God I Feel Modern Tonight: A Complete Guide to Catherine Cohen’s Debut Poetry Collection
⚠️ Spoiler Warning: This guide contains detailed spoilers for the entire novel. Proceed only if you've finished reading or are comfortable knowing the plot.
Quick Facts
| Field | Detail |
|---|---|
| Author | Catherine Cohen |
| Published | 2021 |
| Genre | Poetry |
| Setting | Contemporary urban America, primarily New York City; also Los Angeles, Tuscany, and road trips through the Midwest. |
| Narrator | First-person persona (Catherine Cohen’s poetic voice), a millennial woman in NYC. |
Short Summary
God I Feel Modern Tonight is Catherine Cohen’s debut poetry collection, blending confessional humor with sharp observations about modern life. The speaker—a millennial woman in New York—navigates dating, anxiety, body image, social media, and the gap between public performance and private insecurity. Through short, ironic poems, Cohen captures the restlessness of contemporary existence: the obsession with phones, the absurdity of self-help, and the longing for genuine connection. The collection moves from subway encounters and therapy sessions to road trips and Tuscany, always circling back to the speaker’s struggle to feel authentic in a world that rewards curated identities.
Full Summary
The collection opens with a poem about waking early and tweeting, immediately establishing the speaker’s ironic voice and her entanglement with digital culture (Chapter 1). In Chapter 2, she gets stuck on the C train with her beaded bag, talks to a man about his sound system, and later questions her therapist’s advice to grow—all while wondering if an Italian waiter wanted to sleep with her. This blend of mundane detail and existential worry runs through the book.
Chapter 3 introduces the term “crum” (crying and coming simultaneously) during a health-anxiety trip to CityMD. The speaker buys cold brew, feels like falling in love, and satirizes dating power dynamics. Chapter 4 sends her to Tuscany to journal about a toxic guitar teacher, but the trip fails to deliver the healing she seeks. Instead, she has messy sex in the woods and returns to her phone.
Several poems explore romantic insecurity and jealousy. In Chapter 5, after being told not to contact an ex, the speaker remembers being called a “fat whore” and imagines herself as a leaf in a play. Chapter 12 reacts to a partner calling an ex “actually really cool” by recalling a Nickelback concert in 2013. The speaker admits her addiction to male attention. Chapter 34 captures a breakup on a newly assembled couch, with the refrain “the body is elastic.”
The speaker’s relationship with her body is a constant theme. She scrutinizes her weight, faces a doctor telling her she’s gained fifteen pounds (Chapter 17), and tries to lose the same twelve pounds for fourteen years (Chapter 51). In Chapter 31, she equates coolness with thinness. Chapter 49 fantasizes about a deathbed scene fixated on hair.
Digital culture pervades every poem. The speaker checks her phone constantly, posts about losing cheese (Chapter 32), Facebook-stalks an ex’s fiancé (Chapter 19), and sends nudes to three men (Chapter 10). In Chapter 47, her Spotify top songs from 2019 undo her therapy progress. She performs intimacy on Instagram Live (Chapter 46) and wonders if a sixth sense tells her an ex is engaged (Chapter 53).
The collection also includes road-trip poems (Chapters 59–63) that shift setting to the Midwest and West. In Chapter 61, the speaker reflects on poet James Wright and realizes her best work comes from feeling hungover and mortified. Chapter 62 explores the paradox of specialness during sex. Chapter 63 ends with a choice to embrace the present moment despite social-media fickleness.
The book concludes with a prose “Note About the Author” (Chapter 64), grounding the confessional poems in Cohen’s real-life career as a comedian and actress. This meta-finale blurs the line between persona and person, reinforcing the collection’s central question: what is authentic when everything is performed?
Main Characters
- The Speaker – The first-person narrator, a millennial woman in NYC who confesses anxieties, desires, and hypocrisies with humor.
- The Lover/Partner – An unnamed recurring romantic figure who appears in intimate and domestic scenes.
- The Ex-Boyfriend – A former partner whose memory triggers jealousy, nostalgia, and unresolved feelings.
- The Therapist – A figure representing self-improvement; the speaker often resists or mocks the advice.
- The Friend – Unnamed friends who appear in anecdotes, providing contrast to the speaker’s self-absorption.
- The Stranger – Random individuals on the subway, at Whole Foods, or on the street who trigger brief revealing moments.
Themes
- Modern Anxiety and Discontent – Chronic restlessness, health anxiety, and dissatisfaction with ordinary life.
