Review: We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy

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Review for "We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy" by Ta-Nehisi Coates (to be published on 3 October 2017)
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

Great book, I tell ya…

When I heard that Ta-Nehisi Coates was writing another book, I signed up to read it on NetGalley with lightning quickness. I also read his writings elsewhere such as The Atlantic, Twitter. Matter of fact, I’ll usually drop everything I’m doing to read Mr. Coates because his perspective and words on the most pressing issues of our time are impeccable.

If you aren’t reading Ta-Nehisi Coates then you probably should be. Like “Between the World and Me,” “We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy” is a searing testimony to the ongoing quagmire of race in the United States: to high hopes, to failed promises, to the uncertainty of what lies ahead. These are a collection of eight essays that appeared in The Atlantic (one for each of the eight years that President Obama was in office) with a short preface added by Coates before each, which give the reading more perspective and insight.

Do read this. It should be required reading in all schools and universities.

[Note: A free digital copy of this book was provided by the publisher and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.]

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Review: So Sad Today

Happy 4th! Currently sitting in my den, curled up with my pooch, watching b&w episodes of The Twilight Zone marathon on Syfy. 🙂

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Review for “So Sad Today” by Melissa Broder (2016)

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

*puts book down*

Alrighty then…

These essays revel in their TMI-ness. If you aren’t ready for pages and pages of Broder’s musings on vomit, shit, nose-picking, masturbation, and the particulars of just about every kind of sex imaginable, you probably aren’t ready for this book. For me, the overshare was a bit annoying (I skipped the vomit fetish essay, no thnx), but I did manage to find some gems here that I liked. Her essay on working for a tantric sex guru was hilarious, and the very last essay on her anxiety disorder was quite moving.

The problem here is that I can’t take this book seriously. For me, the intended shock value of these essays takes away from the seriousness of this book as a whole. Toward the end, when Broder drops the witty one liners and gets real about her afflictions, the book actually becomes (dare I say it?) interesting. It shouldn’t be that way. Or should it? Either way, I think I’ll stick with her poetry. Or just reading her tweets.

Meh.