Nate got me this book as a joke for Christmas, so naturally I read the whole thing out of spite. And now, for my scathing review: this fucking sucked. Absolute fucking garbage from start to finish, I have never seen a more embarrassing nor unabashed display of nepotism and unfounded indignation in my entire goddamn life.
Very aptly titled “No One Asked For This,” Cazzie’s momentary bout of self-awareness stops there, as her pitifully adolescent style of essay writing reads self-conscious at best for the remaining 300+ pages of this atrocity. Her uninspired, anti-climactic internet-centered musings could perhaps be forgiven if her literary voice was even kind of funny or interesting, but sadly her mundane account of jobless rich girl millennialhood is never intriguing enough to keep this from being total horse shit.
Cazzie is 27, lives with her dad (critically acclaimed comedy writer Larry David, creator of Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm, she continuously reminds us), and is addicted to her phone. Because of this, we are supposed to feel really bad for her, and resonate with how caustic & uncaring she is towards her friends, family, and significant others alike. Oh, and also because she has anxiety and depression. You know, those mental illnesses no one talks about.
While taking good care to recite every one of her neuroses, moral failings & deep-seated flaws to her unwilling audience, Cazzie is simultaneously hell-bent on assuring us she *knows* how shameful & embarrassing her ineptitude at being a person is, and freely acknowledges the amount of privilege, love, & support she has received & benefitted from her entire life. Yet, in the very same breath, she insists her experiences with anxiety & depression are singular, and no one—NO ONE—could possibly understand the debilitating hypersensitivity she experiences every day. Not even her ex-boyfriend with BPD (yes, Pete Davidson) whose constant need for reassurance & emotional support lead her to end their relationship. No no, he can’t relate to her—that was something totally different! He was mean & crazy!
Aside from the piss-poor elementary style of writing & mind-numbingly boring content we are mercilessly subjected to, the real disgrace here—even more than her claims of getting “too full to fuck” or wishing there was a “third gender for non-idiots”—is her utter failure to showcase why she *is* worth caring about. Why the fuck *am* I reading this?! Cazzie reassures us time and time again that she knows she has no qualifications or reasonable justification to be writing ANYTHING (let alone a whole ass book) other than to garner more attention for herself outside of being the fail-daughter of a celebrity.
We are never for a moment to forget that this is an unoriginal, uninteresting person, who would not be given a moment of the public’s time or interest had she been born to a more conventional, non-famous family—and she knows it! And wants us to know she knows it! Which somehow makes her unrelenting self-involvement okay. This purported argument appears to be the thesis of this mess, that Cazzie is a person we should care about because she *knows* there’s no reason to care about her. Apparently, she thinks self-awareness is not only enough to absolve her of her complete lack of talent and/or positive qualities, but also reason enough to be the subject of… an entire book. An unsurprisingly ass-backwards conclusion for the world’s most unsympathetic narrator to draw.
Cazzie is an insurmountably difficult person to muster up sympathy for, as any acknowledgement of privilege or triviality quickly devolves into yet another irritating round of public self flagellation. “I know I’m selfish & that makes me hate myself more!! Wahhh!!” But there is no moment of absolution for our poor, tortured soliloquizer. Hating yourself does not absolve you from being a bad person, nor does it promise the inherent relatability of your material—you know, coming from a family of multi-millionaires & all.
Yes yes sure, there may be a kind of generational relatability to this introverted caricature who smokes weed every day and thinks self-proclaimed empaths are sooo embarrassing. But by trying to establish herself as the antithesis of the influencer culture she so boldly proclaims to hate, Cazzie commits to an alternate form of influencership, one that encapsulates a sect of internet culture far more prevalent in younger millennial & gen z social circles—doomposting. The internet is obsessed with emotional exhibitionism, and Cazzie is at least smart enough to exploit her own psychological demons (albeit, her very boring, twee, Olivia Rodrigo ass version), for perhaps an hour of attention from Bitch Media subscribers. Sure, she’s a bad writer and has nothing to say, but her moody, Victorian looks and nihilist perception of people who are beautiful & happy will surely resonate with the emo-cosplaying borings of the 2020s.
But did I mention she’s Larry David’s daughter & Pete Davidson’s ex? Yeah, she does too.