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📚 I finished Without Feathers By Woody Allen last week. ​ To be sure, I have rarely been so self-conscious reading a book in public. The author’s name written in bright, bold​ text on the front cover made me blush every time. My only solace was that it hopefully made me a little immune to accusations of being a “performative male,” as no one could legitimately say that I was attempting to appeal to the female gaze.

There is no shortage of ​wit in Without Feathers. Woody Allen flourishes his imagination with remarkable mastery on every page, pulling off incredibly far-fetched premises and pitching relentless one-liners that were impossible to predict or recreate. I’ve only recently began reading humor books and essays, but Allen’s particular style has struck me as the most mature in the genre. By this, I mean the writing itself is substantial, stylish, and contains an element of musicality that I have not found in even my favorite humor authors. There is a type of craftmanship in his work which I am very grateful to have been exposed to.

That being said, Without Feathers did not manage to inspire me, even if it gave me a type of writing to potentially aspire to. ​Something about the stories, impressively written as they may be, left me feeling… well, “icky.” There is an underlying cynicism in most of his tales that manage to taint and work against the laughter he is cultivating. I normally enjoy when comedians are equal opportunity offenders and show no partiality in who they take the mick out of. But Woody’s humor seemed to take a different approach; not making fun of everyone because we are equals, but as somehow accusing everything of being beneath him. I don’t need everything to be optimistic or upbeat–even my humor stories — but as a reader who is trying to be objective (and even trying to divorce my judgment of the book from the man himself), I can only half recommend this book on account of this admittedly ambiguous bad taste it leaves in my mouth. Enjoyable in the moment? Yes. Expertly done? Certainly. But I was happy to move on to my next read and was looking forward to a nice palate cleanser. I may, in time, return to another one of his books, but I am certainly in no rush to do so.