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A review by seahorsemojinow
Known and Strange Things: Essays by Teju Cole
4.0
I finished this on the ride home from the airport, so even though I didn't slide this one in 2019, I still finished it before the 'holiday' was over, which was my overall goal!
Gotta be honest, the first half of the book was hard to get through. I appreciated Cole's appreciation for beauty, and I was glad of what I read, but after a long period of reading the book I just was never seeming to look forward to the next bite. His words, messages, and storytelling were all good - but very complete in themselves, and uncompelling in their urge to read more.
But by the second half of the book, I was way more engaged. I think part of it was that I needed to get used to Cole, himself, and the space he occupies in the stories he tells. He intentionally, self-consciously, fills up the spaces in his narratives with himself because that is how he sees stories, and I think that is incredibly admirable, as well as just effective - in both narration and photography. But it did mean that I needed to spend some time getting to like Cole himself, which is not a way that I naturally feel towards most authors.
The later essays, though, were extremely entrancing. The ones about photography were not the most interesting to me, as someone who isn't particularly moved by that medium, but even still I was charmed by Cole's exploration of the craft, ruminations on art, and poetic deconstructions. And I was so taken in by the essays on politics, especially as they provided a window into a different time, different moment, different space than I could ever hope to understand inhabiting, and in the come-up to this fucking election, a lot of it was really heartening to read (surprisingly). It was comforting to hold the hand of someone speaking from 8, 10, 12 years ago, dealing with pressing, scary issues and learning how to live through them.
The reflections on torture, imperialism, and genocide were truly some of the best writing on the subject I've ever encountered. Heartbreaking, validating, inspiring. One of the best things Cole does is hold out grief in his hands and make you wonder at how the weight of it feels.
Two quick notes - as a Gay, wasn't quite convinced that he really knew what he was talking about when it came time for him to talk about LGBT+ people. There was a use of the word "tr*nsvest*te," which was totally unnecessary, and flattening. I think he only had the best of intentions, but it was one aspect that alienated me just slightly.
Gotta be honest, the first half of the book was hard to get through. I appreciated Cole's appreciation for beauty, and I was glad of what I read, but after a long period of reading the book I just was never seeming to look forward to the next bite. His words, messages, and storytelling were all good - but very complete in themselves, and uncompelling in their urge to read more.
But by the second half of the book, I was way more engaged. I think part of it was that I needed to get used to Cole, himself, and the space he occupies in the stories he tells. He intentionally, self-consciously, fills up the spaces in his narratives with himself because that is how he sees stories, and I think that is incredibly admirable, as well as just effective - in both narration and photography. But it did mean that I needed to spend some time getting to like Cole himself, which is not a way that I naturally feel towards most authors.
The later essays, though, were extremely entrancing. The ones about photography were not the most interesting to me, as someone who isn't particularly moved by that medium, but even still I was charmed by Cole's exploration of the craft, ruminations on art, and poetic deconstructions. And I was so taken in by the essays on politics, especially as they provided a window into a different time, different moment, different space than I could ever hope to understand inhabiting, and in the come-up to this fucking election, a lot of it was really heartening to read (surprisingly). It was comforting to hold the hand of someone speaking from 8, 10, 12 years ago, dealing with pressing, scary issues and learning how to live through them.
The reflections on torture, imperialism, and genocide were truly some of the best writing on the subject I've ever encountered. Heartbreaking, validating, inspiring. One of the best things Cole does is hold out grief in his hands and make you wonder at how the weight of it feels.
Two quick notes - as a Gay, wasn't quite convinced that he really knew what he was talking about when it came time for him to talk about LGBT+ people. There was a use of the word "tr*nsvest*te," which was totally unnecessary, and flattening. I think he only had the best of intentions, but it was one aspect that alienated me just slightly.