Amy Poehler

Watching old episodes of Parks and Recreation is a slightly strange experience. In the first season, Leslie Knope is broadly drawn and more closely resembles The Office’s Michael Scott than what fans know her to be today. But Leslie, played by Amy Poehler, was retooled in the second season, becoming an overly competent, hardworking government employee who is a good friend and brings out the best in everyone around her. 

After reading Yes Please, Poehler’s debut book, the motivation behind this transition is more evident. In the show’s second season, Leslie became someone more familiar to everyone involved with the show, someone much closer to Poehler herself.

Yes Please is a hodgepodge of scattered essays, advice and memories brimming with Poehler’s unmatched creativity. The book features her childhood writings, an acrostic poem for fellow actress and writer Tina Fey (in a chapter called “Partner in Crime”) and contributions from her former SNL Weekend Update co-anchor Seth Meyers and Parks and Recreation creator Mike Schur. The collective results are thoroughly impressive. 

Poehler begins with her childhood growing up in a lower-middle class family in Burlington, Massachusetts. She frequently is upfront about the advantages she has been given in life, which, like the entirety of Yes Please, comes off as refreshingly honest. 

We follow her everywhere from Chicago and the Upright Citizens Brigade, to her celebrity encounters on the set of Saturday Night Live. Poehler discusses her pregnancy frustrations and writes tributes to each of her Parks and Recreation cast members. She covers a lot of ground, and the disorganized nature of the writings reflects the messiness of life Poehler so often discusses.

And, big surprise: Yes Please is deeply funny, often in unexpected ways. Poehler writes a series of genius haikus about plastic surgery (“We know it’s Botox/And not your vegan diet/Nice try, Margaret”). She recounts screaming an obscenity at a rude man on a plane. Her final chapter is entitled “The Robots Will Kill Us All: A Conclusion.” 

What’s more surprising is the intimacy in Yes Please. The book has the same feel as her YouTube channel, Smart Girls at the Party. 

Like her videos, the book undeniably is geared toward women, but Poehler’s advice and helpful morsels of knowledge are universal. She may not be a self-help guru, but Poehler is effective in elegantly offering guidance on topics ranging from career goals (“treat your career like a bad boyfriend”) to body image to her “world-famous sex advice.” Words are Poehler’s deadliest weapons. And just as easily as Poehler can make your eyes water from laughter, she can inspire you to be a better version of yourself.  

If Poehler needs to improve in one area, it’s bragging (i.e. she can do more of it). Even in a chapter describing a visit to Haiti with the Worldwide Orphans Foundation, she is careful about how she presents herself. But then again, that chapter ends up being thoroughly moving and beautiful.

Yes Please is a truly successful feat on Poehler’s part, and it reveals a self-awareness not often seen in Hollywood. I always try to get my hands on comedians’ books because if a comedian truly is good, then he or she tends to have a comprehensive understanding of who they are and what makes people tick. This makes the funny musings more hilarious and the deeper thoughts more formidable. Poehler manages both humor and heart in Yes Please, all while letting us in on her secret inner workings.   

Leslie Knope always seemed as though she’d make for the best friend in the world, but that’s no longer the case. Poehler outdoes her because in Yes Please she treats the reader as though  he or she was Poehler’s closest comrade. Or Tina Fey.