All of this would have sounded even more preposterous if Sam hadn’t already done what he’d done—or if he hadn’t been so unusual. He hadn’t been warAll of this would have sounded even more preposterous if Sam hadn’t already done what he’d done—or if he hadn’t been so unusual. He hadn’t been warped by money in the ways people often are. He wasn’t braggy. Yeah, I don't really care, because Sam Bankman-Fried doesn't deserve my sympathy. I don't think that someone who defrauded people out of billions has the right to a moral high ground.
It doesn't help that SBF is also just an incredibly insufferable person. The worst parts of this book are the parts where he speaks to Lewis, or where it's his opinions that are being discussed. For someone who is so disdainful of the value of criticism, he definitely did not get his own memo. He criticises everyone and everything, from god to the fashion industry to middle school English. As a dumb, liberal arts/social sciences girl who currently works in tech, I have a particular hatred for all the smart STEM bros that look down upon any non-STEM subject, because *they* either don't understand the subject, or think they're above subjecting themselves to boring subjects like history or political science, which have no bearing on current lives. Bankman-Fried is one such STEM bro. Maybe if he had paid more attention in his humanities classes, he'd have learnt about what happens to greedy young men who run Ponzi schemes.
It's evident from the beginning that Bankman-Fried is autistic, but his general behaviour and demeanour make it so very difficult to sympathise with him. I'm supposed to believe that everything he says or does that is unsavoury is because of his neurodivergence, but it's really hard to do that when all of Bankman-Fried's calculations surrounding what has value, and ergo, what deserves his attention are motivated by how they would benefit him.
Perhaps my biggest issue with Bankman-Fried is his casual superiority complex. He sees no value for the arts, so thus, the arts must have no value. Other people celebrate big events or achievements in their life? Oh, wow, how wonderful it must be to be a lesser human being who has the time to think about such absurdly inane and irrelevant events. Go fuck yourself and your ridiculous superiority complex, Sam. Everyone else may not be as smart as you, but at least they can live with the clear conscience of not having embezzeled billions, and also, you know, the comfort of knowing they don't have to spend their forseeable future in jail.
The people close to him claim that he doesn't really understand that what he is doing is, in fact,making life difficult for others. On the other hand, considering the volume of his crimes, and everything he did before he got caught, I am less inclined to attribute to his autism what could more easily be explained by his greed and capitalism. For one, I don't really believe that Bankman-Fried was the effective altruist he claimed to be. I can believe that that is what he aspired to, at least at some previous point in his life, but you know what they say about actions speaking louder than words.
It is a true miracle that I finished this book because the number of times I wanted to set it on fire far exceeds up to where I can humanly count, but maybe SBF's savant skills can help me out. Honestly, I didn't know what the tone of this book was going to be when I got into it. I was expecting a more discerning, better researched, almost academic piece, a la Lewis's other works, but instead, this book reads almost like a PR fluff piece asking people to sympathise with the poor little rich boy who made a small mistake, because, well, he didn't mean to....more
I really, really like The Office. It's one of my go-to comfort comedy shows, and I can't really tell you *how* many times I've watched it from start tI really, really like The Office. It's one of my go-to comfort comedy shows, and I can't really tell you *how* many times I've watched it from start to finish. It may seem like too many times, but for me, it really feels like I've not watched it enough times. I got a Peacock subscription so I could watch the extended episodes. I'm up-to-date on the Office Ladies podcast. I just also had to read the book.
It is by no means a paragon of great literature, but it is heartwarming and comforting and funny, which is what you need sometimes. ...more
I joined the monthly bookclub my local library hosts. Honestly, I joined it more so I would have something outside of work and my regular life to do, I joined the monthly bookclub my local library hosts. Honestly, I joined it more so I would have something outside of work and my regular life to do, but as it turns out, it's also introduced me to books I would not have read otherwise. Like In the Dream House, which was June's book of the month. On the other hand, I've also learnt that book clubs can be rigid, which is actually relevant to this review, but is neither a good nor bad thing. I understand why these discussions revolve around specific points and questions, but I also believe that the beauty of any book lies in not having to concentrate on specific points or questions. For me, more often than not, it's not about a particular fact, as much as it's about how I feel when I read something.
Usually with a book that is structured the way that Dream House is, I would be tempted to follow the format of the book in the review; use the metaphor of the dream house to make the point, like Maria Machado does. But, the book deals with some very sensitive issues, and I think I would be disrespecting the book and the author if I abused wordplay and language for literary symmetry.
Like Maria Machado, I identify as bisexual (more pansexual, actually). The first real, queer memoir I remember reading is Jeanette Winterson's Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, which whilst very compelling, and formative for me even, was confusing for me to get through, because I hadn't really recognised or dealt with my own queer identity. It's not really relevant to this book at all, but also, some of the profound moments of being queer feel the same, immaterial of the book.
We deserve to have our wrongdoing represented as much as our heroism, because when we refuse wrongdoing as a possibility for a group of people, we refuse their humanity. That is to say, queers—real-life ones—do not deserve representation, protection, and rights because they are morally pure or upright as a people. They deserve those things because they are human beings, and that is enough.
The fact of the matter is, Maria Machado is right. We've only just started publicly discussing gender and sex and sexuality. In a world that either equates queerness to perversion, or goes out of its way to "accommodate" it, it's difficult to have difficult conversations about abuse in queer relationships. I had a friend do the latter once. She meant well, and this was before I came out, but I was still offended that she put my people on a pedestal due to some kind of misplaced guilt. It took me years, actually, to convince her that being part of the LGBTQ+ community didn't automatically make someone "nicer" than people who weren't. In fact, she could not believe that after everything "the gays" have been through, they would "jeopardise" it by being abusive. She also told me that queer people were the best people she'd met; so kind, so caring. In all her exposition, however, she forgot one thing, which is really all we want everyone to understand. And that is that we're all still human. Being queer doesn't make you less human, but also, it doesn't make you more human. Kind of like how being left-handed doesn't make you more or less human than someone who's right-handed. You would think that I prefer such outbursts to blatant discrimination, and you wouldn't be wrong, albeit, only very slightly.
It is possible to experience abuse of all kinds in queer relationships, and because of the perceived taboo nature of such relationships, it's just that much more difficult to talk about it. I think that the metaphor of the Dream House is a creative and powerful way to address this issue. Not just in that it distances Maria Machado from her past, but also in that it contrasts the passion and intense emotion of the relationship with the fantasy of the dream house. The Dream House is both an accident and a bildungsroman. It is high fantasy and it is a plot twist. It is an epiphany, a musical, a soap opera, and a cliche. Every chapter tells more of the story, and so, the Dream House becomes more and more real. It is someone else's story, but also, it's more common than you would think it is. Ultimately, Maria Machado's breakdown of queer relationships, especially female queer relationships, and the prevelance of abuse in such relationships is the raw, unflinching reality check that I think everyone needs.
Maria Machado actually explains the disjointed, tropey storytelling in one of the chapters, by explaining how the story is broken down because she herself was, and it's really heartbreaking to read. Experimental storytelling is always whimsical and somewhat fun for me. This was a rare time where I viewed it as a representation of something more personal and fragmented.
I honestly don't have much else to say. It's difficult to sit and review a memoir; it's the equivalent of dissecting someone else's life, and I can't say I'm qualified to do that....more
This is a very good book for a number of reasons, although some of it is really just not for me. Obviously reviewing a review or an opinion is a lot hThis is a very good book for a number of reasons, although some of it is really just not for me. Obviously reviewing a review or an opinion is a lot harder than reviewing like a straight-up book, but I can try.
The biggest thing that Emily Nussbaum achieves in this book is that she does a really good job of destigmatising "television for women". This is a very important argument to make, and it's a bit personal to me. I really like "television for women". I also really like romantic comedies, and chick lit. There are the obvious fluffy, feel-good elements to such shows or books or movies, but Nussbaum makes a very compelling argument that a show like Sex and the City is more than a show about having sex in the big city. It's a show that was also hugely empowering for many women at the time, because it showed women having succesful careers and enjoying sex. Which, honestly, is even rare to this day.
