ocean vuong never fails to amaze... <3 one thing i really admire about his work is his grasp on structure. his control on the reader's ability to stop and start is masterful!!!
ocean vuong never fails to amaze... <3 one thing i really admire about his work is his grasp on structure. his control on the reader's ability to stop and start is masterful!!!
i really really enjoyed this. the writing is snappy, and the story itself is surreal & kafkaesque, right down to its humor. i think, ultimately, this was a very good meditation on childhood / loss of childhood, grief, and progress vs. stagnation. the way the past holds us back vs the way it moves us forward. short but left a very strong impression on me
i really really enjoyed this. the writing is snappy, and the story itself is surreal & kafkaesque, right down to its humor. i think, ultimately, this was a very good meditation on childhood / loss of childhood, grief, and progress vs. stagnation. the way the past holds us back vs the way it moves us forward. short but left a very strong impression on me
Added to list2025with 13 books.
Added to list2025with 12 books.
In this book, Khapaeva discusses the cultural change in celebrating and commodifying death and death-based aesthetics, such as vampirism and Halloween. She compares reception of these topics in America and Russia, using references and media from both as supplements to her point. While I disagree with the notion of humanity being inherently death-denying, a lot of her points had merit. Her view on humanism and how nonhuman entities reject human exceptionalism was interesting, as is the idea that this led to dehumanization and desensitization of human death.
However, I quickly lost interest when she began analyzing Harry Potter and its impact. While I can't doubt its cultural impact, I believe Khapaeva did a poor job at communicating its relevancy. Particularly troubling was the demonization of mental illnesses — specifically, the labelling of Harry as a “deranged maniac” after explaining his psychotic symptoms. Khapaeva argues that the demonization of these psychotic symptoms in “wizard culture” in the series means that it can't serve as a therapeutic tool in reality, which completely misses the idea that children seeing a protagonist be famed as a hero while still struggling with psychotic symptoms could be comforting. On a smaller scale, the usage of the outdated “multiple personality disorder” instead of “dissociative identity disorder” was telling. Generally, I thought this portion delving into Harry Potter's mental state was unnecessary and in poor taste, especially because the series should have been brought up solely due to its themes of death and how it affects humanism and human exceptionalism.
The beginning part is strong, and still has important information that I enjoyed reading through, but the section about Harry Potter should have been shorter than it is. Most of the information there was irrelevant at best and damaging at worst.
In this book, Khapaeva discusses the cultural change in celebrating and commodifying death and death-based aesthetics, such as vampirism and Halloween. She compares reception of these topics in America and Russia, using references and media from both as supplements to her point. While I disagree with the notion of humanity being inherently death-denying, a lot of her points had merit. Her view on humanism and how nonhuman entities reject human exceptionalism was interesting, as is the idea that this led to dehumanization and desensitization of human death.
However, I quickly lost interest when she began analyzing Harry Potter and its impact. While I can't doubt its cultural impact, I believe Khapaeva did a poor job at communicating its relevancy. Particularly troubling was the demonization of mental illnesses — specifically, the labelling of Harry as a “deranged maniac” after explaining his psychotic symptoms. Khapaeva argues that the demonization of these psychotic symptoms in “wizard culture” in the series means that it can't serve as a therapeutic tool in reality, which completely misses the idea that children seeing a protagonist be famed as a hero while still struggling with psychotic symptoms could be comforting. On a smaller scale, the usage of the outdated “multiple personality disorder” instead of “dissociative identity disorder” was telling. Generally, I thought this portion delving into Harry Potter's mental state was unnecessary and in poor taste, especially because the series should have been brought up solely due to its themes of death and how it affects humanism and human exceptionalism.
The beginning part is strong, and still has important information that I enjoyed reading through, but the section about Harry Potter should have been shorter than it is. Most of the information there was irrelevant at best and damaging at worst.
delicious, electric style; ozeki's documentarian past shines through her characters. every character feels real & whole, even the wives that are featured for only a chapter or two. especially love how, as jane's faith in the meat industry dwindles, her narration becomes more interested in people rather than recipes.
despite ozeki's good work, it left much to be desired. for one, with how many parallels are set up btwn jane & akiko, you would think they would have more than one paltry face-to-face conversation. same thing for akiko & the vegetarian lesbians. though, i am fond of how woman-centric the latter half of the book became post-des informational session.
the racial commentary, at times, feels pushed aside, especially regarding discussion on colorism. in ozeki's attempt to portray how black people are often pushed aside, she inadvertently pushes them aside.
otherwise, a thrilling exploration of wifehood & meat consumption
delicious, electric style; ozeki's documentarian past shines through her characters. every character feels real & whole, even the wives that are featured for only a chapter or two. especially love how, as jane's faith in the meat industry dwindles, her narration becomes more interested in people rather than recipes.
despite ozeki's good work, it left much to be desired. for one, with how many parallels are set up btwn jane & akiko, you would think they would have more than one paltry face-to-face conversation. same thing for akiko & the vegetarian lesbians. though, i am fond of how woman-centric the latter half of the book became post-des informational session.
the racial commentary, at times, feels pushed aside, especially regarding discussion on colorism. in ozeki's attempt to portray how black people are often pushed aside, she inadvertently pushes them aside.
otherwise, a thrilling exploration of wifehood & meat consumption
haunting parables about trauma, abuse, and power. i found her pieces about sexual trauma & exploitation (the embodiment & snare) to be the strongest of the entire collection. really enjoyable.
haunting parables about trauma, abuse, and power. i found her pieces about sexual trauma & exploitation (the embodiment & snare) to be the strongest of the entire collection. really enjoyable.