Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life

 

Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life by Amy Krouse Rosenthal

Nonfiction - Memoir

2005

Finished on November 29, 2025

Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

How do you conjure a life? Give the truest account of what you saw, felt, learned, loved, strived for? For Amy Krouse Rosenthal, the surprising answer came in the form of an encyclopedia. In Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life  she has ingeniously adapted this centuries-old format for conveying knowledge into a poignant, wise, often funny, fully realized memoir.

 

Using mostly short entries organized from A to Z, many of which are cross-referenced, Rosenthal captures in wonderful and episodic detail the moments, observations, and emotions that comprise a contemporary life. Start anywhere—preferably at the beginning—and see how one young woman’s alphabetized existence can open up and define the world in new and unexpected ways.

 

An ordinary life, perhaps, but an extraordinary book.

I've never read anything like this book! Not only is it comprised of alphabetical entries about everything under the sun, but even the copyright page, inside cover flaps, and back cover blurbs are unique and entertaining.

From the copyright page:

Not responsible for lost or stolen property.

Not responsible for the weather, the moon, or scalding nature of soup.

Not responsible for the extra s some people add to the word occasion.

Not responsible for the short, edible window between

the banana is not ripe enough and the banana is rotten.

About this book:

I am not writing a memoir (I have no story); I am not writing an autobiography (for who really cares). I am writing a personal encyclopedia, a thorough documentation of an ordinary life in the end of the twentieth century/beginning of the twenty-first. And in fact, while I didn't know it then, I started this encyclopedia nearly two years ago, when I began gathering my columns/writings and putting them in alphabetical order. And I began it even before that, when I was busy making charts and tables for no apparent reason. And I began it even before that...

Allotting Enough Time to Make Flight:

I always work backward. Okay, the flight leaves at 11:15, so I should be at the airport by 9:15. That means I should leave the house at 8:30--no, play it safe, could be a lot of traffic, say 8:15. That means I need to get up at 7:30; that gives me 45 minutes to get ready and finish any last minute packing. As soon as I've come to this conclusion, I'll immediately repeat the whole internal dialogue-calculations, see if I come up with the same time estimates. I'll do this at least a couple more times the day before I leave, on of the times being that night when I set my alarm clock.

Broker:

It is weird and unsettling that a person who is hired to handle your money, make wise decisions about it, and, ostensibly, keep you from losing it is called a broker. 

Brother:

My brother, who grew up with three sisters, was I won't say how many years old when he finally realized that he did not have to wrap the towel around his chest when he came out of the shower. 

Dishwasher:

It is very difficult to try to load someone else's dishwasher; everyone has their own method. Glasses stacked in this row, bowls this way, silverware facing up, down--it's a highly persona thing. The few times someone outside the family has loaded ours, I opened it up and am disoriented, dismayed even, to find plates in the wrong slots, bowls on the top (the top?!), and even a skillet crammed in there. It's just too counter-productive and unsettling, even though it is nice of them to try to help.

Improvisation at Concerts:

I go to a concert, a band I really love. The band plays the first few bars of my absolutely favorite song, but then... what's that? They're altering it, improvising. The band thinks this is refreshing and artful, a welcome deviation, a prize for attending. But I am irked and disappointed they didn't play it just as I've enjoyed it on the CD all these years.

Potato Chips: 

When I eat potato chips, particularly the crunchy kettle kind, I find myself looking through the bag for the good chips. Somehow a good chip is one that is extra thick looking, and curled onto itself or folded, as opposed to straight and flat. It is a treat, a victory, to find a really good chip and pluck it from the bag. The thinner, straight, or broken ones aren't nearly as pleasing.

Some entries had me nodding my head in agreement and others had me laughing out loud. This is not a book to read straight through in a couple of sittings. I enjoyed reading several pages here and there between a few other books. 

Sadly, Amy Krouse Rosenthal passed away of ovarian cancer in 2017. Her husband, Jason Rosenthal, has written a book called My Wife Said You May Want to Marry Me: A Memoir. 

Highly Recommend