This argument in particular, even if the rest of it had been utter trash, would have been enough for me to recommend the book. I read chick lit because it's cathartic. It's not always high literature, but it can be. Let's not forget, back in the day, Pride and Prejudice was also criticised for being too much like a fairytale. Nussbaum also raises the question of why people think of it as art when a man (particularly, an older, straigh, White man) writes about having sex with a much younger woman, while no matter how good it is, a woman writing about falling in love or having sex is considered decidedly more lowbrow. Not to get too PC about things, but I think it's a point we should all think about.
Nussbaum also talks about cancel culture (versus consequence culture), and what that means for art. Unless the act is so egregious (think Harvey Weinstein or Kevin Spacey), I don't particulary believe in cancel culture. I think it can become rooted in some form of mob mentality, especially on social media platforms, and as someone who studies social media movements, that makes me both curious and uncomfortable. Having said all that, I also agree with Nussbaum when she says that separating the art from the artist depends on the art itself, and the artist themselves, that it's more of a personal choice than a hard and fast rule. Although, I never ever really liked Woody Allen or his movies anyway, and I feel personally vindicated now, for being told I just "didn't get" his art.
Political and social arguments aside, Nussbaum has a great voice. She really did watch her way through the television revolution, and she was one of the first, true television critics. It's a truly fun journey through The Sopranos, and Buffy, and Lost, and Black-ish. Her reviews are a love letter to television as a medium, a platform, a form of art - all of it, and that's why this book works. What we see on television, or for that matter, in any form of art, is always going to be a reflection of society at that time. It could be obvious (and bleak), like in The Sopranos, or The Wire; or satirical like Veep or Succession; or a fantastical wet dream, like in The West Wing (my personal favourite); or still, it could be an eyewash, like every single police procedural during the heat of the Black Lives Matter protests....more
The Scots have a talent for invoking a very specific kind of imagery in their books, their writings. If I had to pick a book written by a Scot from a The Scots have a talent for invoking a very specific kind of imagery in their books, their writings. If I had to pick a book written by a Scot from a pile of books, I probably would be able to, using this imagery as a test. It's a little dark, a little dreary, but not without heart.
Fittingly, I read Shuggie Bain on Mother's Day. I honestly didn't mean to, it was a happy coincidence. I was trying to find A Swim in a Pond in the Rain at my local library, and when I couldn't, I borrowed Shuggie Bain instead. What a happy coincidence it was!
The book wins for the simple reason that it doesn't try too hard. It doesn't aspire to be the greatest literary work of this generation. It aspires to one thing, and it is heart. It doesn't try the old literary adgae of tragedy porn. Really, it doesn't try at all, and for that reason, it is brilliant. Nothing is overwrought or overdone, and it didn't have to be. I think that's the beauty of it.
People have compared Shuggie Bain to A Little Life, for all the tragedy and sheer sadness of the book, but the reason I love the former whilst I hated the latter is because in the end, the book is just a love letter to the author's mother. Or at least, I hope it is....more
On repeatedly reading the first draft of this review, I've realised that there were paragraphs here that don't fit into the structure of my review, buOn repeatedly reading the first draft of this review, I've realised that there were paragraphs here that don't fit into the structure of my review, but are still relevant to my opinions, so I'm going to put those as comments to follow the review.
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0 stars.
I read this for, let's call it science. I'm not the intended audience for this book, but that doesn't mean that I should not have been able to enjoy it. Spoiler alert: I didn't, in fact, enjoy it. I don't like self-help books because, generally speaking, I don't like being given unsolicited advice. I'm also just not a spiritual kind of person. That is not why I didn't like this book. Well, it is a little bit, but there's a lot more to it.
I am of the unequivocal belief that unless you have achieved something extraordinary since your last one, everyone should be allowed to write a grand total of one memoir in their lifetime. I think this should be particularly true for people like Glennon Doyle who really don't have anything significant to add to the conversation outside of "you go, girl". I have not read her other memoirs, and I don't think I ever will, honestly, unless I am asked to, you know, for science. That being said, I don't particularly think, from the blurbs of those, that they differ very much from this one. I basically had the same reaction to this as I did to Girl, Wash Your Face.
It's good that Doyle discovered her sexuality again and found the love of her life, but that's about all the good I have to say. I do not understand the vacillation between being a memoir and being a self-help book. If you want to write a memoir, then I believe you should stick to "I did this, this happened to me" and not go into "this worked for me, and I know that when you start thinking like I do, your life will get better too". Fuck right off with that line of thinking. A person's memoir is meant to tell their stories to other people, NOT tell people how they should be living instead. When such advice comes from people like Doyle (sort of an upper middle class, White, Christian woman), from what I've seen, it goes from plain vacuous to downright dangerous.
Glennon Doyle is a special snowflake who thinks she's the only one who's all that is good and right in the world. She talks about how a Bible study teacher who wouldn't answer her questions, and I honestly think it was because the teacher recognised that "me-me-me" aspect in her personality. Not to side with the Creationists or anything, but that's how I would have reacted to Glennon's "curiosity". Glennon knows all and Glennon know best. Glennon doesn't have to listen to anyone because Glennon is Glennon. Do not even get me started on how she talks about God, and her Knowing, and whatnot. I don't know what any of it means, and I couldn't explain it to you if you paid me to. It's like the worst intersection of random spirituality with pop psychology and a *lot* of jargon, and it does not work.
There's also something to be said about Doyle's late-bloomer feminist realisations. Like suddenly discovering that products for 'men' and 'women'* are marketed differently. What an incredible discovery, Glennon, literally no one else has ever noticed that before. Thanks for enlightening us. I'm glad that she's come to the realisation that that happens, but it's not revolutionary, and people - actual sociologists and experts in gender studies - have written about it with far greater nuance for years now. Or, how about the fact that when she talks about how we (women) can't please everyone, she writes it such that every other woman on earth still thinks like that, and thank god we have Glennon the Great to show us the way. I truly hate that she labels these as a-ha moments, (which in the context of this book are more just "I'm Glennon and I know best" moments). I guess it probably comes from having life-altering epiphanies at an older age, but a lot of what she says really sounds like she's trying to tell me that she is the kindest, smartest, best person there is. Even her flaws make her sound that way.
She talks about how she's supposed to listen to women and guide them, and that's her job, and this is where things become alarming rather than amusing. Because this is not her job. She's not a trained psychiatrist, or a psychologist, or for that matter even a people person. Her messaging and solutions are a la Rachel Hollis and everyone else in this White Christian feminist self-help memoir category. They discount the personal experiences and situations of people whilst emphasising that we all have the solutions to our problems inside of us, and we just need to work towards materialising those solutions. I've said it before and I'll say it again, it takes a spectacular amount of privilege to make such sweeping statements and provide generalising solutions. She's also dismissive of her therapist (and therapists in general), and that's not the best message to give in a book that has been read by hundreds of thousands, by a woman who claims to help everyone.
She also talks about how some words come with very narrow and straitjacket definitions, and how she changes them to fit her narrative and story. This is great. What she does after, is not great, because she wants us to follow her definitions of these words (like brave). She never ever says "well, this interpretation worked for me, why don't you see what'll work for you?" She only says "this worked for me, so I know it will for you as well". At best, the messaging is a bit confusing. At worst, it is problematic because what worked for her will never work for every other woman on earth in the same way. Doyle is not a certified therapist, and she is definitely not the certified therapist of all of the alcoholics and other addicts and women with a plethora of problems who approach her. Addicts are good at helping other addicts, this is true, and this is why we have addicts sponsor other addicts. However, a good sponsor recognises when to tell their sponsee that they should get professional help, and that the sponsor can only do so much. Doyle is very bad at doing these latter two things. She may be a good shoulder for her clients to cry on, but that should be it.
