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A review by philipkenner
How to Start a Revolution: Young People and the Future of American Politics by Lauren Duca
3.0
What follows are some conflicting thoughts on Lauren Duca’s new book:
1) This is an accessible, funny, and engaging call to action for Americans of all walks of life, specifically young people. This book is a valiant and earnest step towards a more engaged citizenry.
And yet,
2) Lauren Duca consistently undermines herself by making repetitive jokes, using gratuitous expletives, and at times, mentioning she tweets while high. She then justifies these editorial decisions by claiming they don’t follow the “secret” or “insider” respectability politics of being a journalist. To this point, I say: “Sure! Screw the rules! Use your unique voice! Be frank!” But then, this feeling of performance lingers. Why is she cursing so much? I’d like to think I curse a good deal in my walking life and am not squeamish when others do it, so why did Lauren’s use of “fuck” and “bullshit” bother me so much? It felt like she was making an argument for her legitimacy as a political writer while simultaneously apologizing by using lazy diction. “Fuck” doesn’t make a writer sound like they’re edgy; it makes them sound like they ran out of words. Maybe I’m being picky. Maybe I wish she took herself and her topic a little more seriously.
———————————
3) This book has a nuanced understanding of racial and gender politics. It unpacks invisible political structures that limit our ability to exercise our rights. She clearly outlines what an oligarchy is and how we’re living in one. If this is someone’s first time reading that term and understanding its accuracy as a label for our political system, then Duca has done her job beautifully. We don’t need the flashiest take down of the “political-industrial-complex;” we simply need to be made aware of it.
And yet,
4) I got the sense that Duca is only paying lip service to folks of color in an effort to seem “woke,” a word which Duca, a white woman, uses without irony a few times. It’s a little cringe inducing. Again, maybe I’m being too critical. However, it feels like there were a few more stings that could have been pulled; the book would have benefited from a deeper look at why political engagement for disenfranchised communities can be met with institutional discrimination, police violence, deportation, you name it. One of Duca’s consistent points can be summed up as: “Get involved!” But, she doesn’t quite go deep enough as to why participation in protests, riots, boycotts, even local elections can be a very high stakes situations for folks of color.
———————————
Okay, last two:
5) This book is intended for pre-teens, teenagers, and young adults. It succeeds with its audience when making easy to follow yet critically sound arguments about systems of oppression.
And yet,
6) As clear as the intended audience may be, I kept asking myself while reading, “Who is this for???” The constant cursing made it feel like it was supposed to be for teens, but I don’t know if teens want cursing in their political literature so much as they just like the freedom to use it in their everyday life. The easy to follow concept definitions made it feel like it was for Jr. High audience, yet the jokes about getting high caution me to hand this to any 11-year-old (not because they should fear weed or stigmatize its use, but because this is book isn’t a great first impression if you’re hoping to encourage informed, responsible drug use).
Overall, I enjoyed the book and think it’s a noble call to action. I found parts of it to undermine its own mission, which frustrated me. I recommend it if you’re looking for a saucy pep talk to get involved in local politics and organizing.
1) This is an accessible, funny, and engaging call to action for Americans of all walks of life, specifically young people. This book is a valiant and earnest step towards a more engaged citizenry.
And yet,
2) Lauren Duca consistently undermines herself by making repetitive jokes, using gratuitous expletives, and at times, mentioning she tweets while high. She then justifies these editorial decisions by claiming they don’t follow the “secret” or “insider” respectability politics of being a journalist. To this point, I say: “Sure! Screw the rules! Use your unique voice! Be frank!” But then, this feeling of performance lingers. Why is she cursing so much? I’d like to think I curse a good deal in my walking life and am not squeamish when others do it, so why did Lauren’s use of “fuck” and “bullshit” bother me so much? It felt like she was making an argument for her legitimacy as a political writer while simultaneously apologizing by using lazy diction. “Fuck” doesn’t make a writer sound like they’re edgy; it makes them sound like they ran out of words. Maybe I’m being picky. Maybe I wish she took herself and her topic a little more seriously.
———————————
3) This book has a nuanced understanding of racial and gender politics. It unpacks invisible political structures that limit our ability to exercise our rights. She clearly outlines what an oligarchy is and how we’re living in one. If this is someone’s first time reading that term and understanding its accuracy as a label for our political system, then Duca has done her job beautifully. We don’t need the flashiest take down of the “political-industrial-complex;” we simply need to be made aware of it.
And yet,
4) I got the sense that Duca is only paying lip service to folks of color in an effort to seem “woke,” a word which Duca, a white woman, uses without irony a few times. It’s a little cringe inducing. Again, maybe I’m being too critical. However, it feels like there were a few more stings that could have been pulled; the book would have benefited from a deeper look at why political engagement for disenfranchised communities can be met with institutional discrimination, police violence, deportation, you name it. One of Duca’s consistent points can be summed up as: “Get involved!” But, she doesn’t quite go deep enough as to why participation in protests, riots, boycotts, even local elections can be a very high stakes situations for folks of color.
———————————
Okay, last two:
5) This book is intended for pre-teens, teenagers, and young adults. It succeeds with its audience when making easy to follow yet critically sound arguments about systems of oppression.
And yet,
6) As clear as the intended audience may be, I kept asking myself while reading, “Who is this for???” The constant cursing made it feel like it was supposed to be for teens, but I don’t know if teens want cursing in their political literature so much as they just like the freedom to use it in their everyday life. The easy to follow concept definitions made it feel like it was for Jr. High audience, yet the jokes about getting high caution me to hand this to any 11-year-old (not because they should fear weed or stigmatize its use, but because this is book isn’t a great first impression if you’re hoping to encourage informed, responsible drug use).
Overall, I enjoyed the book and think it’s a noble call to action. I found parts of it to undermine its own mission, which frustrated me. I recommend it if you’re looking for a saucy pep talk to get involved in local politics and organizing.