- Performance and Authenticity – Tension between public persona and private insecurity.
- Body Image and Self-Critique – Scrutiny of weight, appearance, and diet culture.
- Love and Disconnection – Romantic relationships marked by ambiguity, jealousy, and unmet expectations.
- Digital Culture and Social Media – Obsession with phones, Instagram, and dating apps as both connection and avoidance.
Symbols
- Beaded Bag – A fashion accessory that symbolizes performed identity and urban femininity.
- Subway (C Train) – A recurring setting for unexpected encounters and routine alienation.
- Phone / Smartphone – Represents dependency, distraction, and the desire for validation.
- Cold Brew Coffee – A drink choice that signifies urban lifestyle, stimulation, and sometimes romantic triggers.
Ending Overview
The collection’s final chapter (Chapter 64) is not a poem but a prose author biography. It lists Catherine Cohen’s real achievements as a comedian, podcast host, and actress—including her residency at Joe’s Pub, features in The New York Times and Vogue, and an Edinburgh Fringe award. This ending breaks the confessional persona by stepping into factual biography, blurring the line between the speaker and the author. It suggests that the emotions and performances throughout the book are both genuine artistry and crafted comedy. For a deeper analysis, see the ending explained page.
Chapter-by-Chapter Summaries
| Chapter | Summary |
|---|---|
| 1 | The speaker wakes early, tweets, and feels that modern life is ironic and performative. |
| 2 | Stuck on the C train with a beaded bag; therapist questions growth; Italian waiter memory. |
| 3 | “Crum” (cry + come) at CityMD; health anxiety; cold brew triggers romantic feelings. |
| 4 | Tuscany trip fails to provide clarity; messy sex in the woods; circular structure. |
| 5 | After being told not to contact an ex, the speaker recalls being called a fat whore. |
| 6 | Six hours of solitude as a rule; obsession with being hated; absurd career fantasies. |
| 7 | Worry when the body feels no discomfort; marriage as offense; destructive impulse. |
| 8 | Masturbating while wearing AirPods; ex-boyfriend said “I don’t know what love is.” |
| 9 | Post-gym outing with a sexual partner; Instagramming buildings signals straightness. |
| 10 | Sends the same nude to three guys; replaces Holy Trinity with yeast infection, diarrhea, period. |
| 11 | Six days sober; addicted to Adam Driver and Jason Schwartzman; crush hasn’t texted. |
| 12 | Partner says ex is “actually really cool”; recalls 2013 Nickelback concert and tampon insertion. |
| 13 | After being called “dude” post-sex; googles violence; tree as religion. |
| 14 | Hasn’t listened to new music since college; critiques polyamorous cooking class. |
| 15 | Refuses to be a girlfriend; dry-swallows birth control biking over Williamsburg Bridge. |
| 16 | Stranger compliments her outfit; googles stroke duration. |
| 17 | Reads The Paris Review for an audience; doctor says she gained fifteen pounds. |
| 18 | Should think about government but wants lover to say sex is “the end of the world.” |
| 19 | Facebook-stalks ex’s fiancé; period-stained sheets; digital voyeurism. |
| 20 | Favorite sex position involves canopy bed; first fingering by a Jason Mraz fan. |
| 21 | Hangover leads to reflection on attraction, body image, and friendship betrayal. |
| 22 | Apologizes for missing a play; defines theatre as yelling; New York puddle line. |
| 23 | Angry at ex over slow charger; overhears “low-key misogyny” in Uber Pool. |
| 24 | Mocks self-love cliché; refuses parallel parking; ends with “JK.” |
| 25 | Bails on yoga booty ballet; still reeling from hookup who didn’t know Greta Gerwig. |
| 26 | Apologizes for not texting back; recognizes a past hookup on the L train. |
| 27 | Burps at stranger; plays Mary Kate and Ashley: Magical Mystery Mall; wants to be thinner. |
| 28 | Listens to “Indie Brunch” while reading Wikipedia on murder; hospital from drinking. |
| 29 | Turns 25; calculates one-quarter of life over; throws leek at Whole Foods opening. |
| 30 | Obsesses over boyfriend’s past girlfriends; can’t do a cartwheel; love as a long worm. |
| 31 | Asks personal trainer if he believes in god; concert t-shirt makes her feel old. |
| 32 | Loses cheddar cheese, posts about it, finds it on bookshelf; difficulty reading lying down. |
| 33 | Watches catfish show; body shaming of participant; “lol” at poem about love. |
| 34 | Breakup on new couch; “the body is elastic”; cheerful performance. |