She's awful at "show, not tell", and this is not just an issue for (or of) bad writing. The appeal in memoirs, for me, comes from the fact that usually, the memoirist is saying "this is a book of all that I have done in my life, for you to read, and you to judge." With Doyle, it's more "I have done all this and more because I'm amazing, how can you not like and admire me?" She does not give me, the reader, the opportunity to judge her actions. I wonder if she is trying to prove to me, or to herself that she is, in fact a good person? Honestly, the same goes for her children. I understand that all parents are proud of their children in various ways and to various degrees and extents. But Glennon's children are the best. They're the only ones who are kind and intelligent and sensitive and brave and they are here to change the world. And Doyle is the best person ever to give everyone parenting advice because she has ABSOLUTELY MASTERED the art of parenting.
Another problem with these "curated" memoirs, in my opinion, is that the stories are, in fact, specifically selected to the specific purpose of showing "I overcame all this, my friends experienced these other things, and so you should too". More specifically, they're written to show the memoirist in a good light, not an honest light. Let's consider addiction, for instance. Doyle has been open with her addiction (good on her) in her stories, and in his memoir, Open Andre Agassi also talks about his struggles with substance abuse. There is a stark difference in the way these stories have been presented. In the former, Doyle uses it to show that she had problems too, and how far she's come. I was more endeared to Agassi's portrayal, however, because he didn't write it in a way that seemed to ask for my sympathy or my pity. It was what it was, it is what it is. In her quest to make herself seem more relatable, Doyle has actually done the opposite, whereas Agassi who didn't actually attempt to do that, elicited my sympathy. No two people, are the same, and so not are two memoirists. I'm not asking Doyle to write the way Agassi does. I am asking her to pen her experiences as just experiences and not as things for which we should laud her.
I mean, should I expect more when Doyle herself admits that everything she writes is, in fact curated: I sat in the driver’s seat for a while and realized that the revelation of my husband’s betrayal did not leave me feeling the despair of a wife with a broken heart. I was feeling the rage of a writer with a broken plot. Hell hath no fury like a memoirist whose husband just fucked up her story. I see this in various points of her book, and I really want to give Doyle a reality check, that her memoir should be inspired by her real life, and NOT THE OTHER FUCKING WAY AROUND. ���I don’t know much about the sports world, but I do know that out here in the real world, we like real people” she tells her future wife at one point, and I think she should take her own advice in this regard.
There is a reason why all of the good memoirs come from people who have only written one memoir. There's also a reason why people, generally speaking, write memoirs when they're older, or towards the culmination of their careers. If you publish your first memoir before you're 40, and then keep publishing newer "memoirs" every couple of years or so, you won't really have much to tell. And thus, you *will* veer into the preachy side of writing. I saw this happen with Rachel Hollis, and I see it here. There is so, so much more I could write about why I *don't* like Untamed, but I think I'll stop here. The incredibly short version of this review being: I'm not the target audience.
If you want a real, heartfelt, true memoir about a girl (woman?) trying to reconcile her faith with her queerness, I recommend Jeannette Winterson's Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit. It is excellent and it truly made me cry.
Having said all that, I'm truly happy for Doyle that she was able to overcome her bulimia and addiction, find the love of her life and accept her sexuality, and have a good life. That doesn't in any way make her an expert in telling others how they can also have their dream lives. To end on a positive-ish note, however, I *am* a fan of Abby Wambach, and her memoir would probably (definitely) be more my speed.
*For the purposes of this memoir (and thus my review), men and women refer to cis-gender men and women....more
A very late update, but I only just caught up on my Atlantics. This article, I think succinctly and excellently sums up tUpdate - 4 January, 2022:
A very late update, but I only just caught up on my Atlantics. This article, I think succinctly and excellently sums up the train-wreck bits of the book, and consequently of J D Vance's thought process.
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ORIGINAL REVIEW -
It's always difficult to review memoirs or autobiographies because as well as reviewing the book itself, I also feel like I'm reviewing the life of the person who wrote the book. Except if it's one of those self-help numbers marketed as memoirs and directed at "hapless young women" looking for "direction" in life. Those are easy to review because I find them to be exploitative, and it's not hard to count the ways.
Hillbilly Elegy, although it does get preachy in parts, is nothing like that, and so figuring out how to rate this, and what to write about it, was really difficult. In terms of readability, it was great. I was riveted, I didn't need a thesaurus, and I finished it in one sitting. On the other hand, somewhere in the middle it sort of stops being a memoir and turns into a bit of a train-wreck of a generalisation of life and success (or the lack of it) in the rust belt. So, some obvious bad bits. I've said it in my bio and I'll say it again, a well-written book, even if it is somewhat iffy (not Mein Kampf iffy, but you know, Lolita iffy) is automatically going to get a good rating from me. What I'm trying to say is, I struggled with how to rate this book, and settled on a middling 3 stars.
I think the biggest draw of Hillbilly Elegy for me was that it read, for the most part, like a great American novel. This is literally my favourite genre in all of literature - I like long-form novels about different experiences in America. It's generic to say the least, but when written well, the generic can become remarkable, and I think that's the appeal. In that regard, I feel like this book ticked all the boxes. I'm not trying to reduce someone's life experiences to a great American novel, but I think looking at it that way explains a number of things. For one, I understand why it was made into a movie. For another, it makes it easier for me to have an opinion; this way I don't feel like I'm evaluating another person's life, opinions, and choices. Does that feel like a cop out? Maybe.
J.D. Vance's story does read like a great American novel. All of the elements are there: the drug addict mother, the older sister who grew up too quick because she had to, the grandparents who raised the "protagonist", the loving extended family, and what I like to call the road trip element. The only difference is that it's, you know, a true story. Vance grew up between two drastically similar, yet different towns - Middletown, Ohio, and Jackson, Kentucky. His family was working class at best, he went to a normal school, joined the Marine Corps, and went to Yale Law School. It's an inspiring story.
On the other hand, it was also a commentary on the politics of towns like Middletown and Jackson. This makes sense, also. A few months ago, I went camping in New Hampshire, a state that votes Democrat. As we moved into the more rural areas, however, two things happened almost in concert with each other. There were an increasing number of rundown, derelict factories. More importantly, and not coincidentally, every other house had a Trump sign in the yard. There has been a direct correlation between the loss of manufacturing, working-class jobs, and an increase in the number of people voting for Trump. I think this was the essence of the book, that working-class Americans were voting Republican because they wanted jobs.
We tend to overstate and to understate, to glorify the good and ignore the bad in ourselves.
However, this commentary is where my problems with the book started. There are a few distinct directions this rhetoric took, and I think they kind of contradicted each other, although Vance does manage to salvage a couple of these arguments. There are some clear instances where the government and public policy are criticised, for leaving the poor poor and making the rich richer. I don't particularly disagree with this criticism, but on the other hand and at the same time, there is some criticism levelled at welfare queens*, and what he liked to call the lazy. There's a particular kind of disdain he shows for this kind of poor people, the poor Vance believes stayed poor because they either wanted to abuse the system or because they were too lazy and lacked motivation.
I have a bit of a problem with this for a few reasons. Policy is my bread and butter. It is absolutely impossible for any public policy, not matter how good it is, to actually, completely solve or eradicate a problem. Vance shows his acceptance of this argument. People sometimes ask whether I think there’s anything we can do to “solve” the problems of my community. I know what they’re looking for: a magical public policy solution or an innovative government program. But these problems of family, faith, and culture aren’t like a Rubik’s Cube, and I don’t think that solutions (as most understand the term) really exist. A good friend, who worked for a time in the White House and cares deeply about the plight of the working class, once told me, “The best way to look at this might be to recognize that you probably can’t fix these things. They’ll always be around. But maybe you can put your thumb on the scale a little for the people at the margins.”
