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Summary
Summary
GRAMMY NOMINEE
Audie Award, Humor, 2015
Amy Poehler is hosting a dinner party and you're invited! Welcome to the audiobook edition of Amy Poehler's Yes Please. The guest list is star-studded with vocal appearances from Carol Burnett, Seth Meyers, Michael Schur, Patrick Stewart, Kathleen Turner, and even Amy's parents - Yes Please is the ultimate audiobook extravaganza.
Also included? A one-night-only live performance at Poehler's Upright Citizens Brigade Theater. Hear Amy read a chapter live in front of a young and attractive Los Angeles audience.
While listening to Yes Please, you'll laugh, you'll cry, and you'll become convinced that your phone is trying to kill you. Don't miss this collection of stories, thoughts, ideas, lists, and haikus from the mind of one of our most beloved entertainers. Offering Amy's thoughts on everything from her "too safe" childhood outside of Boston to her early days in New York City, her ideas about Hollywood and "the biz", the demon that looks back at all of us in the mirror, and her joy at being told she has a "face for wigs" - Yes Please is chock-full of words, and wisdom, to live by.
Reviews (5)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Poehler, the sharp and self-deprecating Emmy-winning star of TV's Parks and Recreation, takes a stab here at autobiography mixed with advice on sex, babies, and even divorce. She mines her 20s, back in the 1990s, when she cut her teeth in theater at ImprovOlympic in Chicago, and with the Upright Citizens Brigade in New York. Poehler struggled for many years in part-time gigs-including doing bits on Late Night with Conan O'Brien-and her humility and good work ethic shine through: for example, in the chapter "Don't Forget to Tip Your Waitress" (which was excerpted last year in the New Yorker), she recounts rather poignantly her various early jobs, such as working as a junior secretary in a podiatrist's office at age 16 and doing waitressing stints in Chicago and New York. Poehler gives ample credit to current and former colleagues, such as Matt Besser of UCB, Seth Meyers at SNL, and the cast of Parks and Recreation; elsewhere she offers some wonderful advice on apologies-both receiving and giving. Her memoir is as bewitching and chameleonlike as Poehler herself is when she appears onstage and on-screen. (Oct.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Guardian Review
Comedian and actor Amy Poehler spends several pages of her new book complaining about how difficult it is to write a book. "Authors pretend their stories were always shiny and perfect and just waiting to be written," she writes. "The truth is, writing is hard and boring and occasionally great but usually not." Her latter point is true; the former, not so much. Grumbling about writing is the main form of exercise engaged in by many authors (hey, it does get the pulse up). But, as gruelling as it is to write a book, it's still not entirely clear that is what Poehler has done. Yes Please arrives on printed pages sandwiched between cardboard covers and is currently lodged in the No 2 spot of the New York Times bestsellers list, so technically, yes: it is a book. However, it's the type of title the publishing business sometimes refers to as a "non-book", meaning that it has few of the qualities bookish people like to think of as exemplifying the form. It's not a coherent, well-knit piece of writing organised around a central narrative or argument. It cannot stand on its own. It's hard to imagine anyone making sense of parts of it, let alone wanting to read the whole thing, if they aren't already familiar with Poehler's work in film, TV and improv comedy. Whatever you call Yes Please it's meant for those people who, upon hearing Poehler's name, exclaim, "Oh, I love her!" Not that there aren't many reasons to love Poehler, who manages to be very funny and fundamentally decent at the same time, a vanishingly rare combination in her profession. As a cast member of Saturday Night Live and playing the role of Leslie Knope - a chipper, ambitious civil servant from the fictional small town of Pawnee, Iowa - in the terrific sitcom Parks and Recreation, she embodies the possibility of a humour based not on cruelty but on a rueful, shared acknowledgment of human folly. To judge by Yes Please, she's a generous person who knows how to have a good time and never stops trying to be a better person. I kinda love her, too. Who wouldn't? So perhaps it doesn't make much sense to review Yes Please as if it were a book like, say, a new Sarah Waters novel or Helen Macdonald's H Is for Hawk. It resembles a miscellany or scrapbook, some parts of which are pointed and clever, such as Poehler's chapter on divorce (she was formerly married to the actor