Amanda Palmer makes me uncomfortable. I’m probably not unique in that, but the reason this reaction is somewhat interesting – at least to me – is that I simultaneously like her a lot. I have a general policy of liking intense, interesting, creative, kick-ass women and Amanda is an ukulele-playing feminist who draws her brows on in completely mad ways and is the author of the wittiest humiliation of Daily Mail in history. Of course I love the woman.

So why the uncomfortableness and a vague sense of embarrassment? Why is it that while I sincerely think women should be freer and louder and prouder and do whatever they want with their mind and body, I start getting doubts when one of them actually does? I can hear all kinds of unworthy thoughts lurking in the back of my mind: Is all this taking-off-the-clothes and writing-on-the-body stuff really necessary? I mean, can’t she make her points, I don’t know, in a less dramatic way? Be a bit less emotional? Does she really have to share EVERYTHING? Well, I’m exaggerating a bit for effect, but you see where I’m coming from.

All these thoughts have of course nothing to do with Amanda, who I dearly wish will continue to act and live exactly as she pleases, and everything to do with me. Watching and reading Amanda Palmer is a great exercise in discovering your own prejudices and emotional handicaps. Some of these are universal, but some of them are clearly specific to women. It’s pretty scary to realize how ingrained some ugly patterns are in our society and thinking: I consider myself a feminist, and I still go there, I still think “this is just too… much”. People might argue (and they do), that it’s not gender specific and I just don’t like people behaving in certain ways. It is possible. But the point is that we’ll never know, will we? As long as we live in a world where women are supposed to be a certain way and men another, there is no way to tell how I would react if things were different.

It seems difficult to talk about Amanda Palmer without being personal. Originally, I was just going to recommend her book and make some intelligent observations about the future of the arts, but four paragraphs in and I haven’t even started. So, the book. If you have an interest in human psyche, music, art in general, Internet, marketing, living statues or, of course, Amanda Palmer, you should read it. I’m not going to promise that you’re going to like it, but seriously, it has more to say about the state of things than you get from your Gladwells and Talebs (it’s not a dig at these guys, they aren’t bad either).

In the heart of the book is the necessity and beauty of asking and how this connects to making art and doing it for a living. All the points in the book are presented through personal experience, from working as a living statue in a wedding dress to a wildly successful crowdfunding experiment and its backlash. It does in fact make total sense in the book and the gist of it is captured in her famous TED talk, now with millions of views.

Maybe because I had watched the TED talk before, my favorite parts of the book were two less central bits. One was the insight into the music industry and its business model(s) – how it works now and how it might work in the future. The least emotional part, you could say. The other theme I found extremely poignant, however, was also one of the most emotional: the mysterious workings of Internet, the way love and hate happen and un-happen there, the new and strange intimacy of the social media and its dark side. If you are considering writing a hateful comment somewhere on the web, I suggest your read this book first.

The whole story is an intelligent ramble, a collage of disparate pieces, but Amada is holding it together by the sheer power of her personality and by the simple fact that she has something to say. It is political and personal and it’s occasionally uncomfortable, but for a book like that, it’s a small price to pay. Or maybe it’s the reward.