Beasts of Burden by Sunaura Taylor – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘How much of what we understand of ourselves as “human” depends on our physical and mental abilities—how we move (or cannot move) in and interact with the world? And how much of our definition of “human” depends on its difference from “animal”?

Drawing on her own experiences as a disabled person, a disability activist, and an animal advocate, author Sunaura Taylor persuades us to think deeply, and sometimes uncomfortably, about what divides the human from the animal, the disabled from the nondisabled—and what it might mean to break down those divisions, to claim the animal and the vulnerable in ourselves, in a process she calls “cripping animal ethics.”

Beasts of Burden suggests that issues of disability and animal justice—which have heretofore primarily been presented in opposition—are in fact deeply entangled. Fusing philosophy, memoir, science, and the radical truths these disciplines can bring—whether about factory farming, disability oppression, or our assumptions of human superiority over animals—Taylor draws attention to new worlds of experience and empathy that can open up important avenues of solidarity across species and ability. Beasts of Burden is a wonderfully engaging and elegantly written work, both philosophical and personal, by a brilliant new voice.’

Note: I read the French translation of the book. Cliquez ici afin de lire en français

Beast of Burden is a book written by the American writer and activist Sunaura Taylor, on the subject of ableism, where our society privileges the ones who are ‘able’ and there is the inherent feeling that those who are differently abled have less to add to the society. The author herself, suffers from a specific degenerative disease and is disabled.

In this battle for the rights for the handicapped, she finds the intersectionality with animal rights. She explains how the fight for the two are the same, as how animals too, are viewed by the society as ‘less intelligent’ than the able humans, and thus, have no guilt over mistreating or exploiting them.

It is a well-researched book, with several citations to justify all the arguments that she makes. Given that she is a vegan and also has a disability, there is a personal connection that she has with the subject that she has taken up, which I could feel in her writing. I also found the idea of the two issues being intersectional to be interesting, something that I had never thought of.

Considering that I am a vegan myself, like the author, I have wondered about some of the questions myself, about the conditions of employees in an abattoir – often from some of the most poor and vulnerable conditions in the society. She brings up how there is a vicious cycle, given these abattoirs have several accidents not because of animal behaviour but because of the speed at which the employees have to work, which often does render them handicapped.

Even though this was an interesting premise, and I had not thought about it this way either till I read this book, I am still unsure as to how widely this idea has been thought about and spread across either. This is because I do not see movements either for animal rights or for rights of the disabled seeing this intersectionality on a large scale to this date. Certain parts of the book were difficult to read, given she describes in detail, the suffering that the animals in farms go through and in my opinion, shocking people is not the best method to invoke a change in behaviour. Thus, I am not sure to who the target audience to this book was – I certainly enjoyed it but reaching me is like preaching to the choir.

To conclude, I would say that it was an interesting read, sometimes shocking and I award it a rating of seven on ten.

Rating – 7/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

Bonobo Sisterhood by Diane L. Rosenfeld – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘Foreword by Ashley Judd “Rosenfeld’s tour-de-force takes the power of female alliances to a higher level, giving us a road map for a new vision of women’s equality through the relationships and bonds we form among one another. The gift of this book is that it gives us hope.”—Valerie Jarrett, New York Times bestselling author of Finding My Voice , and former senior advisor to President Barack Obama The Bonobo Sisterhood is a revolutionary call to action for women and their allies to protect one another from patriarchal violence. Internationally recognized legal expert Diane L. Rosenfeld introduces us to a groundbreaking new model of female solidarity; one that promises to thwart sexual coercion. Urgent, timely, and original, The Bonobo Sisterhood harnesses the power of the #MeToo movement into a road map for sex equality in humans. Our closest evolutionary cousins, the bonobos have a unique social order in which the females protect one another from male aggression. The takeaway? Evolutionarily, bonobos have eliminated sexual coercion and enjoy a more peaceful, cooperative, and playful existence. We have much to learn from them. Rosenfeld explores the implications of the bonobo model for human societies and systems of governance. How did law develop to elude women’s rights so consistently? What difference does it make that we live in a patriarchal democracy? And what do bonobos have to offer as living proof that patriarchy is not inevitable? Most important, how can women break down barriers among themselves to unleash their power as a unified force? Rosenfeld has answers. The Bonobo Sisterhood takes us through real-life stories from the courtroom to the classroom and beyond, charting a new vision of a collective self-defense among women and their allies. It offers an action plan accessible to everyone immediately. This is an open invitation to anyone who wants to challenge the status quo. It starts with the power inherent in each of us knowing that we have selves worth defending, and awakening that power for ourselves and for our sisters. We now have a new model for real change, Rosenfeld reminds us. It’s time to use it. The Bonobo Sisterhood forges a path to create and discover a new meaning of equality, liberty, and justice for all.’