Will Arnett, with whom she has two sons). Much of it, however, is pleasant but banal. Only a Parks and Rec fan, for example, will gobble up such revelations as the fact that Nick Offerman (who plays Leslie's boss, Ron Swanson), "is incredibly professional but also giggly. We both talk about how much we love our jobs at least five times a day. He adores his wife and takes nothing for granted." Yes Please also features mostly sweet vignettes from Poehler's childhood and early career, testimonials from her parents about how thrilled they were by her birth, a chapter titled "Things They Don't Tell You About the Biz" consisting of things you are likely to know already about the entertainment industry, and a refreshingly frank survey of Poehler's modest history of recreational drug use. She's got anecdotes about working with such talented friends as Seth Meyers and Tina Fey, all of them infused with a glow of nostalgia and cherished in-jokes. Anyone who's ever been lucky enough to work in a climate of exceptional creative freedom and camaraderie will know just what Poehler is talking about when she reels off giddily happy reminiscences of her years at Saturday Night Live and the innovative improv group the Upright Citizens Brigade. But (unlike poignancy or motherly love) esprit de corps is a feeling almost impossible to convey in prose. In contrast to Fey's Bossypants, whose humour derives in large part from Fey's unapologetic prickliness and her willingness to be unlikable, Yes Please is unable to make a virtue out of its author's lack of sharp edges. In person, Poehler can do this, and it's a remarkable achievement, but on the page she tends to wax bland. Does this matter, though? What does the intended reader of Yes Please really expect from it? There's so much inspirational, you-go-girl pep talking ("It takes years as a woman to unlearn what you have been taught to be sorry for. It takes years to find your voice and seize your real estate") on these pages that at times the book veers into self-help. The ever-conscientious Poehler recognises her responsibilities as a role model, whether she's advising her readers how to say no to unreasonable professional demands, how to treat your career ("like a bad boyfriend" - an excellent guideline) or how to write an authentic apology note. An undigested melange of advice and memoir, Yes Please has much in common with books such as Lena Dunham's Not That Kind of Girl. To buy them, and even to read them, is less a quest for a literary experience than it is a form of endorsement and affirmation. You like the parts you like, and you forgive the rest because what you're after is a piece of this public figure's aura, an opportunity to exercise and expand your allegiance to a persona that stands for a set of appealing beliefs, ideas and attitudes. These are books in the same way that concert T-shirts are clothing: less an end in themselves than a membership card. In essence, they're merch. This is not to say such books have no value; just owning them makes fans feel closer to the celebrities who write them. The theatre of celebrity persona making is, in its own way, a kind of hypermediated art. But come to a book like Yes Please with the desires and expectations of a reader, and you're almost certain to walk away disappointed. 288pp, Picador, pounds 16.99 To order Yes Please for pounds 13.59 go to bookshop.theguardian.com or call 0330 333 6846. - Laura Miller Caption: Captions: Amy Poehler as Leslie Knope in Parks and Recreation Yes Please also features mostly sweet vignettes from [Amy Poehler]'s childhood and early career, testimonials from her parents about how thrilled they were by her birth, a chapter titled "Things They Don't Tell You About the Biz" consisting of things you are likely to know already about the entertainment industry, and a refreshingly frank survey of Poehler's modest history of recreational drug use. She's got anecdotes about working with such talented friends as Seth Meyers and Tina Fey, all of them infused with a glow of nostalgia and cherished in-jokes. Anyone who's ever been lucky enough to work in a climate of exceptional creative freedom and camaraderie will know just what Poehler is talking about when she reels off giddily happy reminiscences of her years at Saturday Night Live and the innovative improv group the Upright Citizens Brigade. But (unlike poignancy or motherly love) esprit de corps is a feeling almost impossible to convey in prose. In contrast to Fey's Bossypants, whose humour derives in large part from Fey's unapologetic prickliness and her willingness to be unlikable, Yes Please is unable to make a virtue out of its author's lack of sharp edges. In person, Poehler can do this, and it's a remarkable achievement, but on the page she tends to wax bland. - Laura Miller.
