Hello! I’m Tito Aznar for the HPPR Radio Readers Book Club’s 2025 Spring Read. Allie Brosh’s Hyperbole and a Half is a book that thrives on failure: funny and painfully relatable failure. Whether it’s failing at adulthood, failing at self-improvement, or failing at simply understanding why she is the way she is, Brosh embraces her imperfections in a hilarious and deeply honest way. Throughout the book, Brosh shows us failure as a motif that drives the humor, self-reflection, and the relatability of her storytelling.
One of the most memorable examples of this motif is her story about trying to be a responsible adult. In “This Is Why I’ll Never Be an Adult,” Brosh outlines the grand, ambitious plans she often makes for herself, such as getting her life together, being productive, or becoming the ideal version of herself. However, all of this crashes down in a spectacular display of procrastination and self-sabotage.
The cycle she describes is painfully familiar: sudden bursts of motivation, elaborate to-do lists, and then the inevitable collapse into Netflix binges, snacks, and existential dread. This exaggerated--but also very real--depiction of failure captures the universal struggle of trying to be functional while battling the reality of being human.
Brosh’s book laughs at failure and imperfections, but it also provides us with an examination of it. Her discussions of mental health, particularly in “Depression Part One” and “Part Two,” highlight another side of imperfection: the feeling of being fundamentally broken. Unlike the lighter, more humorous depictions of failure in other stories, these sections show how imperfection can be isolating and terrifying. She describes a version of failure that isn’t funny at all when she addresses the failure to feel anything, the failure to engage with life, the failure to be “normal.” Yet even in these moments, Brosh manages to infuse her storytelling with humor and absurdity, using her signature stick-figure drawings and dry humor to make something as serious as depression feel both accessible and, in its own way, validating.
Another way failure manifests in Hyperbole and a Half is through Brosh’s interactions with her dogs. Her dogs, particularly the “simple dog,” are walking embodiments of failure, constantly misunderstanding the world, making terrible decisions, and reacting in ways that may defy logic. Yet, rather than viewing them with frustration, Brosh treats their failures with a kind of affectionate exasperation, something she extends to herself as well. There’s an implicit message here: failure is part of existence, and sometimes, it’s just downright funny. The way Brosh describes her dogs’ antics--like trying to train a dog who doesn’t understand why it should listen--mirrors the way she often sees herself: well-meaning but doomed to fall short in bizarre and unexpected ways.
Hyperbole and a Half doesn’t highlight failure for the sake of comedy alone; it acknowledges the emotional weight behind it. The motif of imperfection is never about glorifying failure. It’s about accepting it, and there’s a certain kind of liberation in Brosh’s approach. She takes the pressure off perfection and instead shows that being imperfect is not the end of the world.
In a culture that often emphasizes success, self-improvement, and the constant push to be better, Hyperbole and a Half stands out as a refreshingly honest look at what it means to fail and to still keep going. Brosh’s humor and self-awareness make it clear that imperfection isn’t something we should be ashamed of; it’s something we should laugh at, learn from, and-- sometimes--just accept. Failure isn’t just inevitable; it’s universal. In Brosh’s world, that’s not a bad thing; it’s part of the absurd, unpredictable, and often hilarious experience of being alive.
I’m Tito Aznar for the HPPR Radio Readers Book Club.