More importantly, the whole lack of motivation/laziness argument is more nuanced than that, and I think it has a lot to do with an almost sacrosanct belief in upward mobility and the American Dream. I think the idea has been oversold, and I know people from all around the world who believe in it. Lifting one's self up by the bootstraps and making something of one's self by sheer hard work and power of will is admirable and inspiring. I am, however, of the sincere belief that that is not an option or a possibility for many. Again, there is some acceptance of this argument by Vance towards the end.
I do agree with him, however, when he says that there is an increasing tendency among White, working-class Americans to blame the government and its father for their problems. There is a cultural movement in the white working class to blame problems on society or the government, and that movement gains adherents by the day.
What separates the successful from the unsuccessful are the expectations that they had for their own lives. Yet the message of the right is increasingly: It’s not your fault that you’re a loser; it’s the government’s fault. I think this is becoming the discourse among a lot of conservative politicians, to garner votes. This, I believe is the real problem, kind of at the intersection of policy and blame game. I think people are choosing to blame policy or the government, instead of working because politicians from these regions are encouraging people to do this, which is also Vance's conclusion here.
I also think that resorting to drugs or alcohol or sex as a coping mechanism, whilst harmful both to the person and their loved ones, is more nuanced as well. I entirely understand Vance's feelings towards his mother. Vance's acceptance of his mother's trauma, her anger issues, and her addiction towards the end, however, scores some brownie points. I think the range of emotions during that realisation was beautifully captured.
Drug addiction was a disease, and just as I wouldn’t judge a cancer patient for a tumor, so I shouldn’t judge a narcotics addict for her behavior. At thirteen, I found this patently absurd, and Mom and I often argued over whether her newfound wisdom was scientific truth or an excuse for people whose decisions destroyed a family. Oddly enough, it’s probably both: Research does reveal a genetic disposition to substance abuse, but those who believe their addiction is a disease show less of an inclination to resist it. Mom was telling herself the truth, but the truth was not setting her free.
There's also something to be said about Vance's discovery of what a normal and healthy relationship should look like. I think it was also at this point that I understood the reasons behind him including the commentary I've been cribbing about. I think that he was discovering things about himself, about life, and relationships, and how things should be with a sort of disbelief. I also think that finding scientific evidence for these things just cemented the difference between what was and what should be.
Everything said, I'm only an outsider giving an opinion on someone's personal experiences and beliefs, so grain of salt. I do think that the book was timely, in that it offered good insight into, among other things, why an overwhelming number of people voted for Trump. I also think that Vance himself being a modern conservative adds credence to the argument itself, immaterial of how one feels about it. I know people with whom this book resonated deeply, and I know people who didn't like the stereotyping of "hillbillies". I am neither of those people, I'm not even American, although I have lived here for the past couple of years. I do, however, believe that this is a book one can only have an opinion about after reading it, and if for that reason alone, I recommend it.
*Note: Vance clarifies what he means by welfare queens: To many analysts, terms like “welfare queen” conjure unfair images of the lazy black mom living on the dole. Readers of this book will realize quickly that there is little relationship between that specter and my argument: I have known many welfare queens; some were my neighbors, and all were white....more
I think because Google curates all the books I read, and authors (and 'authors') I have read, I found out today that the woman is geEDIT - 17/06/2020:
I think because Google curates all the books I read, and authors (and 'authors') I have read, I found out today that the woman is getting divorced. Just so we're clear about this, Rachel Hollis wrote two whole books about how fucking amazing her marriage was, has a podcast on how fucking perfect her marriage was, and apparently even conducted marriage retreats to teach people how to have perfect marriages like hers. If nothing else, this is quite plainly just fraud, and I wholeheartedly feel badly for her fans, who I'm sure must be feeling pretty duped right now.
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Have you watched the television show The Newsroom? The protagonists of the show are a news anchor and a news producer who are on a 'mission to civilise'. You know, truly educate the American people about the way the American political system (and by extension, politicians) work. You would say that this is idealistic...quixotic, even. Seeing as how they are inspired by Don Quixote, you wouldn't be wrong in your assumption.
I'm on my own mission to civilise. I believe some books are unambiguously bad, because their message is unambiguously problematic, and I need people to know that. What makes me an expert? I don't think I am; just some historical evidence that I've been right about most of these books. Rachel thinks that's okay for me to sound so cocky, and that I shouldn't have to apologise for it. So, yeah.
On the point of being an expert, however, this is exactly my issue with self-help books. The writers assume that what worked for them will work for everyone else, and sell this assumption for millions of dollars. And, well, manage to sound condescending while doing so, obviously.
This is verily my problem with Girl, Stop Apologizing, more so than most other self-help drivel I've read. Rachel Hollis is an incredibly problematic writer, and let me count the ways.
There is a scene in the movie Julie & Julia where Julie's husband calls her out for being completely self-absorbed by her blog. I'm paraphrasing here, but he asks her how narcissistic she thinks she's being, and she says she's a 9.3 on a scale of 10. Julie's husband has yet to meet Hollis, who's closer to a 93 on a scale of 10. I get that the point of a book like this, as it is with a blog, is to document your personal experiences, but it is absolutely stunning to see how shockingly tone-deaf Hollis is. If you think I'm using one too many adjectives here, it's because I literally cannot process the message in her books, or better describe my reaction to it.
For one, she is spectacularly terrible at recognising her own privilege. She constantly talks about all these things she's achieved all on her own: building a company from the 'ground up', and being a bestselling author, and raising four children... What she doesn't mention is that her husband was a media mogul (in its true sense, not the way she throws this word around) who could bankroll her dream while also supporting her as she made no money. She had a fairly significant social media presence and a blog, which definitely helped her become a bestselling author. And well, she had the money to self-publish her books before it was bought over by a publisher. She has household help and a nanny to help with the children and caring for the home in general. She's also pretty, white, Christian conservative, and has glossy hair and a trim body.
She likes lumping in all women in one single broad category and referring to this broad category as "sister" or "girl". Don't even get me started on "tribe". I fucking hate that. Don't do that. Not only does it sound disingenuous and derivative (appropriative even), it is dangerous because she assumes all women* are the same. Thus, her advice assumes that the root cause of all women's problems is the same. That we don't believe in ourselves enough. What a load of horseshit. Women can't "achieve their dreams" as she calls it, because they don't have goals, or they don't make time. Not because of very really problems including, but not limited to that not all women can afford to dream.
There is a plethora of other reasons for this. Financial instability, for one. Hollis married young and her husband was an executive at Disney. Literally very, very, very few people have that kind of financial safety net. Institutionalised discrimination for another: racial, sex-based, sexuality-based, ethnic, social, economic, socio-economic...
Add to it the fact that not everyone wants to start a party-planning business or run a half-marathon. What if a woman's goal is to leave her abusive partner? Hollis thinks it's the woman's responsibility to leave if she's in a bad relationship. That she has to work towards it. She doesn't say it in these many words, but it's implied. Merely believing that one can indeed leave this relationship is not the first step, Rachel. There is so much more at play! Hollis does not recognise this, and it is evident in the sort of disdain she throws at her mom for not throwing her a super fancy birthday party after she split from her (abusive) dad and literally had no money. She seems so blithely unaware of financial struggle and abuse, it is actually harmful for her to give out any sort of advice or counsel.
She also assumes that it is possible for every woman to take extravagant vacations and find a whole hour of free time everyday. Again, not everyone has that kind of time or money. If you don’t have an hour to spare, you don’t have a life. has to be the most entitled statement I have read in a very, very long time.