Kirkus Review
The star of Parks and Recreation shares stories from her adolescence, her star-making tenure at Saturday Night Live and her abiding love of improvisation.In her debut book, comedian Poehler credits her approach to work to Carol Burnett, who was "funny and versatile and up for anything" and "a benevolent captain" on her eponymous variety show. The author's successful career proves that collaboration, good manners and gratitude are assets in both business and life. She has written a happy, angst-free memoir with stories told without regret or shame; rather, Poehler provides a series of lessons learned about achieving success through ambition and a resolute spirit. She affectionately recounts her perfect-seeming childhood and adolescence, including making lifelong friends, waiting tables, and living and working in the rough, pre-gentrified Greenwich Village. Poehler is especially grateful to her proud, comical parents and shares their wisdom with readers: "Make sure he's grateful to be with you," "Ask for what you want" and "Always overtip." With benevolent humor, she shares "Obligatory Drug Stories, or Lessons I Learned on Mushrooms" ("I've tried most drugs but avoided the BIG BAD ONES") and explores why ambivalence is an important component of success in a chapter titled "Treat Your Career Like a Bad Boyfriend." Along with Meredith Walker and Amy Miles, Poehler has created a Web series, "Smart Girls at the Party," to empower and celebrate women and girls who "chang[e] the world by being themselves." The author conveys the ethos of this project in pithy statements and reassurances sprinkled throughout the book in large typee.g., "If It's Not Funny, You Don't Have To Laugh" and "Everybody Is Scared Most Of The Time." This is not a treacly self-help book or spiritual guide but rather motivation from a hilarious and kindhearted champion. A wise and winningand politememoir and manifesto. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Booklist Review
*Starred Review* This book is heavy. Literally heavy, as in surprisingly hard to carry around. Perhaps that's because it's so firmly packed with wit and insight. And all that insight makes it figuratively heavy as well, though you might not notice because of all the wit. Fans of Poehler and her offbeat characters expect her to be outrageous (I'm looking at you, Amber, one-legged, gassy reality star), and there's some of that here, but mostly this is a sweet, funny memoir and a thoughtful look at what it takes to be a woman, a woman in comedy, a divorced woman with children, and, peering into the future, a 90-year-old woman who has plenty of advice to offer middle-aged Amy. In fact, there's lots of advice given here, and it's smart, the kind of stuff your favorite aunt would tell you, albeit, an aunt who once shot a moose on the Weekend Update set while rapping alongside Sarah Palin. She addresses how to treat your career (like a bad boyfriend); how not to torture other women about their life choices; ways to shut people up about your newly single status (Hey, lady, I don't want to fuck your husband). With so much to enjoy and absorb, you may even want to carry this book around, reread it, and underline pertinent-to-your-own-life sentences, which would be perfectly reasonable, except for the fact that it's so darn heavy.--Cooper, Ilene Copyright 2010 Booklist
New York Review of Books Review
AMY POEHLER ADMITS she wrote her new memoir while sleep-deprived. And it shows. But not in an entirely bad way. It helps that Poehler is upfront about her exhaustion, given that she is a 43-year-old sitcom star who shoots 12 hours of television a day while mothering two children under 7. Even when Poehler does sleep, she wakes herself up 20 to 30 times a night (according to a Beverly Hills sleep clinic) and, apparently, snores "like a dragon." She freely allows that "Yes Please" is a "spontaneous overflow in the middle of chaos, not tranquillity," a thing written on subways and planes, "ugly and in pieces." And in the end, no apologies. She finished the job. Perfection is a luxury. As improv's godfather Del Close used to say: "Don't think." "Get out of your head," Poehler writes. "Stop planning and just go." As Poehler's multitasking did not leave time for her to give her book a cultural context, let's offer one (as Seth Meyers, who contributes a