In her seminal 1967 essay “Goodbye to All That,” Joan Didion writes of her former self, a 20-year-old naif arriving in New York City for the first time: “Was anyone ever so young?”

Lena Dunham – an avowed Didion stan – should have used that line as the title of her new book, an account of the messy process of making Girls, the HBO show she created, scripted, directed and starred in. Despite her inexperience and juvenile blunders Dunham, at age 25, produced a hit. Why, then, call her memoir Famesick? Because, she contends, the most important story she has to tell is how her body turned on her “right in sync with the public.”

It’s true that Dunham has been the object of sustained fascination since Girls launched in 2012. Hailed as a comic genius both as writer and actor, she was also quickly derided as a privileged, narcissistic over-sharer, to say nothing of the misogynistic scorn heaped upon her for her looks and weight. It’s been a lot to contend with.

Still, going by her new book – beautifully written, often touching, and sometimes laugh-out-loud funny – both her fans and her haters are on to something. Not only is Dunham a marvel, keenly observant and terrifically fluent, she’s her own worst enemy, prone to impulsive pronouncements and dislikable behavior. At age 40, she seems unwilling, or incapable, of really growing up. (Either way, she definitely wants a sick note.)

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But does Dunham’s artistry earn her a pass? In Girls, she brilliantly satirized herself and her generation via the main characters, four 20-something female friends living in hipster Brooklyn, all self-absorbed, insecure and underemployed. Dunham not only wrote the snarky dialogue, she also displayed a shocking willingness to “go there” in her role as Hannah Horvath – appearing naked in raunchy sex scenes, behaving by turns pathetically needy and ridiculously grandiose, often tearing up or lashing out like a spoiled child.

It was a performance that both attracted and repelled viewers. Even people who had trouble stomaching Girls recognized its groundbreaking genius, and the show, widely imitated, has never been equaled. The current HBO offering I Love LA is a direct Girls rip-off, albeit with a gay man and a black woman cast in the core four to align the show with today’s inclusivity agenda. The cute and small-boned lead Rachel Sennott whips off her top often enough, but the jolt of seeing Dunham expose her fleshy, far from perfect body in front of the camera is missing.

It’s enjoyable to take the wild ride of Girls........

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