The same can be said about the way she irresponsibly throws around words like "diet" and "exercise". A lot of her 'I was an ugly, fat kid' stories definitely sound like fat-shaming. My goal may be to run a marathon, but it is important that I do it the right way. It is possible to *not* be a size 2 and still be fit and run marathons. Similarly with drinking water, I believe that it is very important to stay hydrated. However, how much water one drinks is dependent on the lifestyle and there is such a thing as too much water. In other words, don't give health and nutrition advice if you aren't a nutritionist. It can cause more harm than good.
She says age is no bar to dreams. We just have to believe in them and develop skills to achieve them. What the actual fuck? I call bullshit. I maybe skilled, both professionally as well as in terms of confidence and whatnot, but I'm not going to get my dream job just because I really, really want it, and I really, really believe in it. It doesn't help that she also sort of counters this argument by saying I need to wait for God's plan or whatever, although that somehow contradicts the whole "if I believe I can do it, I will" spiel. I don't really know, because the woman is inconsistent in her messages.
I am also deeply uncomfortable with how flippant she is about feminism. Terms like feministy feminist aren't cutesy, and neither is putting up disclaimers about what narrow and convenient meaning of feminism suits this book the best. Feminism isn't a marketing tool.
I know I sound like I read this book to hate it, but I wanted to be wrong. The essential message seems to be that if you really believe in your dreams, you can achieve them. The moment life throws curve balls at you, however, all you need to do is trust in god's plan and wait. So you know, I don't really know. What I do know is that Hollis needs to do a significant amount of soul-searching before publishing again.
I know Hollis thinks that it is not important to listen to others' opinions, but I think that that's a dangerous way of living. She calls every negative reviewer a hater, which honestly reminds me a little of a small child throwing a tantrum. Or of a certain leader of the free world. Constructive criticism is good for everyone, and it would be especially good for Hollis, who wants to empower all women. To start with, she could listen to her audience. Not just the ones who sing her praises, but the naysayers as well. For another, she could try and understand that everyone has their own situations and histories to deal with, and it is not on her to sit atop her high horse and judge everyone else.
I want to change the world, she says, at one point. Listening to what the world wants is a good first step. I work a little in development, and one of the biggest mistakes that people who work in development make is not listening to those that benefit from said development and aid. For example, if I'm working with a small farming community in South Asia, it doesn't matter to them if I train all the women there to operate sewing machines. What does matter to them is, perhaps, if I'm able to give them better quality seeds, or state-of-the-art equipment. Of course, before I decide to do that, it's primarily important to talk to them, and listen to them. If they want better irrigation facilities, I can't say 'they're all haters and they don't care about all these sewing machines I'm giving them'. That would be a waste of both our times, and of my money. Similar is the case with audiences. If your audience wants something different, calling them haters and continuing to do the same thing because that's your dream is almost laughable.
A couple of months ago, I listened to Samantha Power speak. It was, without a doubt, one of the most inspiring speeches I'd heard in my life. She spoke about her time as a war correspondent, and about being a mother while, you know, being Samantha Power. A specific instance she mentioned was about how she influenced policy on Russia while nursing her child, on her couch, in her house. She joked about how her son now had a very special relationship with Putin. She is arguably one of the most powerful woman in politics and academia, and she was so very personable. My point being, that's what a motivational speaker should sound like, and I would assume this has something to do with what said speaker does. It is possible to speak about one's achievements without it sounding like 'look at me I'm so amazing and successful and the absolute best' all the time. What's more, it is a better way to get your message to stick.
It is very aggravating that Hollis does not understand this. The constant self-aggrandising, coupled with the duplicitous sugary-sweet way of talking about things only makes it worse. Constantly harping about how you're 'actually not glamorous, but like super nerdy, y'all' further adds to it. Hollis talks about how she wants to hold every woman by her shoulders and shake them till they believe in themselves or whatever. Every time she claims that this is actually her, not charming or classy, but someone who has failed and worked very hard (because she loves her job) and kicked butt, I want to do that to her—hold her by the shoulders and shake her. Her idea of 'failure' is not getting on the Times best-seller list the first week after Girl, Wash Your Face was released. I do not understand if that is hubris or delusion or something else entirely. In fact, it made me wonder if that was the sole purpose of publishing the book; getting on to the list.
The last memoir (and I use that word lightly in Hollis's context) I read was Tina Fey's. I mostly loved it, and a lot of it had to do with how humble and candid she was. It was both funny and instructive. It would do Hollis good to learn from those that came before her. Of course, I don't mean to take away from the media empire that Hollis has built, and I'm happy for her success, but she could learn a lesson or two about humility. I have no doubt that she is indeed hardworking, that she's an excellent wife and a mother. I definitely believe that she's a successful entrepreneur, this book's revenue being an excellent example of that. That does not a good self-help author make. That does not even a good author make.
*By women, she (and by extension, I, in this review) mean cis-women....more
An Afrikaaner talking about how the TRC in South Africa affected her and her white family borders on apologia. Not to mention it reeks of the white saAn Afrikaaner talking about how the TRC in South Africa affected her and her white family borders on apologia. Not to mention it reeks of the white saviour complex. That said, a start is a start, and there are some things that Krog says that actually do make sense.
However, it is also true that this is, in many ways, the seminal work on the TRC, and to a large extent, on post-Apartheid South Africa. I believe in giving credit where credit is due, and so the three stars. I could spend time arguing the banes of a truth commission, but that is a debate for another day....more
In the list of badass women on the planet, Carolyn Nordstrom is way up top. Her writings on shadow economies and gendered violence not only shed a refIn the list of badass women on the planet, Carolyn Nordstrom is way up top. Her writings on shadow economies and gendered violence not only shed a refreshingly warm light on a bleak subject, they inspire you to, you know, want to be Carolyn Nordstrom. Chapters of this book are required readings for me, for what has to be the most haunting (albeit also most interesting) class I will ever have to take, but Nordstrom just makes it a little lighter, a little brighter. I mean, I did read the full book, not just the required chapters. Says something, dunnit?...more
It's really difficult to review this book. There are various reasons for this; one, I'm usually terrible at reviewing biographies and autobiographies,It's really difficult to review this book. There are various reasons for this; one, I'm usually terrible at reviewing biographies and autobiographies, because part of me feels like I'm actually reviewing the person's life, and along with making me feel like I'm intruding, it also makes me question if I'm being more judgemental than I should be. Secondly, Tina Fey is easily one of the ten most extraordinary and hilarious people on earth. I'm a fan; I find her funny and incredibly smart. Thirdly, I have all these rules about what I should and shouldn't like about books, and while I do stray (a lot), I have to be fair to other books I've given four and five stars. So for that reason, even though Tina Fey is the queen of all things awesome, I'm being fair here and giving this book three stars. Now that I'm done with the rating, figuring out how to write a review has been more of an uphill task.
I do not like autobiographies. I'm a lawyer, and for reasons that are too boring to talk about here, I have read autobiographies of some lawyers, and for what may be very obvious reasons, I have found them to be excruciatingly bland. However, I picked this up because, well, Tina Fey. She could write the instructions for hemorrhoid cream and I'd pick it up. Bossypants was, in terms of the way it was written, the polar opposite of other autobiographies I had read. It was engaging and funny, and didn't make me want to burn it. Sadly, it was also the opposite to many autobiographies that I had read in that it was not particularly informative about the gory details of her life either. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed reading about her journey from an awkward kid to comedienne extraordinaire, but I didn't feel like I was reading a memoir. That said, it is hilarious, well-written, and has been one of the quickest reads for me this year.