Bonobo Sisterhood is a long essay written by the author Diane Rosenfeld, on building an alliance of women, to protect themselves in the patriarchal set-up that we have today. She takes the example of bonobos, a primate species, very close to human beings found in central African. The author begins with the observation that bonobos are very matriarchal, and are protective of their female species, and often all other female bonobos come in defence of their ‘sister’ if a female bonobo were face an aggression from a male bonobo.

Thus, she makes the argument that the patriarchal setup we have – among humans or chimpanzees that we have is not inevitable among primates and another way is possible. She talks about the need for women to unite and form this ‘bonobo sisterhood’. She talks about real world examples of domestic violence and how these could have been prevented if they had this sisterhood.

This was an easy to read – feel good feminist literature. But to be honest, I felt the book had an interesting premise but is a piece of work with very lazy writing. First, the author assumes that the person the person who is reading the book is a cis-woman. For instance, I am a cis-man, who is sympathetic to the cause, supporting women’s rights and the feminist cause.  

She insists that the movement has to be a ‘woman only movement’. Most social changes – though the movements were led by people who were primarily affected by it – still needs allies from outside the core group, who support the cause because it is the right thing to do. LGBTQ+ rights were not supported just by that community, but even by people from outside, because they felt it was the right thing to do. Same for the ongoing protests for rights of the Palestinians, ethnic minorities in their respective countries, etc.

Moreover, there were aspects that she conveniently ignored several important subjects – such as, what is the position of trans-women in this sisterhood movement of hers? While she certainly spoke against racism, there are still several feminists who are trans-exclusionary (JK Rowling’s name appears very prominently).

And last, humans, though similar, are not bonobos. Even if I assume that the use of bonobos here was a metaphor, I still feel that it would have been far better to have picked up an example of such a society formed by humans, be it by some community in the past, or some community in the present – such as among the peoples who are indigenous to Amazon.

To conclude, I would say that this was an easy read, but again, I do not know whom she was targeting this at exactly, and if it was only to cis-women, in my opinion, that is the wrong approach and that is why, I award this book only a three on ten.

Rating – 3/10

Have a nice day
Andy

The Meursault Investigation by Kamel Daoud – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘He was the brother of “the Arab” killed by the infamous Meursault, the antihero of Camus’s classic novel. Seventy years after that event, Harun, who has lived since childhood in the shadow of his sibling’s memory, refuses to let him remain anonymous: he gives his brother a story and a name—Musa—and describes the events that led to Musa’s casual murder on a dazzlingly sunny beach.

In a bar in Oran, night after night, he ruminates on his solitude, on his broken heart, on his anger with men desperate for a god, and on his disarray when faced with a country that has so disappointed him. A stranger among his own people, he wants to be granted, finally, the right to die.

The Stranger is of course central to Daoud’s story, in which he both endorses and criticizes one of the most famous novels in the world. A worthy complement to its great predecessor, The Meursault Investigation is not only a profound meditation on Arab identity and the disastrous effects of colonialism in Algeria, but also a stunning work of literature in its own right, told in a unique and affecting voice.’

Note: This book is originally written in French and I read the French version. Cliquez ici afin de lire mon avis en français

Albert Camus’ ‘The Stranger’ is a well known novel. The Meursault Investigation is a novel from the Algerian writer and journalist Kamel Daoud, written as a response to Camus’ novel and starts with the phrase ‘Mother is still alive’, the exact opposite of ‘The Stranger’.

Raymond Meursault, the main character of ‘The Stranger’, killed an ‘Arab’ near Algiers, which was a relatively ‘minor detail’ in that novel and this Arab never had a name. Even though Meursault was sentenced to death, it was for a bizarre reason and not for having killed ‘an Arab’. Here, the author has given the dead man a name – Moussa, and his mother is still alive, and the story is narrated by his brother Haroun.

