Maura (maura853) -
Helpful Score: 1
Fascinating and frustrating. Frustrating won.
This is a book that suddenly got interesting -- but not that interesting -- around page 100. That may not sound too bad, until you remember that there are only 192 pages of real text. This may be a bit of a spoiler, if you want to experience this book "cold," but for about 100 pages the author is lying to you: about the subject of the book, about her reasons for writing it, about why you should be reading it. And then, around page 100, the truth begins to emerge -- the truth about the subject, who up to that point has seemed worthy but very, very dull (when he isn't being smug and annoying), and the truth about why his crimes and misdemeanors might be important ... And then, if anything, the book becomes even less interesting, and harder to tolerate.
There is a fashion, at the moment, for "memoir by stealth." Books which appear to be about some interesting topic, but gradually are revealed to be all about The Author. The author moans and whines, and splices in Poor Little Me paragraphs whatever he or she or they can. The Reader (who only wanted to learn about bees or fish or whatever) groans and skims, and (if The Reader is ME) gets increasingly testy.
Miller treats the story of David Starr Jordan -- his life, his research, and his dark sideline as spokesman and cheerleader for American eugenics, and all the evils that were perpetrated in its name -- as an extended metaphor for her own mental health problems, and struggles with her sexuality. And I don't believe it for one minute. Miller asks us to believe that she knew enough to admire Jordan, and could adopt him as an example of resilience and triumph over personal and professional tragedy ... but only "discovered" belated -- oh the shock, oh the horror! -- that he held repugnant views that resulted in misery and death for innocent, vulnerable people. I just don't believe it: it feels like a misguided and clunky effort to manufacture the non-fiction equivalent of a plot twist.
This may be a case of, "you'll like this, if this is the sort of thing you like ..." I don't, and I didn't ...
This is a book that suddenly got interesting -- but not that interesting -- around page 100. That may not sound too bad, until you remember that there are only 192 pages of real text. This may be a bit of a spoiler, if you want to experience this book "cold," but for about 100 pages the author is lying to you: about the subject of the book, about her reasons for writing it, about why you should be reading it. And then, around page 100, the truth begins to emerge -- the truth about the subject, who up to that point has seemed worthy but very, very dull (when he isn't being smug and annoying), and the truth about why his crimes and misdemeanors might be important ... And then, if anything, the book becomes even less interesting, and harder to tolerate.
There is a fashion, at the moment, for "memoir by stealth." Books which appear to be about some interesting topic, but gradually are revealed to be all about The Author. The author moans and whines, and splices in Poor Little Me paragraphs whatever he or she or they can. The Reader (who only wanted to learn about bees or fish or whatever) groans and skims, and (if The Reader is ME) gets increasingly testy.
Miller treats the story of David Starr Jordan -- his life, his research, and his dark sideline as spokesman and cheerleader for American eugenics, and all the evils that were perpetrated in its name -- as an extended metaphor for her own mental health problems, and struggles with her sexuality. And I don't believe it for one minute. Miller asks us to believe that she knew enough to admire Jordan, and could adopt him as an example of resilience and triumph over personal and professional tragedy ... but only "discovered" belated -- oh the shock, oh the horror! -- that he held repugnant views that resulted in misery and death for innocent, vulnerable people. I just don't believe it: it feels like a misguided and clunky effort to manufacture the non-fiction equivalent of a plot twist.
This may be a case of, "you'll like this, if this is the sort of thing you like ..." I don't, and I didn't ...
