Book Review: We Were Eight Years in Power
Sep. 24th, 2017 05:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
osprey_archerTa-Nehisi Coates' We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy is a depressing book, not because Coates is a pessimist - although Coates is in fact deeply pessimistic - but because, confirmed pessimist though he is, he still wasn't pessimistic enough to believe that Trump could actually win the presidency.
Also, the book is a collection of essays from the Obama era, and just reading them drives home what a different world when live in now. Remember when you didn't have to brace yourself for every single news cycle? When you could be cautiously optimistic that change might be change for the better, rather than bitterly aware that any change will almost certainly be for the worse and the best we can possibly hope for is that nothing changes at all? When the president didn't communicate mainly in the form of embarrassing tweets?
Yeah, I try to block that time out of my mind too. The contrast to today is too painful.
If you can withstand the pain, however, this is a good and thought-provoking book. One thing that has stuck with me (during the month that I have procrastinated in writing this review because of the aforementioned misery factor) is Coates' repeatedly reference to a strand in black conservative thought that looks back nostalgically on segregation, not because segregation per se was so wonderful but because (according to this strand of thought; Coates has doubts that this nostalgia is founded in reality) it's seen as a time of strong community bonds, when outside hostility forced the community to really work together and look out for itself etc. etc.
It reminds me of a bit in Sebastian Junger's book Tribe, when he mentions some recent graffiti in, IIRC, Kosovo: "Things were better when they were really bad." As in, things were better in the old days when we were trapped in a terrible war, because at least then the enemy was outside, and we were all working together within. (I have no idea how well this reflects the objective reality of wartime Kosovo, mind; human memory is malleable.)
It's just striking to me that humans find connection and togetherness so important that these things will, at least in memory, become the most important aspect of a horrible situation. Nothing bonds people like enduring adversity together.
Also, the book is a collection of essays from the Obama era, and just reading them drives home what a different world when live in now. Remember when you didn't have to brace yourself for every single news cycle? When you could be cautiously optimistic that change might be change for the better, rather than bitterly aware that any change will almost certainly be for the worse and the best we can possibly hope for is that nothing changes at all? When the president didn't communicate mainly in the form of embarrassing tweets?
Yeah, I try to block that time out of my mind too. The contrast to today is too painful.
If you can withstand the pain, however, this is a good and thought-provoking book. One thing that has stuck with me (during the month that I have procrastinated in writing this review because of the aforementioned misery factor) is Coates' repeatedly reference to a strand in black conservative thought that looks back nostalgically on segregation, not because segregation per se was so wonderful but because (according to this strand of thought; Coates has doubts that this nostalgia is founded in reality) it's seen as a time of strong community bonds, when outside hostility forced the community to really work together and look out for itself etc. etc.
It reminds me of a bit in Sebastian Junger's book Tribe, when he mentions some recent graffiti in, IIRC, Kosovo: "Things were better when they were really bad." As in, things were better in the old days when we were trapped in a terrible war, because at least then the enemy was outside, and we were all working together within. (I have no idea how well this reflects the objective reality of wartime Kosovo, mind; human memory is malleable.)
It's just striking to me that humans find connection and togetherness so important that these things will, at least in memory, become the most important aspect of a horrible situation. Nothing bonds people like enduring adversity together.
no subject
Date: 2017-09-24 10:11 pm (UTC)A friend told me how one of her friends who lives in a rural area came to visit her in Chicago recently for the first time in a few years, and remarked on how the entire place seemed more...subdued. Not depressed, exactly, but there was a tangible atmosphere of dread that wasn't there when she visited during the Obama years. And I was surprised, and then surprised at my surprise - the day after the election was rough, here. It was like 9/11 - people were hugging each other in the streets, conversations were subdued or bleakly humorous, and everyone kind of had that thousand-yard stare they get when they're not sure what's coming, but it's not anything good. We've picked ourselves back up and are functioning now, but while I hadn't consciously noticed it myself, I can totally see how things are quieter than before, as we all wait to see what the next disaster will be to come down the pipe.
no subject
Date: 2017-09-25 01:18 pm (UTC)Possibly the peril is not immediately deadly enough to have this bonding effect, though. Or the fact that the enemy is inside the house will counteract that effect - maybe it only works if everyone is pulling together to defeat an outside enemy.
no subject
Date: 2017-09-25 01:35 pm (UTC)