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4.43 AVERAGE
4.43 AVERAGE
I listened to this on audio. I learned a lot. It was a good read as we hear into the mid term elections.
“I didn’t write too much during this election cycle. One of the reasons I didn’t is because I didn’t want to play this oracular role. There was no space to figure it out, to think about it, or go through the arguments if you’re writing. If you’re writing something critical about [Bernie] Sanders, then you necessarily want Hillary Clinton — that’s the only lens through which it’s interpreted. There’s no room to tease out, say, in my case specifically, what it means that the representative of the left tradition in the Democratic Party rejects reparations. No room to tease out what that means. But then what am I doing? I’m just making pronouncements. I’ve become, in the most vulgar sense, a pundit. I’m not open to having my mind changed, I’m not trying to figure it out; I’m not out here curious and exploring. I am standing on a rock, sitting on a throne, making pronouncements about what the world is. And that is so boring. It bores me to tears.”—Ta-Nehisi Coates, in conversation with Ezra Klein, Vox.
I have rarely read a writer so self-aware, so careful about parsing his standing in the world as an examiner, an interpreter, a citizen, a thinker, and, above all, a student, as Coates. Writing, as with any mode of self-expression, naturally carries the dint of hubris—you have to think of yourself as somewhat important, somewhat learned, more so than any who even slightly share your realm of interest. Those who write may think themselves as teachers, delivering a prosaic lesson plan, a transcribed lecture with eyewitness detail and no shortage of metaphor. But Coates insists on his writing as an act of studying, of learning, of urgently figuring out the world for himself alone. All good writers realize this, that their craft is as much about learning for themselves as it is whatever role they imagine themselves serving in the world.
Thus, any writer knows that looking back at past work is yet another form of learning as well, one that likely induces more wincing than the already painful process of writing. Coates does this for himself excellently and humbly in We Were Eight Years in Power chronicling his personal and professional development throughout the Obama era while exhibiting the unvarnished paper trail of his most famous essays in a natural, perhaps all-too-inevitable arc. The manner reminded me of an old collection of Gandhi’s religious writings I previously owned (ugh); an introduction to the set by the man himself noted that there would be inconsistencies in the views expressed throughout the series of writings, explained by the development of ideas over time.
Little of the material in We Were Eight Years in Power is new—even some of the supplementary notes were published online in various forms before they enclosed within the hardbound. But what Coates provides here is eminently valuable, not in the least because it offers up a bit of a dare in the virtual 21st century (what if you … paid for important journalism!), but because it looks back at several important essays from the retrospective context of our current national nightmare, also recounting Coates’ development as a writer and ultimately public figure, as it progressed throughout the two terms of the first black president. His retrospection is important in fitting these eight stories into an arc, into an overarching narrative that only confirms America's tragic history of embedded mythical exception premised on the denigration of black people, a hubris that will lead to its inevitable, all too tragic downfall, one that may already have been jumpstarted at this awful moment.
In giving additional context to his now-legendary essays, both through his personal life and the contours of the era, Coates helps us to understand his work even further, and by extension, the ever-relevant subjects he urgently discusses. This may seem like navel-gazing, and Coates admits as much. But the truth is that no piece of journalism, no matter how objective or distantly observed, can avoid being entrenched with the personal identity of the author. Coates understands this and is not shy in admitting how his life’s circumstances fleshed out and illustrated his work. Ultimately, the self-explanatory notes that accompany the essays are all the more enlightening because they are bleakly honest—much like Coates’ devastatingly written portraits of America.
Reading back through the essays in their order of publication should serve as an informative and reassuring exercise for writers of all ages and levels of experience. To go back through how Coates approached and chronicled events and figures of hefty sociological import when he first began writing for the Atlantic is to be momentarily startled at how much this exalted figure grew and improved over this eight-year span. If the first four essays—the early bookmarks of Coates’ Atlantic career—were him finding his footing and his place as an inquisitor of the world, the next four essays are the firm grounding, the unendingly curious college dropout turning his inquiry into an indictment of the ways this country has continued to treat those who the slaveholding Founding Fathers implicitly deemed unworthy. A couple of the early essays have certainly not aged well and read as clunky in retrospect, but Coates owns up to his flaws and includes the unedited essays as important steps in his process.