All the humour apart, Fey lands in some hard-hitting life advice, especially for women who are made to believe that they can't have the best of both worlds. Her Rules of Improv could pretty much apply as Rules of Life. She lays down four rules: 1. Say YES, or be open minded. Don't reject ideas even before they are fully fleshed out. As an improviser, I always find it jarring when I meet someone in real life whose first answer is no. “No, we can’t do that.” “No, that’s not in the budget.” “No, I will not hold your hand for a dollar.” What kind of way is that to live? 2. Say YES, AND. Contribute to a discussion. It isn't merely about agreeing and letting the other person speak. To me YES, AND means don’t be afraid to contribute. It’s your responsibility to contribute. Always make sure you’re adding something to the discussion. Your initiations are worthwhile. 3. MAKE STATEMENTS. What she means is, don't only ask questions. Be assertive. Speak up. “Don’t ask questions all the time.” ... In other words: Whatever the problem, be part of the solution. Don’t just sit around raising questions and pointing out obstacles. We’ve all worked with that person. That person is a drag. ... MAKE STATEMENTS also applies to us women: Speak in statements instead of apologetic questions. ... Make statements, with your actions and your voice. 4. Most importantly, THERE ARE NO MISTAKES, ONLY OPPORTUNITIES. This right here, it's good life advice.
It is an impressively arrogant move to conclude that just because you don’t like something, it is empirically not good. I don’t like Chinese food, but I don’t write articles trying to prove it doesn’t exist.
Not that this is surprising, but Fey is incredibly astute in her observations about women and about being a woman in what is essentially a "man's world". She talks about how some of the sketch ideas were rejected, when she was in Second City, because the director of one of the shows thought that two women together wouldn't generate quite so many laughs. This made no sense to me, probably because I speak English and have never had a head injury. We weren’t doing Death of a Salesman. We were making up the show ourselves. How could there not be enough parts? Where was the “Yes, and”? If everyone had something to contribute, there would be enough. The insulting implication, of course, was that the women wouldn’t have any ideas. On the topic of women not being funny, she gives an excellent example about generalisation, and also, seriously, women are funny as hell. I don't think humour can be qualified or quantified by gender. Anytime there’s a bad female stand-up somewhere, some dickhead Interblogger will deduce that “women aren’t funny.” Using that same math, I can state: Male comedy writers piss in cups.
Fey is also very vocal about why it matters to look good on television. Not in a vain, "I'm the prettiest person" manner, but because as she says, television is visual. You need to look good on television if your message needs to reach a wider audience. It's show biz, plain and simple.
I will now spend a major chunk of this review listing some quotes about being a woman in imrov, and being a woman in general. Oh, and also about being a good person. 1. About being the boss: I’ve learned a lot over the past ten years about what it means to be the boss of people. In most cases being a good boss means hiring talented people and then getting out of their way. In other cases, to get the best work out of people you may have to pretend you are not their boss and let them treat someone else like the boss, and then that person whispers to you behind a fake wall and you tell them what to tell the first person. Contrary to what I believed as a little girl, being the boss almost never involves marching around, waving your arms, and chanting, “I am the boss! I am the boss!”
2. About the gross misrepresentation of periods in media, to. this. day: I had noticed something was weird earlier in the day, but I knew from commercials that one’s menstrual period was a blue liquid that you poured like laundry detergent onto maxi pads to test their absorbency. This wasn’t blue, so… I ignored it for a few hours.
3. About what it means to "be a woman": Almost everyone first realized they were becoming a grown woman when some dude did something nasty to them. “I was walking home from ballet and a guy in a car yelled, ‘Lick me!’ ” “I was babysitting my younger cousins when a guy drove by and yelled, ‘Nice ass.’ ” There were pretty much zero examples like “I first knew I was a woman when my mother and father took me out to dinner to celebrate my success on the debate team.” It was mostly men yelling shit from cars. Are they a patrol sent out to let girls know they’ve crossed into puberty? If so, it’s working. The more I thought about it, the more I realised this was true. Because the first time I realised I had grown was when I was around 12. It was also the first time I'd felt vulnerable in life. It was in a book exhibition that I loved going to, and my entire family was there. My entire family is ginormous. There were close 20 of us cousins (both first and second). And our parents and unmarried aunts and uncles and grandparents. Seriously, there was a lot of us, and if not for humanity, at least for the sake of self-preservation, one should've thought twice before touching me. I was wearing a yellow top and one of my first sports bras. And I felt something brush across my chest. Again. And again. I was terrified. I kept wanting to get out, and I felt too dirty about telling anyone, though I eventually did tell my mother. We did hand him over to the security, but let me tell you, that day, I realised I wasn't a "girl" anymore. She's right, we never do realise this in our moments of pride and joy; it's always in our moments of fear and danger.
4. About the perfect body, wanting it, craving it, and killing ourselves for it: This was how I found out that there are an infinite number of things that can be “incorrect” on a woman’s body. At any given moment on planet Earth, a woman is buying a product to correct one of the following “deficiencies”. I've always been curvy, so to speak, and I've been shamed enough number of times for not being thin enough for this to resonate resoundingly with me.
5. About being blonde, being hot, and "men being men": When I asked her why she didn’t like Snow White, she told me, “I don’t like her hair.” Not even three years old, she knew that yellow hair is king. And, let’s admit it, yellow hair does have magic powers. You could put a blond wig on a hot-water heater and some dude would try to fuck it.
6. About gay people: Gay people don’t actually try to convert people. That’s Jehovah’s Witnesses you’re thinking of. ... We can’t expect our gay friends to always be single, celibate, and arriving early with the nacho fixin’s. And we really need to let these people get married, already.
7. About being a good co-worker: That’s the main thing I learned in that job—how to be a considerate coworker. Cover the phones for someone so they can pee. Punch someone’s time card in for them after lunch so they can stop and buy a birthday card. Help people when their register doesn’t add up. Don’t be a tattletale.
8. About careers: This is what I tell young women who ask me for career advice. People are going to try to trick you. To make you feel that you are in competition with one another. “You’re up for a promotion. If they go with a woman, it’ll be between you and Barbara.” Don’t be fooled. You’re not in competition with other women. You’re in competition with everyone.
9. About equality in comedy: My dream for the future is that sketch comedy shows become a gender-blind meritocracy of whoever is really the funniest. You might see four women and two men. You might see five men and a YouTube video of a kitten sneezing. Once we know we’re really open to all the options, we can proceed with Whatever’s the Funniest… which will probably involve farts.
10. About "really must doing things": When people say, “You really, really must ” do something, it means you don’t really have to. No one ever says, “You really, really must deliver the baby during labor.” When it’s true, it doesn’t need to be said.
Tina Fey is brutally honest about aspects of her own life, her own show. She admits that 30 Rock, which I love, wasn't supposed to be a weird independent show. It was supposed to be the next Friends. But she is also happy to admit that being part of that quirky show changed who she is, and that she wouldn't change it for anything. You have to let people see what you wrote. It will never be perfect, but perfect is overrated. Perfect is boring on live TV, she says at one point, and it is solid advice. For the longest time, I was terrified of putting up my writing on public platforms. I was pathologically shy about everything I wrote, and scared to my eyeballs about being judged. I participated in a random poetry competition once where I made my friend post my poem under her name. And she did it because I could be persuasive when I wanted to be. And that poem won. I realised that day that someone may hate what you put out, but someone out there will always love it too.
Another important life lesson, which every successful person, including Tina Fey stresses on, is failure. And I mean, they aren't wrong. It doesn't do to wallow in that, you've just got to pick yourself up and go back to work. Some days aren't good days, others are. Yes, you’re going to write some sketches that you love and are proud of forever—your golden nuggets. But you’re also going to write some real shit nuggets. And unfortunately, sometimes the shit nuggets will make it onto the air. You can’t worry about it. As long as you know the difference, you can go back to panning for gold on Monday. But also, here's the thing about successful people. They've all had their struggles. Fey got rejected from three low-paying jobs before she found one that could support her improv lessons. She worked odd hours with creepy men and slightly annoying men and women, but she didn't quit. She may used some slightly less than moral ways to get that money (she used her college degree to her advantage so she could get a promotion her co-worker really wanted, it's not that bad guys), but she did it right, for the most part, and for that, she will remain one of the greatest comedians of this era, maybe of all time.