short chapter, says, "so that Amy can take a break"). Starting from the 1950s, a quick lineage of women in comedy might include Lucille Ball, Phyllis Diller, Carol Burnett, Joan Rivers, Lily Tomlin, Gilda Radner, Whoopi Goldberg and 1990s stand-ups-turned-sitcom-stars such as Roseanne Barr, Brett Butler and Margaret Cho. The next wave of funny women landed around 2000, when Tina Fey became a head writer for "Saturday Night Live" and the cast featured Rachel Dratch, Ana Gasteyer, Cheri Oteri, Maya Rudolph and Poehler. Beyond "S.N.L.," today's female comedy stars include Ellen DeGeneres, Kathy Griffin, Chelsea Handler, Mindy Kaling and Sarah Silverman-all of whom have written memoirs. There are enough comedian memoirs published, in short, that we can classify them in two genres. The late, great Joan Rivers is Old School. In "I Hate Everyone ... Starting With Me," she mocks celebrities, celebrates bad attitudes and extols plastic surgery. New School is Tina Fey's fearsomely witty and polished "Bossypants," a wry, self-deprecating account of a hugely successful career that offers smart, "Lean In"-worthy advice and glosses over the 30-pound weight loss that was required for her to become a "S.N.L." regular. (Ours is the era of the surprisingly harnisch Lome Michaels.) As one can deduce by its relatively anodyne title (inspired by the "Yes, and..." maxims of improv), "Yes Please" is New School. Even fans of the genre, the enjoyment of which-we can good-naturedly admit-depends more on personality than text, may experience a little disappointment. Poehler fans devastated by her divorce from Will Arnett get no answers-it's addressed in one paragraph. Woe also to those who crave showbiz gossip: From Bono to Prince, "S.N.L." guest stars are depicted as friendly and courteous. The only amusing dish is on Betty White, whose end-of-the-workday regimen is to fix herself "a vodka on the rocks and eat a cold hot dog." But even that grace note is telling, because in the end, Poehler's real interest is in how comedians work, rather than how they don't (think of Brett Butler going broke and moving to a house in Georgia with 15 pets). As such, the detailed anecdotes Poehler does share serve to illuminate a deeply influential era in American comedy and culture. Her early improv group, the Upright Citizens Brigade, began, interestingly, less as a Harvard Lampoon-style comedy factory than as an anarchic performance art troupe. In 1990s Chicago, U.C.B.-ers did everything from consume Thanksgiving dinners on street corners to performing a sketch declaring an end to baseball at the entrance to Wrigley Field. Poehler's subsequent tenure on "S.N.L." began right before 9/11, and reached a political apex in 2008 with Poehler and "comedy wife" Fey's zeitgeist-defining act as Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin. Her chapter on awards, however, may be the most personally revealing. Whenever Poehler is nominated, she'll invite all her female competitors to help her transform an anxious evening into a joyous group prank (e.g., each nominee, upon hearing her name, automatically goes to the stage as though she has won). It's an enlightening look into the emotional character of a craft. Just as the documentary "Twenty Feet From Stardom" depicts backup singers anxious about stepping into the spotlight, sketch improvisers appreciate-even crave-the group. In her next decade, Poehler might have a few extra minutes to further burnish her more personally reflective humor. (When her 6-year-old son asks, "Did you once have a penis and break it?," she contemplates replying with "a joke that would screw him up for life": "Yes, my son. Your mother once had a penis, but it broke because you didn't love her enough.") But that will be then. Where is Poehler now, at "pre-peri-middle-aged"? "I'm at the point in my life now where delivering a B-minus performance on a televised show with some of my comedy heroes doesn't ruin my week." Is that depressing, she wonders? Readers may think not, but no matter, the job, and day, is done. A vodka and cold hot dog beckon. Snoring like a dragon, until tomorrow's 5 a.m. call at least, Poehler deserves a good night's sleep. Poehler's real interest is in how comedians work, rather than how they don't. SANDRA TSING LOH is the author of "The Madwoman in the Volvo: My Year of Raging Hormones."
