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acsaper 's review for:
We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy
by Ta-Nehisi Coates
To try and put Coates into my own words seems like such a futile effort. This writing is so powerful, so informative, so beautiful, so comprehensive, and so moving. And, it's clear that, at least on some level, he knows this.
At first, I believed We Were Eight Years in Power was 'simply' a collection of Coates' Atlantic writings over the past decade. In one sense, it is. Including his essays on race, America, politics, history, the civil war, redlining, Jim Crow, policing, Obama, Michelle, Trump, whiteness, blackness, and the whole host of interrelated matters. However, it is not just these essays (if one can even appropriately use the term just to describe extraordinarily compelling longread non-fiction).
In between each chapter, or, as an intro to each, Coates reflects on where he was at the time while writing, how the piece emerged, and in many cases, his thoughts on the content or even context looking back. He talks about what pieces have held up, which have not. Which he would have written differently, and which he feels are timeless.
In presenting these memoir-like texts, the reader glimpses Coates the writer, not just Coates the commentator. And here I am perhaps most fascinated. After spending a decent amount of time talking about 'writing' with a close friend, and observing my brother developing a practice for the trade, I am so fascinated by what it takes and what it means to 'be a writer.' To let one's internal world pour out. To do so without inhibition. To express vulnerability. And, perhaps most importantly, to simply be honest.
Coates talked a decent amount about this phenomenon at the Miami Dade College talk a few weeks ago. How writing, or at least good writing, is inherently vulnerable. And, his vignettes make this clear. Sharing his thoughts and his worries. His financial and emotional struggle. His trying to find his place in the world of writing. And, trying not to lose himself as he does so. It must certainly be a funny feeling to write in relative obscurity and unrewarding poverty for decades, railing against the world that raised you and screaming to be heard. Only to suddenly, almost in the blink of an eye (but certainly not without years of toil) to have people on the street and in elevators recognize you, and, frankly, pay to see you speak. And, how?
The essays themselves are likely timeless pieces that can't help but keep their readers honest about the world in which we live. The additional writings bring the author's humanity squarely forward, presenting the complexity, difficulty, and incredible tenacity of someone who otherwise appears to simply have magically made it.
Loved the writing, loved the musings, couldn't recommend it enough.
At first, I believed We Were Eight Years in Power was 'simply' a collection of Coates' Atlantic writings over the past decade. In one sense, it is. Including his essays on race, America, politics, history, the civil war, redlining, Jim Crow, policing, Obama, Michelle, Trump, whiteness, blackness, and the whole host of interrelated matters. However, it is not just these essays (if one can even appropriately use the term just to describe extraordinarily compelling longread non-fiction).
In between each chapter, or, as an intro to each, Coates reflects on where he was at the time while writing, how the piece emerged, and in many cases, his thoughts on the content or even context looking back. He talks about what pieces have held up, which have not. Which he would have written differently, and which he feels are timeless.
In presenting these memoir-like texts, the reader glimpses Coates the writer, not just Coates the commentator. And here I am perhaps most fascinated. After spending a decent amount of time talking about 'writing' with a close friend, and observing my brother developing a practice for the trade, I am so fascinated by what it takes and what it means to 'be a writer.' To let one's internal world pour out. To do so without inhibition. To express vulnerability. And, perhaps most importantly, to simply be honest.
Coates talked a decent amount about this phenomenon at the Miami Dade College talk a few weeks ago. How writing, or at least good writing, is inherently vulnerable. And, his vignettes make this clear. Sharing his thoughts and his worries. His financial and emotional struggle. His trying to find his place in the world of writing. And, trying not to lose himself as he does so. It must certainly be a funny feeling to write in relative obscurity and unrewarding poverty for decades, railing against the world that raised you and screaming to be heard. Only to suddenly, almost in the blink of an eye (but certainly not without years of toil) to have people on the street and in elevators recognize you, and, frankly, pay to see you speak. And, how?
The essays themselves are likely timeless pieces that can't help but keep their readers honest about the world in which we live. The additional writings bring the author's humanity squarely forward, presenting the complexity, difficulty, and incredible tenacity of someone who otherwise appears to simply have magically made it.
Loved the writing, loved the musings, couldn't recommend it enough.