Fey is also unabashed in her accepting of the many, many (most of them minor and silly) errors of her ways when she was younger. How she wanted gays to stay in their "half-closet", because she was afraid of losing them as her friends. How she was catty about the girls who "stole her boyfriend". She made mistakes and she learnt from them. They weren't earth-shattering errors, but it is comforting to know that Tina Fey was as stupid as I was, sometimes. But learn from your mistakes, people.
The book is funny, and the advice is great. It's just not a memoir in its strictest sense. Or so I feel. Tina Fey is still a complete goddess.
P.S. I know this is the worst review I've written this year. Maybe ever. I apologise....more
Jetzt lese ich viele Bücher über Deutschland und das deutsche Volk. Ich lerne Deutsch am Goethe-Institut und es hat eine super Bibliothek mit etwas unJetzt lese ich viele Bücher über Deutschland und das deutsche Volk. Ich lerne Deutsch am Goethe-Institut und es hat eine super Bibliothek mit etwas unbekannt aber interessant Bücher. Dieses Buch ist offen und manchmal emotionell. Dieses Buch ist einen sehr gut Beispiel für Einwanderers Kämpfe nach dem Zweite Weltkrieg, obwohl es ist ironisch, dass ich das Wort „Kämpfe“ benutzen....more
Oranges is a comforting novel. Its heroine is someone on the outside of life. She’s poor, she’s working class but she has to deal with the big quesOranges is a comforting novel. Its heroine is someone on the outside of life. She’s poor, she’s working class but she has to deal with the big questions that cut across class, culture and colour. Everyone, at some time in their life, must choose whether to stay with a ready-made world that may be safe but which is also limiting, or to push forward, often past the frontiers of commonsense, into a personal place, unknown and untried. Winterson writes in her introduction to Oranges, and in this semi-autobiographical novel, that's the clincher.
Before Jeanette Winterson became one of the better known names in lesbian literature, she was a devout Christian, being groomed for missionary work by her deeply religious and very obviously Christian zealot of a mother. Before Winterson graduated from Oxford and began to teach writing at the University of Manchester, she was practically illiterate - home-schooled by her mother, and her education, limited to religious texts. Winterson writes her own story as a novel, as fiction, because, as she says, fiction is easier to accept than fact. And also, for whatever reason, fiction has a greater outreach, or so I believe. Fiction needs its specifics, its anchors. It needs also to pass beyond them. It needs to be weighed down with characters we can touch and know, it needs also to fly right through them into a larger, universal space.
The chapters in the book are divided as chapters are in the Old Testament; from Genesis to Ruth. In Genesis, as the Biblical Genesis talks about the Origin, or history of mankind, Winterson talks about the story of her origins and her history, her background - her adoption, her daily routine that came to be, and her involvement in the church. She talks about how she was groomed to be a missionary, and how that was the only life she knew. For her second chapter, which she calls Exodus after the Book of Exodus, Jeanette's mother is forced into putting Jeanette into a school - literally, a movement from homeschooling to regular schooling. In the Book of Leviticus, the essence is mostly preaching - it is about rituals and morality, and about staying true to Christian principles.
In Oranges, Leviticus plays quite the same role as in the Bible. In that, Jeanette's mother preaches about morality and religion and righteousness, while Jeanette talks about her mother's role in Church. Her mother also gives Jeanette instructions, advice on what she needs to do to fulfill her destiny as a missionary. One of the defining features of Numbers is the loss of faith in god by men, and their subsequent smiting. In Numbers, in a way, Jeanette perhaps starts losing faith in god. But more importantly, she loses faith in her mother for having lied to her. Just like the Israelis start doubting god for putting them through the tests that he did, subconsciously, Jeanette begins decoupling from the oppressive Bible herself, and for her, it starts by falling in love. With a girl.
Deuteronomy. Part 5. A large part of the Biblical Deuteronomy deals with the journey aspect of Moses's journey and the Promised Land. In Oranges, Winterson focuses on the act of travel and how it relates to the larger picture. About how it enhances curiosity and discovery. Winterson also talks about another kind of promised land; about discovery of new lands, and about those lost cities that inspire stories, cities like El Dorado and Atlantis.
In Joshua, Jeanette is exorcised for her "Unnatural Passions", and in Judges, her mother forces her to move out. The former perhaps has links to God instructing Joshua as it correlates to her demons instructing her, while the latter seems to draw from Israelis being oppressed by their kings, their judges; just like Jeanette is oppressed by her mother. In Judges, Israel is left to fend for itself after the events of the book, just like Jeanette is left to fend for herself after moving out. Ruth ultimately seems like a fitting end to this treatise because its eponymous book in the Old Testament remains among the most progressive of the Biblical books.
Oranges is a heartbreaking, yet hopeful story of a young girl who discovers that she is more than the oppressive, fanatically religious household she grew up in. Jeanette is severely oppressed by her fanatically religious mother and their equally fanatical community. A community that shuns people for having sex on a Sunday. A community that has taken upon itself to convert anyone who isn't a Christian. A community full of missionaries.
She had never heard of mixed feelings. There were friends and there were enemies. Jeanette's mother is a strong character, both in terms of her role in the book, and in Jeanette's life. Just, it's not a positive kind of strong. She's domineering and opinionated - while also being willfully judgemental and ignorant. She judged the poor for being too poor, and the rich for being too rich. Since so many people we knew went there, it was hardly fair of her but she never was particularly fair; she loved and she hated, and she hated Maxi Ball.
She spoke ill of her next door neighbours for having too much sex, and two random women because she suspected (rightly) that they were lesbians. She was just another religious fanatic waiting for the end of the world while forcing her views on everyone else. Her singular aim in life? That Jeanette become a missionary. We stood on the hill and my mother said, ‘This world is full of sin.’ We stood on the hill and my mother said, ‘You can change the world.’ Her husband was far more docile and easygoing, but for the most part, because he had no choice, and also knew that raising his voice was futile. Her husband was an easy-going man, but I knew it depressed him.
Since I was born I had assumed that the world ran on very simple lines, like a larger version of our church. Now I was finding that even the church was sometimes confused. This was a problem.
Jeanette's mother was, of course, a Creationist. ‘Did you hear that?’ she demanded, and poked her head round the kitchen door. ‘The family life of snails, it’s an Abomination, it’s like saying we come from monkeys.’ And I'm sure she did not believe in educating the people about sex. Her home-schooling of her daughter resulted in her daughter being woefully backward in class. Her religious views - in her daughter terrifying the living daylights of her classmates. Jeanette's essays were inspired by Hell and other Biblical phenomena, as were her projects. I felt terrible for her, because her mother's lifestyle, so to speak, made her not only friendless, but also the butt of all jokes in school. Over the years I did my best to win a prize; some wish to better the world and still scorn it. But I never succeeded; there’s a formula, a secret, I don’t know what, that people who have been to public school or Brownies seem to understand.
Jeanette's mother's faith, or rather, fanaticism went to the extent that she refused to admit her daughter to the hospital when she fell sick. And had to be persuaded (by that, I mean someone else got Jeanette admitted) to do so. In the hospital, as at home, Jeanette was given oranges to keep her energy up. Because oranges are the only fruit. Her friend Elise, old, eccentric, and surprisingly more open minded than Jeanette's mother kept her company. Elise was lovable, despite all. Elsie got very cross. She was an absolutist, and had no time for people who thought cows didn’t exist unless you looked at them. Once a thing was created, it was valid for all time. Its value went not up nor down.
Jeanette finds solace in books, and one day, quite by accident, as it always does, falls in love. With a girl. Of course, it doesn't sit well with the community, and she's exorcised before being kicked out for her 'sins'. She does odd jobs to support herself. She moves to a nearby city, but the questions plague her. Jeanette accepts herself for who she is, but doesn't renounce her faith, in that, she starts believing in a more abstract idea of god. Which, I'm agnostic, so I don't care, but it must have been a real task to reconcile that gap between who she was, who she is, and who she would become. I could have been a priest instead of a prophet. The priest has a book with the words set out. Old words, known words, words of power. Words that are always on the surface. Words for every occasion. The words work. They do what they’re supposed to do; comfort and discipline. The prophet has no book. The prophet is a voice that cries in the wilderness, full of sounds that do not always set into meaning. The prophets cry out because they are troubled by demons.