The plot explores the impact this incident has had on the family, especially Haroun where his mother is not ready to accept that her favourite child is dead, and he tries to cope with this trauma by binge drinking in bars around Oran.

I found the idea very interesting. I have often read novels that allude to other famous works but never a case where it is written as a response to an existing novel and give the other side of the story. There is also the fact that in our world where the Western culture is dominant, very often, even the names of the people from other cultures get submerged and I found that it was very powerful from the author to have given the ‘Arab’ a name. Behind every person killed by atrocities of a colonial regime, there was a bereaving family that was profoundly impacted, and the author showed this aspect of the novel very well. I read a bit of the author’s biography and I understand that he wants the stories of Africa and its people to be told by Africans and not by others – which I think is a good initiative.

When I was reading the book, I could find some sympathy for the character of Haroun, where he was desperate for the validation from the society at large or his mother and unfortunately, he had neither. However, the change he adopted in the final third of the novel made me quickly lose that empathy as well. Moreover, I felt the book was dominated by just one person. While I understand that he was the narrator, the conversations between him and his mother could have been more in detail by which I could have understood her as well, better.

To conclude, I enjoyed this read, it was a book in my shelf for a long time and I regret that I did not read it much earlier. I award the book a rating of eight on ten.

Rating – 8/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

The Power of the Powerless by Václav Havel – book review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘The Power of the Powerless (Czech: Moc bezmocných) is an expansive political essay written in October 1978 by the Czech dramatist, political dissident and later politician, Václav Havel. The essay dissects the nature of the communist regime of the time, life within such a regime and how by their very nature such regimes can create dissidents of ordinary citizens. The essay goes on to discuss ideas and possible actions by loose communities of individuals linked by a common cause, such as Charter 77. Officially suppressed, the essay was circulated in samizdat form and translated into multiple languages. It became a manifesto for dissent in Czechoslovakia, Poland and other communist regimes.’

Note: This book is originally written in Czech and I read its French translation. Cliquez ici afin de lire mon avis en français

The Power of the Powerless is an essay written by the former president of the Czech Republic Václav Havel, who was also an activist or civil liberties when Czechoslovakia was under the influence of the Soviet Union.

He starts by describing the present situation in the Eastern bloc, given the essay was written in 1985, before the fall of the Berlin Wall. He starts by explaining how a totalitarian regime operates, and also challenges the common Western perception that these were countries under a classical dictatorship where a person at the top of the system micro manages and takes all the decisions. However, he explains how the system has moved to a ‘post-totalitarian’ regime, where public obedience is automated through the institutions created by the regime. He takes an example that is easy to understand, where his local greengrocer has a signboard that said he supported the regime and shows how deep the tentacles of the system had reached, which forced the greengrocer to explicitly express support to function.

He also spoke of a solution, as to how, little by little, the system could be shaken, for instance, if the greengrocer removes this signs and other people start disobeying some of the automations created by the system – so that they can realise the importance of living with freedom, respect and dignity. He also spoke of the importance of finding a ‘second culture’ for such resistance movements, taking the example of jazz musicians in Poland, who had radical lyrics and had created their own cult of followers, which held create a disobedience movement there. He goes on to say how these small actions of the ‘powerless’ en masse, can bring about tremors in the system.

I felt the author gave a good context before starting the essay, and even though I am no expert of Czech / Slovak politics, I found the book easy to understand. For that, I also have the translator of my edition to thank, who had added notes wherever there were references to Czechoslovak personalities or movements during the 70s and the 80s. Many of the issues he raised are relevant even today, given how populism is making a comeback in Europe and other parts of the world and we need to keep in mind that the freedoms that we have today is not permanent, it would not be long before we fall into another ‘post-totalitarian’ system if we are not careful.

The postface written by Adrian Pabst, a professor of politics in the UK, evoked the same point, even though there were some points of his that I disagreed, wherein he equated the measures taken by various governments to curtail the spread of covid-19 as an example of totalitarian tendencies in present regimes, which is ironically an argument used by actual politicians with totalitarian views such as Donald Trump, Marine Le Pen or Nigel Farage.

