Carrie Brownstein’s memoir stunning

Anna Hupp, Staff Writer

Outsiders with computers can see Carrie Brownstein’s life events, but they don’t know why any of them happened. Brownstein sang as part of the legendary indie-punk trio Sleater-Kinney from 1994 to 2005. Then she quit, and a few years later wrote and co-starred the show “Portlandia,” a light series of sketches about Portland’s adamantly hippie culture.  In 2014, Sleater-Kinney reunited, and their new songs were sung with the same grappling passion as their earlier anthems. (The band is also touring currently.)

Why did Brownstein quit Sleater-Kinney? Why did the band reunite?

The answers lie within Brownstein’s stunningly-written memoir, a story about a girl who couldn’t fill up her loneliness and despair even with the music that saved her.

“Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl” begins with Brownstein’s relationship, or lack thereof, with her parents. Her mother was anorexic; her father was secretly gay. According to Brownstein, he felt guilty about his secret and tried to hide it from the world. Because of this, he was a remote father. Brownstein describes her childhood home as distant and detached. She felt like she was drifting and wanted a home, a sense of belonging.

Part two of the book chronicles Brownstein’s fumbling moves forward to the formation of Sleater-Kinney, and then tells the story of the band itself. Sleater-Kinney had problems, but it was a solid place to belong in a way Brownstein had never experienced before.

But even the music that welcomed her wasn’t enough to fill Brownstein’s loneliness. There was something in her she couldn’t escape. Brownstein was a tight, messy knot of two wires: depression and anxiety.

The end of the book is a little hard to understand. It leaves the reader with a vague sense of closure because Brownstein finally gives up on the life she couldn’t handle, even though she still loves rock ‘n’ roll. There is sadness in Brownstein’s decision, but also freedom.

“Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl” opens a door into Brownstein’s psyche. It is painfully intimate, though recorded almost scientifically, like Brownstein is describing something that happened a long time ago that she doesn’t quite want to remember but must recount. The reader can feel both Brownstein’s precision and artistry in every line.

Brownstein’s account is powerful and penetrating. It is what combines a strange, distinct personality into a cohesive, tragic whole.