One Day We'll All Be Dead and None of This Will Matter by Scaachi Koul
A book of personal essays is something that is very particular, but if executed well can be something universal. It is the charge of the essayist to tell stories that are interesting and engaging that the reader cares about even if they are about someone the reader doesn’t really know. At the same time the writer must make sure that the experience of reading them will trigger something that resonates with and allows the reader to identify with the writer too.
It’s a hard trick to pull off, but when they work they are a marvelous read. Nora Ephron comes to mind as a superb practitioner of the art (who among us hasn't felt bad about our necks at some point). More recently it’s become the preferred method for a rash of famous people to write a book – Lena Dunham, Tina Fey, Mindy Kaling, Anna Kendrick, Amy Poehler etc. These books are a way for fans to get some insight or understanding of their favorite famous people, but doesn’t really allow for any identification with them.
So how about someone not so famous? This is the space that Scaachi Koul has entered with her debut book One Day We’ll All Be Dead and None of This Will Matter. A popular culture writer at Buzzfeed, Koul is Canadian and Indian, her parents immigrated to Calgary and she grew up in a mostly white suburb. She is funny. She is a millennial. So there’s a lot about her that is very particular. I’ll get to that part later.
There’s plenty that is universal. Koul writes in a breezy, direct style that is relatable even if you are not one of the particular things she is. Her fear of flying is real and visceral and when she tells you “Planes are inherently unnatural; your body isn’t supposed to be launched into the sky, and few people comprehend the science that keeps them from tumbling in the ocean” she has a point.
She also writes about our relationship to clothing and the faith we have “in its ability to transform you into something or someone better” in a way that rings true but I haven’t really thought about before. Clothes maketh the man might have been written about men, but it is women’s relationship with clothes that consumes us. Her hilarious description of trying an a black and white skirt that was “perfect” but turns out not to be is great, but so is her realization that clothes are, indeed, ephemeral “but your insecurities, the ones that make you go hunting for something to make you feel better, to love yourself more, to give you a renewed sense of self or great esprit – don’t you even worry. Those will last you a lifetime.”
It is on some of the millennial issues of our time, notably social media and date rape that Koul provides the particular. Her harrowing description of being harassed on social media following her call for more diversity in the writers she was looking for, is sobering, and a case study in the ugly side of a technology that has allowed us to communicate so much more freely, the anonymity of the screen, alas, proving too much for the angels of our better nature. The abuse and death threats that she received is all too familiar for so many women who dare to have an opinion on the internet.
But unlike many, she doesn’t blame the technology itself, perhaps because she is of the generation that has lived with it so integrally. What the technology has allowed is the amplification of human behavior that didn’t spontaneously spring up with the advent of twitter. As she says, “no one learns how to be mean at twenty-five. No one actually becomes a hardline racist in their thirties. These are beliefs and behaviors we inherit from our bloodlines, from the people who raised us and the internet is just another way to put those beliefs to work.”
Technology is just a mechanism for humans, not something apart from it – “all things built by humans descend into the same pitfalls: loathing, vitriol, malicious intent…Avoiding human nature at its most pure and even at its worst is pointless. No one deserves your attention, but no one has earned your withdrawal.” Her hiatus from twitter lasted two weeks.
Koul’s examination of the extra burden placed on women who drink is profound. The act of drinking socially for women is fraught with danger. A sexual assault after both parties are drinking is not seen as an assault but just a natural outcome of “party” culture. “It’s normal for men to watch you when you enter a bar, to watch what you’re drinking, what you’re doing, in an attempt to get closer to you.” After her own experience of being “roofied” Koul lays out the cautious way women must act in a seemingly innocent social setting because it’s always, it seems the girls fault for drinking not the guys fault for assaulting.
As I mentioned, Koul is the daughter of Indian immigrants and her hilarious, perceptive, joyous, conflicted and painful recounting of that identity is delightful. Any desi (someone with South Asian heritage) will identify with the endless weddings; the irrationally huge extended families where everyone is an aunty or a cousin whether by blood or not; the obsession with fair skin; the secret dating; the feeling of “otherness” where nowhere really feels like home. But even if you are not a desi, these stories will make you laugh out loud and think about your own relationship to family and your particular heritage.
Her feelings for her parents maybe particular, but their sentiment is universal. She is fiercely close to her parents but suffers the complexity of that relationship too. Of her father she says “we can remember that we are inextricably sewn together the way children are with their parents, no matter his mood or my rebellion, and life will creep forward the way it always has.” And of mom, “nothing bad can happen to you if you’re with your mom. Your mom can stop a bullet from lodging in your heart. She can prop you up when you can’t. Your mom is your blood and bone before your body even knows how to make any.”
The particular and the universal, a tough balance to strike, but Koul’s attempt in this book is worthy of your time.
BEFORE YOU READ:
Length: 241 pages
Genre: Humor, Essays, Memoir
Themes; family, immigrant experience, sexism, shopping,
Commitment: A quick read that feels fun but has profound observations
buy here and support this site and the your indie bookstore