I enjoyed my read and I felt his ideas were expressed very well, which does not surprise me given he was a playwright and poet by profession and thus, very good at communication. I also learnt a lot about the political history of the countries I love visiting as a tourist (Czech Republic and Slovakia). The book would be an easy read for anyone who likes following current news related to politics and to conclude, I would say this is a book highly recommended by me. I award the book a rating of eight on ten.

Rating – 8/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

Open Water by Caleb Azumah Nelson – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘Two young people meet at a pub in South East London. Both are Black British, both won scholarships to private schools where they struggled to belong, both are now artists -- he a photographer, she a dancer -- trying to make their mark in a city that by turns celebrates and rejects them. Tentatively, tenderly, they fall in love. But two people who seem destined to be together can still be torn apart by fear and violence.

At once an achingly beautiful love story and a potent insight into race and masculinity, Open Water asks what it means to be a person in a world that sees you only as a Black body, to be vulnerable when you are only respected for strength, to find safety in love, only to lose it. With gorgeous, soulful intensity, Caleb Azumah Nelson has written the most essential British debut of recent years.’

Open Water is the first novel written by Caleb Azumah Nelson, featuring a love story between two young black man and woman in the UK, the former being a photographer and the latter being a dancer. While the man is based in London, the woman is studying in Dublin and only gets to meet the ‘narrator’ occasionally.

The narration is done in an interesting manner – wherein, it is from the second person perspective and every time the narrator (the man) is referred to as ‘you’, it helps the reader to better put oneself in their shoes and imagine their perspectives. While we could read about inherent prejudices against a dark-skinned person in the UK, it was a different experience of oneself being that person, while reading this book.

That said, I also understood that the book is a tad autobiographical, given the author’s own British-Ghanian ancestry, with the narrator being a British man of Ghanian heritage as well. Moreover, the main character lives in Bellingham in South East London, similar to the author himself. Hence, reading the ‘about the author’ before starting the book can be a good idea.

There were also certain themes that were analysed – the intimacy between the two main characters and the doubts they had over the state of their relationship. Also, while there have been several books written about ethnic minorities facing discrimination, here, both the main characters were leading normal lives, while the author touched upon the subtle aspects of struggles of a black person in the UK, including the narrator having a traumatic episode which he does not wish to talk about.

The author adopted a poetic approach and between the two main characters, several of the conversations were interesting. Despite the small size of the novel, I would say this was still a slow read given you had to take your time to absorb all the contents of the book.

That said, this being a novella was an issue as well, given the author superficially touched upon many aspects but could never go deep. We know deeply about ‘you’, the narrator, but again, I would have liked to explore more on what event led to his trauma. The other character who had some level of mention was his partner, but we got to know very little about her as well. Maybe this could have been a longer novel but surely, this was a good start which encourages me to try other works of the author.

On that note, I award the book a rating of seven on ten.

Rating – 7/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

Talking to my Daughter by Yanis Varoufakis – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

'Why is there so much inequality?' asked Xenia to her father. Answering her questions in a series of accessible and tender letters, Varoufakis educates her to what economics and capitalism is and why it is so dangerous.

Taking from memories of her childhood and a variety of well-known tales - from Oedipus and Faust to Frankenstein and The Matrix - Varoufakis turns Talking To My Daughter into an enjoyable and engaging read, without ever shying from the harder truths. Greece's former finance minister explains everything you need to know to understand why economics is the most important drama of our times.

In answering his daughter's deceptively simple questions, Varoufakis disentangles our troubling world with remarkable clarity and child-like honesty, as well as inspiring us to make it a better one.’

Talking to my Daughter is a brief history of capitalism written by the former finance minister of Greece, Yanis Varoufakis. This is presented as him answering question of his teenage daughter currently living in Australia, as to why there is so much inequality in the world, and explains capitalism and economics in a way in which she, and a lot of others without a background in economics could understand.

The author begins this like any other standard economics book talking about how the early societies used barter, and the eventual invention of agriculture which created a need for a medium of exchange and also laws related to land ownership. The author tries to address several problems including social, historical and economic problems, where he starts by answering why the Australian aborigines did not go about colonising Europe. I would not evaluate the anthropological merits of his argument, but he brings it down to the economy, how Europe’s creation of surplus demanded a constant need for more markets and more people to sell. He then goes on to explain several present-day situations – such as debt, and also the question of unemployment.

