lifeinpoetry's review
I got fed up with this collection during the essay 'No Homo' (it's seriously called that). This collection had already fallen short when it came to sexuality (and feminism) so after that essay I decided to put it aside.
rwarner's review against another edition
5.0
It's the middle of the protests following George Floyd's murder. I'm seeing book titles on Twitter that white people should read. John Amaechi retweets a pic of four books, so I screenshot it. White Fragility. Between the World and Me. Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting in the Cafeteria?. Natives. I get on Amazon, buy some, but some are sold out. I go to my local Barnes and Noble. Sold out as well. I see this book on a table next to Just Mercy. Looks interesting. Informative. So I pick it up. I know I'll be scolded. I know I'll read things I won't want to hear. Things that will make me shift in my seat a little and silently protest, "C'mon, man! It's not ALL of us!" I can't really claim to believe that Black Lives Matter, though, unless I listen. Hear hard truths. Challenge my complacency and biases. I get home, take a deep, square my shoulders, and start reading.
In minutes, I'm laughing. Out loud. The way only Bill Bryson or David Sedaris makes me laugh. Shoulders bouncing, bed shaking, my wife rolling her eyes and about to tell me to settle down. And it's funny because it's so relatable. Some settings have changed, and some details differ, but the experiences he's sharing are so human. Basketball and friendships and family and anxieties and girls and figuring out what it means to be a man. Funny. Raw. Entertaining.
I continue reading, and the laughs slow down. He's sharing things I can't relate to. Things I want to protest can't be true, but how would I know? Until now, we've been two guys sharing laughs and a beer. Now he's talking about things that divide us. The negative effects of gentrification. Why black people can say the n-word and white people can't, even when singing along to the same music. Why Trump's election devastated the black community. Why black people need spaces safe from whites. What it means to raise a black child in America. My shoulders slump. I suppress my thought that "It's not all of us," realizing how lame it sounds. I'm getting my scolding. But I'm listening. I'm learning. And I'm definitely going to read more of what Damon Young writes.
P.S. To set the record straight, I voted against Trump in 2016, and will vote against him again in 2020. For what it's worth.
In minutes, I'm laughing. Out loud. The way only Bill Bryson or David Sedaris makes me laugh. Shoulders bouncing, bed shaking, my wife rolling her eyes and about to tell me to settle down. And it's funny because it's so relatable. Some settings have changed, and some details differ, but the experiences he's sharing are so human. Basketball and friendships and family and anxieties and girls and figuring out what it means to be a man. Funny. Raw. Entertaining.
I continue reading, and the laughs slow down. He's sharing things I can't relate to. Things I want to protest can't be true, but how would I know? Until now, we've been two guys sharing laughs and a beer. Now he's talking about things that divide us. The negative effects of gentrification. Why black people can say the n-word and white people can't, even when singing along to the same music. Why Trump's election devastated the black community. Why black people need spaces safe from whites. What it means to raise a black child in America. My shoulders slump. I suppress my thought that "It's not all of us," realizing how lame it sounds. I'm getting my scolding. But I'm listening. I'm learning. And I'm definitely going to read more of what Damon Young writes.
P.S. To set the record straight, I voted against Trump in 2016, and will vote against him again in 2020. For what it's worth.
dasrupa's review against another edition
5.0
On a scale from 1 to Queen Latifah’s cover of “I Put a Spell On You”, how cool did I feel reading a galley of this memoir on the subway? Pretty damn cool. This book was such an absolute pleasure to stumble upon. I wasn’t familiar with VerySmartBrothas.com but Young’s writing in this collection of essays is so incisive, so honest, so full of love, and so goddamn hilarious that I know I’ve been missing out. The fact that any discourse about race in this country so often has to be cloaked in humor for people to listen is of course a disheartening one, but I was too busy cackling to mind. In particular, Young does such a beautiful job of explaining his relationship to the n-word, how it can be a blunt instrument coming from the mouth of a stranger but a measure of the utmost comfort, playfulness, and security when spoken by a friend. I want to throw a copy of this at every person who ever complained about the unfairness of not being able to use that word, because if you don’t get it after reading this book, you ain’t never gonna get it.
(Note: If I had been a reader of VSB, I might have been turned off by Young’s “Rape Responsibility” piece and not given him or the book a chance, so maybe I should be grateful that we weren’t previously introduced because the loss would have been entirely mine. In an age of hollow apologies, Young’s unsparing account of that incident comes across as that of someone mature enough to examine, recognize, and indeed take responsibility for an extremely misguided take, and he earned my enduring respect as a result.)
(Note: If I had been a reader of VSB, I might have been turned off by Young’s “Rape Responsibility” piece and not given him or the book a chance, so maybe I should be grateful that we weren’t previously introduced because the loss would have been entirely mine. In an age of hollow apologies, Young’s unsparing account of that incident comes across as that of someone mature enough to examine, recognize, and indeed take responsibility for an extremely misguided take, and he earned my enduring respect as a result.)
steel_city_peach's review
5.0
I’ve never read a book that touched me on such a personal level. Damon Young perfectly described the neighborhood that raised me. The neighborhood that I no longer recognize thanks to gentrification. Every restaurant & lounge that he mentioned was familiar. His funny stories about his best friend resonated with me because that’s exactly how I remember Brian from high school. I swooned when he talked about the book release party that sparked his relationship with his wife. I was at that party. When he talked about writing in his favorite coffee shop, it reminded me of the time I saw him there. This book felt like a long overdue visit to my hometown. I am so thankful for the eloquent way that he painted a view of what my city looked like in the 1990’s.
kellylynnthomas's review against another edition
5.0
What a powerful memoir! I enjoyed it all the more for it taking place in Pittsburgh, a place I've chosen as my home but didn't grow up in. Damon Young traces his childhood in a pre-gentrification East Liberty and the trials and tribulations of growing up in the 'hood with parents who are doing their best. His writing is frank and honest, and manages to be gruff and beautiful at the same time. He reads the audio book, which was really cool.
cellardour's review against another edition
4.0
Dragged a bit in the second half but overall very funny and insightful.