| 35 | Addresses British lover; past-life fantasy; Orthodox Jewish ex. |
| 36 | Desire for something to happen; street-cleaning machine makes her scream involuntarily. |
| 37 | Partner says she’s not as amazing as she thinks; defends love born of loneliness. |
| 38 | In a bodega; sees reflection; heartbreak always feels new. |
| 39 | Six days of rain in NYC; wants boyfriend; romanticizes music theory; fantasies of domesticity. |
| 40 | Enters new Starbucks; calls ex drunk; embraces embarrassment as honest. |
| 41 | Italy trip; depression as a wall; orders cow stomach; solitude equally unenjoyable. |
| 42 | Kiss in a closet; slap; lover is a cosmic experiment; curtain rod erotica. |
| 43 | Weak glutes cause hip pain; calls to ask if missed; nine-minute messy bun tutorial. |
| 44 | Tells Ian “I love you”; intense sex; Didion’s void; partner bites neck. |
| 45 | Downloads Sims during quarantine; Paris trip; broken glass pushed into corner. |
| 46 | Cuts boyfriend’s hair on Instagram Live; asks about marriage then would reject. |
| 47 | Spotify top songs of 2019 undo therapy; antidepressants cause bad mood and sexual side effects. |
| 48 | Defines modern as anxiety; longs for simpler times; therapist’s obvious advice about weight. |
| 49 | Jogging; tried weed every two years; sober January lasts four days; deathbed hair question. |
| 50 | Punishes self with jeans; film sex; therapist urges gentleness; skips rocks. |
| 51 | Bagel with butter; diet culture; same twelve pounds for fourteen years; ex-boyfriend explained “ruminate.” |
| 52 | Pandemic; worries about arm fat; wrong gas in car; Love Island with therapist. |
| 53 | Taylor Swift album; hasn’t seen sun in four days; sixth sense ex is engaged. |
| 54 | Pregnancy test for thrill; fantasy of curated motherhood; never finished Renata Adler novel. |
| 55 | Texts therapist she’s not pregnant; mole hair; memory of Six Flags in rain. |
| 56 | Hasn’t watched full film since aughts; ate six deviled eggs; misses everything at once. |
| 57 | Self-timer photo of breasts; turns 29; “finger ass guy”; Victorian literature. |
| 58 | Quarantine regression; demands to be called sexy four times; discovery of color mauve. |
| 59 | Road trip #3: naked swim in LA; cinematic fight; wants to be first to never feel bad. |
| 60 | Road trip #9: zones out; wealthy man buys deconstructed Cobb salad; wants good mood in America. |
| 61 | Road trip #12: friend Sara’s art friends; James Wright poem; sex under stars; best work from feeling hungover. |
| 62 | Road trip #17: jealous of everyone; “one for the record books” paradox; McDonald’s setting. |
| 63 | Road trip #20: sunglasses company unfollowed; sunset better than sunrise; chooses contentment. |
| 64 | Author biography: real-life Catherine Cohen, comedian, podcast host, actress. |
Frequently Asked Questions
-
What does “crum” mean in the collection?
“Crum” is a portmanteau of crying and coming (orgasming) at the same time, introduced in Chapter 3 as a raw, humorous expression of emotional and physical release. -
Is the speaker Catherine Cohen herself?
The speaker is a poetic persona, but the collection blurs autobiography and performance. The final chapter (author bio) reinforces that Cohen’s real life as a comedian overlaps with the speaker’s confessions. -
What is the significance of the beaded bag?
The beaded bag appears in Chapter 2 as a fashion accessory the speaker carries on the subway. It symbolizes her curated urban identity and the performance of femininity. -
Why does the speaker keep mentioning her phone?
The phone represents modern dependency, distraction, and the search for validation through social media and texts. It appears in almost every chapter. -
Does the collection have a plot?
No, it is a collection of standalone poems. However, recurring themes, characters, and settings create a cohesive portrait of the speaker’s life and mindset. -
What is the “modern love poem” about?
Chapter 18 contrasts civic duty with romantic obsession: the speaker wants her lover to tell her that sex with her “is the end of the world,” ignoring politics. -
How does the book end?
The final chapter is a prose author biography, stepping out of the poetic persona to reveal Cohen’s real-world comedic career, blurring the line between performance and authenticity. -
What are the main symbols in the book?
Key symbols include the beaded bag (performed identity), the C train (alienation), the smartphone (digital dependency), and cold brew coffee (urban stimulation).