The last essays, of course, are the most harrowing and are difficult to revisit. It’s impossible to extricate their accounts from the detritus left as more people find their lens of American exceptionalism ground into brittle powder. To revisit the injustices that Coates so blew up for public view in his best essays is essential for remembering how behind we still are, and where we may perpetually remain. Coates is far from the only potent scholar interpreting the American situation for the ignorant yet curious—and he’s not even the best—but as one of the few with a highly prominent public status (a truth about himself he finds uncomfortable) it’s useful for us to revisit and reread the investigations that still play a not insignificant role in our modern sociopolitical discourse.
I have rarely read a writer so self-aware, so careful about parsing his standing in the world as an examiner, an interpreter, a citizen, a thinker, and, above all, a student, as Coates. Writing, as with any mode of self-expression, naturally carries the dint of hubris—you have to think of yourself as somewhat important, somewhat learned, more so than any who even slightly share your realm of interest. Those who write may think themselves as teachers, delivering a prosaic lesson plan, a transcribed lecture with eyewitness detail and no shortage of metaphor. But Coates insists on his writing as an act of studying, of learning, of urgently figuring out the world for himself alone. All good writers realize this, that their craft is as much about learning for themselves as it is whatever role they imagine themselves serving in the world.
Thus, any writer knows that looking back at past work is yet another form of learning as well, one that likely induces more wincing than the already painful process of writing. Coates does this for himself excellently and humbly in We Were Eight Years in Power chronicling his personal and professional development throughout the Obama era while exhibiting the unvarnished paper trail of his most famous essays in a natural, perhaps all-too-inevitable arc. The manner reminded me of an old collection of Gandhi’s religious writings I previously owned (ugh); an introduction to the set by the man himself noted that there would be inconsistencies in the views expressed throughout the series of writings, explained by the development of ideas over time.
Little of the material in We Were Eight Years in Power is new—even some of the supplementary notes were published online in various forms before they enclosed within the hardbound. But what Coates provides here is eminently valuable, not in the least because it offers up a bit of a dare in the virtual 21st century (what if you … paid for important journalism!), but because it looks back at several important essays from the retrospective context of our current national nightmare, also recounting Coates’ development as a writer and ultimately public figure, as it progressed throughout the two terms of the first black president. His retrospection is important in fitting these eight stories into an arc, into an overarching narrative that only confirms America's tragic history of embedded mythical exception premised on the denigration of black people, a hubris that will lead to its inevitable, all too tragic downfall, one that may already have been jumpstarted at this awful moment.
In giving additional context to his now-legendary essays, both through his personal life and the contours of the era, Coates helps us to understand his work even further, and by extension, the ever-relevant subjects he urgently discusses. This may seem like navel-gazing, and Coates admits as much. But the truth is that no piece of journalism, no matter how objective or distantly observed, can avoid being entrenched with the personal identity of the author. Coates understands this and is not shy in admitting how his life’s circumstances fleshed out and illustrated his work. Ultimately, the self-explanatory notes that accompany the essays are all the more enlightening because they are bleakly honest—much like Coates’ devastatingly written portraits of America.
Reading back through the essays in their order of publication should serve as an informative and reassuring exercise for writers of all ages and levels of experience. To go back through how Coates approached and chronicled events and figures of hefty sociological import when he first began writing for the Atlantic is to be momentarily startled at how much this exalted figure grew and improved over this eight-year span. If the first four essays—the early bookmarks of Coates’ Atlantic career—were him finding his footing and his place as an inquisitor of the world, the next four essays are the firm grounding, the unendingly curious college dropout turning his inquiry into an indictment of the ways this country has continued to treat those who the slaveholding Founding Fathers implicitly deemed unworthy. A couple of the early essays have certainly not aged well and read as clunky in retrospect, but Coates owns up to his flaws and includes the unedited essays as important steps in his process.