I must give the disclaimer that how one is going to receive the book is largely going to depend on the political convictions of an individual and I would disclose that Yanis Varoufakis is someone whom I agree with more than I disagree.

To me, I felt the book was structured well, which is something that most could agree on regardless of one’s political alignment – given how it talked about how society was initially structured, some of the most basic problems we face, how the markets are formed, and also other crises like unemployment (and challenging the very idea that some consider this to be a ‘myth’). There were also several very well-known references to Greek mythology and also famous films such as The Matrix. That said, given that this is an English translation, and though the examples would be very evident to a Western audience, I think the translator should have added footnotes to some of the references given works in English are also read even outside the anglosphere.

Moreover, I find personally as an economics graduate and finance professional, that some of what he explains are the same problems that populists fall under – especially his explanation of the central bank – that one tries to oversimplify an actually complex concept (such as monetary easing for instance or banks creating ‘value out of thin air’) and discredit the whole system altogether. One could have a reasonable debate on the validity of such a system or whether it needs a total overhaul as is suggested by the author but oversimplification might not convey the message that is intended.

To conclude, this book is a decent start to those who wish to learn more about the economy and the evolution and criticism of capitalism. However, certain concepts that are complex, need not have been touched upon rather than giving a misleading and oversimplified version. On that note, I award the book a rating of six on ten.

Rating – 6/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

All is Silence by Manuel Rivas – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘Fins and Brinco are best friends, and they both adore the wild and beautiful Leda. The three young friends spend their days exploring the dunes and picking through the treasures that the sea washes on to the shores of Galicia. One day, as they are playing in the abandoned school on the edge of the village, they come across treasure of another kind: a huge cache of whisky hidden under a sheet. But before they can exploit their discovery a shot rings out, and a man wearing an impeccable white suit and panama hat enters the room. That day they learn the most important lesson of all, that the mouth is for keeping quiet.’

Note: The book is originally in Galician, I read its French translation. Cliquez ici pour lire mon avis en français

All is Silence is a Galician novel from the Spanish author Manuel Rivas, who is known for promoting works of literature in Galician. In this book, he tells the story of a small village in Galicia called Noitia, which is under the control of the patriarch of the village – Mariscal; who controls the village’s contraband economy.

The story starts by recalling the friendship between three youngsters – Fins, Leda and Brinco and follows their path of growing up. Leda and Brinco follow the patron of the village Mariscal by entering the drug trade whereas Fins becomes a police officer. The story focuses on the change in their life and the change in the village and Galicia at large given the impact of globalisation, including in the drug trade.

The description of the Galician landscape by the author was beautiful, and also thanks to the cover of the French edition that I had (attached in this review), I could visualise the village of Noitia, the city of La Coruña, the mountains and the sea. The author also used several allusions, from Latin, French, Greek and also some Galician folktales adding a poetic aspect to the writing.

Despite the good writing and my journey through Galicia through his words, a novel needs a plot to save itself. It is not often that I read 295 pages and at the end of it, I did not quite understand the story that the author wanted to tell through this book. Manuel Rivas started by describing the village and the three teenagers, introduced several characters immediately without giving me time to absorb or understand any of them. I must say that the write-up by my French publisher was excellent which immediately made me curious to read the book, given it was an interesting premise with three close friends from childhood, choosing a radically different path in a changing world.

We are given to know that Fins is a police officer but throughout the plot, we never saw him carry out any investigation or even ask questions; just took a few photos which had no impact on the plot. I got the impression that Fins, Leda and Brinco were the main characters but the book had the overwhelming presence of Mariscal all over.

In any novel, the author tries to create a world and bring the reader into this world. However, I found that Manuel Rivas kept the door locked and kept the keys to himself that I could never enter this world. I would have liked to extend a benefit of doubt, as to how much was lost in translation, however, it is difficult for me to justify such a benefit of doubt given I can understand losing certain nuances but not the whole plot altogether.

To conclude, it was a cumbersome read, which was still a well written novel, just without any story to tell. I award the book a rating of four on ten.

Rating – 4/10

Have a nice day,
Andy