directly to me. And her torrid tales make the world seem a bit more amusing and bearable.

Surprisingly, her new book, Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang (Grand Central) is more about family than anything else. Sure, there's sex, alcohol, some drugs, parties, lots of jokes, and social commentary, but the stories center around the people in her life that matter most. Despite the notoriety, she's a popular girl these days, and rightfully so—at her core, Handler is motivated by a sort of twisted compassion. For instance, witness the thought process involved when she invites a man named Sylvan (Handler's personal driver when she travels to New York) on a Carribbean vacation:

"The truth of the matter was this: I wanted Sylvan to experience the kind of vacation that in recent years I had become lucky enough to afford. Of course penetration was at the forefront of my mind, but I’ve learned through previous experiences that while trying to get someone else penetrated is ultimately an altruistic endeavor, it can be exhausting and, more often than not, fruitless."

Sure, there are flub-ups (such as an inconsistency regarding time in chapter three), and her winding anecdotes get a little repetitive at times. But that is yet another beautiful thing about Handler. We don’t read her stories looking for perfection. Instead, we want entertainment and escape, and even insight. Handler has a way of shedding light on what it's like to come to terms with, and even love, life's imperfections, as in this thoughtful passage:

" 'Chunk' is the nickname I give to anyone I love who I also want to squeeze. I called my mom 'Chunk,' and she called me 'Chunky' when we would snuggle in bed together and I would squeeze her one boob. She had a mastectomy when I was nine and never bothered to get reconstructive surgery, so on one side she had a rice pack that she put in her bra every morning, and on the other side was a giant booby."

Whether writing about her offbeat parents, masturbation, or Cabbage Patch dolls, Handler delivers yet another witty and giggle-worthy memoir. Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang is rife with sprinklings of the author's take on truth and humanity, love and loss, and of course, all the debauchery and practical jokes that make life a little easier to handle.