Quietly Hostile is straight-talking comic and essayist Samantha Irby's third collection of witty and relatable stories that immediately have you enraptured. I aimed to read the first few pages only, just to get a flavour of it, but, like any great book, before I knew it, I had been carried away on a rather swift and rather gusty wind of complete relatability, unapologetic stances and laugh-out-loud funny moments all tied neatly into a pretty bow with each page exuding realism, emotion and often biting, acerbic wit.
Drawing from as vast personal subjects as her favourite music, sexual trysts, ongoing health troubles, her complicated family dynamic and the inconvenience and stress of the coronavirus outbreak at the time, each essay is a self-contained gem and a snippet of Irby's life with each having a relatability and pure genuineness that is rarely found within the genre and that resonated with me through to the last page. The liberally interspersed sardonic, self-deprecating humour throughout is a joy to behold and had me racing through the pages which is quite unusual for an essay collection.
However, I wasn't interested in the essay about Sex & the City and going through what she would change about each episode because I don't like or care about the show and going through quite a few of Dave Matthews Band tracks similarly but stating why she likes them in a separate essay also lost my attention slightly after being engrossed up until those points, but, of course, this is all subjective. For me, there was a slight lull in those sections, but in an anthology of topical writings, such as this you, will naturally find some more compulsively readable than others.
That said, Irby is inimitable when she addresses topics of interest as she manages to strike the perfect balance between casual and amusing remarks, openness and honesty, emotion and apathy, light-heartedness and seriousness about her situations, feelings and thoughts. The most hilarious part of the collection in which I could barely contain my exuberant laughter was the essay entitled 'shit happens'. It had me cringing and snorting in equal measure, and in 'o brother, where art thou?' a few tears slipped down my cheek while she discussed the death of her mother which was poignant and emotional.
I can't wait to read more from such a strong, fearless and unique voice; Irby fills these pages with the thoughts many of us are thinking but are often too embarrassed or shy to espouse, and she has the balls to place them in a book! Highly recommended.