Let's Pretend We Don't Exist 소설 & 이야기

Jenny Lawson's 'Let's Pretend This Never Happened' is like stumbling into a chaotic, hilarious family reunion where everyone’s waving taxidermied raccoons instead of photo albums. It’s a memoir, but not the polished, dignified kind—more like a series of absurdist vignettes held together by sheer force of personality. She recounts her bizarre rural Texas upbringing with a taxidermist father who gifted her a squirrel puppet named Stanley, her struggles with anxiety, and marriage mishaps that’d make anyone cringe-laugh. The chapter where she accidentally buys a giant metal chicken named Beyoncé? Peak Lawson.

What I adore is how she turns trauma into comedy gold without trivializing it. Her voice is unfiltered and self-deprecating, like your funniest friend after three glasses of wine. The book doesn’t follow a linear arc; it’s a wild ride through her brain, complete with footnotes that feel like whispered asides. If you’ve ever felt like an outsider in your own life, her stories weirdly validate that. Also, there’s a scene involving a dead opossum and a wedding dress that still lives rent-free in my head.