Oranges may seem very simple at its outset, but it has to it layers. The subtle Biblical references interspersed with the more obvious ones. The degrees to all the characters. Granted, they're based from facts, but the nuances, the layers to what is a very simple story, make this book spectacular.
Oranges is comforting not because it offers any easy answers but because it tackles difficult questions. Once you can talk about what troubles you, you are some way towards handling it....more
To understand why this book means to me as much as it does, it is important to do what Orwell does in the beginning of this book - go back to my childTo understand why this book means to me as much as it does, it is important to do what Orwell does in the beginning of this book - go back to my childhood. When I was eleven years old, and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I had one answer: "I don't know what I want to do, but I know I'll never work in politics." Oh, how wrong I was!
A combination of having to closely follow elections because my grandfather did, and watching Aaron Sorkin shows, primarily, however, piqued my interest in said field, the field I had refused to wade in. Indeed, there are a myriad of reasons why I study politics. There are, however, exactly two reasons for why I want to write about politics, and George Orwell is one of them. The other is Stephen Kinzer.
Orwell, throughout his book emphasises on one main fact: that all writing is political. And while that has not shaped my world view or what I write, I believe that it is the cardinal rule we need to accept before we write. Even if, unlike me, you don't write about why we should redefine human trafficking or something equally depressing. General fiction, plays, even thrillers and romance novels, are political. The politics of the writer has a way of seeping into the writing, and that's only a fact of nature.
The primary reason I think everyone should read this book is because Orwell practises what he preaches. The key to good writing, he explains is to keep it simple and stick to the point, and that is what he does. Why I Write is but a hundred pages long. Whereas other books on writing, written by other authors I admire, are at least 3 times the length. Why I Write is indeed the antithesis to all the political writing we see today.
Of course, I'm going to end my review here. It would be a disservice to the man if I waxed poetic about this book, when the crux of his advice is to do exactly the opposite....more
Persepolis (Greek: Περσέπολις Persépolis; "the Persian City" or "City of the Persians") was the ancient capital of Iran. Of course, now, quite like muPersepolis (Greek: Περσέπολις Persépolis; "the Persian City" or "City of the Persians") was the ancient capital of Iran. Of course, now, quite like much of Iran, the place is in a shambles. I love history. I wanted to be a whip-cracking, pyramid raiding archaeologist when I was a child. I used to pretend to be a classy history student in an elite university, and I used to painstakingly copy "notes" from the many encyclopaedias at home. Yeah, I was a weird, rather jobless child. So sue me. My point is, I was obsessed with history; I was especially fascinated by the Middle-Eastern civilisations - everything from Hammurabi's Mesopotamia to Nebuchadnezzar's psychotic break to the Turkish Caliphs to Osama bin Laden. I devoured, I inhaled it all. It was a dream for me to visit the ancient, splendid cities like Persepolis and Aleppo and Palmyra and Nimrud...and the rest. I wanted to admire the Gate of Xerxes and the Ishtar Gate, and the Hanging Gardens of Babylon (why the word hanging?). I nearly cried when I found out I couldn't. Little did I know back then, that as an adult, I would choose to be fascinated by the same regions again, but for different purposes. One of my college papers was on the Syrian crisis. I took a bunch of courses so I could better understand the highly volatile situation there. Then Palmyra and Nimrud were destroyed, and I don't know why, but that broke me. And then I read Persepolis, and it broke me, yet again, in ways I couldn't imagine.
I need to recollect my thoughts on this. Full review to come....more
EDIT: 26/03/2018 I just learnt that Sam and Dean from Supernatural were named after Sal and Dean, and I don't know what to believe in anymore.
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EDIT: 26/03/2018 I just learnt that Sam and Dean from Supernatural were named after Sal and Dean, and I don't know what to believe in anymore.
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ORIGINAL REVIEW:
ALTERNATE TITLE: White People Problems ALTERNATE ALTERNATE TITLE: How Many Girls is Too Many Girls? ALTERNATE ALTERNATE ALTERNATE TITLE: Do I Sound Smart Yet?
Why is this a beloved book? I read it for the second time because I thought I was too young to have understood it when I read it the first time. It turns out the book is still not good, and Jack Kerouac is still an asshole. For the past three days, I've been opening this edit box and closing it. Because honestly, I couldn't bear the thought of going through my notes, my notes filled with Kerouac's insipid, yet simultaneously aggravating thoughts. I mean, I did read this twice! Two whole times. That's a lot of hours I'll never get back. Nevertheless, I stopped procrastinating, and decided that like ripping a band aid, it's best I get done with this as quickly as possible. Because after this, I'm never touching this book again. Fuck this book.
There are books that I dislike because of the language. There are books that I dislike because they're too cheesy. There's books that I think are too good or too bad to be true and so I dislike them too. Then there are books like this that I dislike, because seriously, what the fuck was the writer thinking? It reads like nothing more than an ode to his superior intelligence, his friends' superior intelligence, and their collective "intellectual and sexual prowess". Fuck this book.
I really don't like stereotypes. I try consciously to not stereotype. But this book could only and only have been written by a White, heterosexual male. Actually, make that American, White, heterosexual male. I mean, anyone who says that the millennial generation is self-obsessed should be asked to read this book. Never have I read a book so complacent, so self-centered. Honestly, no one thinks Sal (Jack) and his friends are the pinnacle of intellectual evolution more than Sal and his friends. What makes it worse is Sal's constant undermining of his own intelligence, which very plainly looks like he's trying to talk about how smart he is without sounding like an idiot. Emphasis on "trying", because by god, does he fail miserably at it. Fuck this book.
It could've been funny, maybe even a little charming. But Kerouac all spends his time trying to build up this aura of intellect, only for it collapse on itself inelegantly. How anyone could idolise Dean Moriarty is beyond me. He is nothing more than a self-serving egomaniac (and nymphomaniac) who would probably pimp out his mother for a bottle of whiskey and a pack of Parliaments. The problem is, I've actually met people who're as bad, and the end result is nowhere as literarily perfect as it is in this book. Fuck this book.
Don't even get me started on the portrayal of the female characters in this book. Because there is no "portrayal", really. Despite his claims of having been with more women than I can count on my fingers, Sal's understanding of women is painfully pedestrian. On reading the description of the women in this book, I can only conclude that these characters were written by an alien ghostwriter who had a very vague idea of what women actually were. They are reduced to caricatures of what someone else must have described as "women". They're either whores or prudes. Easy or difficult. Hot or fat. In Sal, and in fact, his friends' eyes, women exist to satisfy their sexual needs. Worse still, women are okay with being reduced to mere sexual objects. Never have I seen a man so tone-deaf about what women are since Henry VIII created a new religion to satisfy his sexual appetite. Fuck this book.
I say in many books that it is me, and not the book. Here, it is the book. The combination of smug intellectual superiority, and utter and total disregard for anyone who isn't white, heterosexual, or male makes this book truly one of the worst I've read. There is the unnecessary glorification of criminal acts, of ruffians, of drugs, of addiction, of sex; gratuitous idolisation of people one really shouldn't be idolsing. Kerouac perhaps pulled off perhaps the world's greatest literary scam in getting this book published. It isn't great in any way. I don't even think it is truly representative of Beat Culture. Kerouac should've just stuck to naming the Beat Generation and left the writing to his friends. That is truly a better contribution to literature than this awful book. Considering this book a Great American Novel would be trivialising the contribution of America to the world of literature. FUCK. THIS. BOOK....more
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