The last essays, of course, are the most harrowing and are difficult to revisit. It’s impossible to extricate their accounts from the detritus left as more people find their lens of American exceptionalism ground into brittle powder. To revisit the injustices that Coates so blew up for public view in his best essays is essential for remembering how behind we still are, and where we may perpetually remain. Coates is far from the only potent scholar interpreting the American situation for the ignorant yet curious—and he’s not even the best—but as one of the few with a highly prominent public status (a truth about himself he finds uncomfortable) it’s useful for us to revisit and reread the investigations that still play a not insignificant role in our modern sociopolitical discourse.
A wonderful collection of essays. . . our country would be much better if everyone read these. I really appreciate the author's historical knowledge. Our country needs a more fuller reckoning with race and this book is one strong step in that direction.
Flashes of brilliance, phrases I'd like to remember to use myself, powerful truth telling. A few ideas I didn't understand. I had read three of the essays previously published in the Atlantic and really enjoyed reading his later reflections on them, this is a great book for writers, especially writers about race and white supremacy. I started this book having him on a pedestal, and it humanized him for him. It also does the best job of describing who Barack Obama really is that I've seen.
If this book was just a collection of the essays, it would have already been great, but what really made the book worthwhile for me were the short pieces in between, detailing Coates' own life story and his development as a writer.
Compilation of 8 essays written during the Obama Presidency published in “The Atlantic”. Essays vary in content, depth and topic. Text includes an additional summary before each published essay and an epilogue (Trump election/early presidency.) Must read - and re-read given significance of topics and eloquence of author.
I just finished Ta-Nehisi Coates new book and it just made me angry and scared for the future of this country. Coates definitely hits home the sobering evidence of white supremacy evident in Donald Trump’s candidacy, and how his election when was primarily a result of having a black president.
But even more so, it was an eye-opening look back at how centuries of government policies and programs — from social security to fha loans to the gi bill to redlining to the war on drugs — have carried with them racist overtones and how they’ve compounded the gaps in housing, education, hiring, and incarceration.
I only docked it a star for being fairly dense in some sections, and repetitive in others. Regardless, it should be read in high school history classes and by anyone wanting a deeper dive into US politics.
I also really enjoyed the personal essays before the essay about how they came to be. Some of them were as enlightening, if not more, as the magazine pieces that became the breadth of this book.
But even more so, it was an eye-opening look back at how centuries of government policies and programs — from social security to fha loans to the gi bill to redlining to the war on drugs — have carried with them racist overtones and how they’ve compounded the gaps in housing, education, hiring, and incarceration.
I only docked it a star for being fairly dense in some sections, and repetitive in others. Regardless, it should be read in high school history classes and by anyone wanting a deeper dive into US politics.
I also really enjoyed the personal essays before the essay about how they came to be. Some of them were as enlightening, if not more, as the magazine pieces that became the breadth of this book.
I loved each of these stories - more, I loved his look back at them, his memories, his growth, his perspective on our country. There is never a time that I don't learn from him, that he doesn't force me to consider myself and my approach to the world. Exceptional.
Learned more here than any of my 17 years of formal education. It’s maddening how whitewashed our American history books are.
Admittedly, Coates’ writing is so... flourished? Elevated? Eloquent? His vocabulary and word usage is over my head in most of the book which is no fault of his - but I had to re-read a lot to digest his thoughts.
Admittedly, Coates’ writing is so... flourished? Elevated? Eloquent? His vocabulary and word usage is over my head in most of the book which is no fault of his - but I had to re-read a lot to digest his thoughts.
one aspect i particularly enjoyed about this text is that coates prefaces each of his previously published eight essays with his current take on them and their topics. and the perspective always offers an insight i found engaging, whether it be about his state of mind at the time, that he should have included more about the sexual assault accusations when writing about bill cosby, or why he thinks his writing is either strong and weak...
intelligent, perceptive, pertinent.
intelligent, perceptive, pertinent.