chelsevie's review against another edition
3.0
I didn't enjoy this one as much as Doyles sophomore effort Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers, perhaps because I've just never paid as much attention to celebrity culture, but I do adore her writing style and humour.
I learned a lot with this book and it definitely encouraged me to consider the trajectories of female celebrities, and the industry at large, more critically.
I learned a lot with this book and it definitely encouraged me to consider the trajectories of female celebrities, and the industry at large, more critically.
readhikerepeat's review against another edition
5.0
It’s tough to be a woman. As a woman, I know this, but then I read books like Trainwreck: The Women We Love to Hate, Mock, and Fear . . . and Why by Sady Doyle and am reminded that it’s really tough to be a woman, particularly if you find yourself in the spotlight. Being in the spotlight is hard no matter who you are; your narrative is no longer yours, your life is open for public debate, and there are more people trying to tear you down than build you up, but being a woman in the spotlight is riddled with unique complications that men are, by and large, spared.
It is this gender disparity that Doyle explores in Trainwreck and if I’m being completely honest, she called me out on a few of my own judgmental thoughts. It turns out, I am just as guilty as the rest of society. Take Tara Reid, the it party girl for a few years more than a decade ago. She was bubbly, fun, and loved to embrace her sexuality, but the minute her insecurities took root and she had a less-than-perfect boob job, she was cast aside by society (me included). And yet, we still love to talk about her fall from grace. This is what makes her a classic trainwreck – she was young, pretty, and shiny. We didn’t care about her well-being, nor did we care about the fact that she might be going through the same insecurities we were – instead we reveled in her downfall because she was a party girl who “deserved” it. This is also true for Britney Spears, Lindsey Lohan, and Rihanna, who I admit I judged the harshest.
Trainwreck is broken down into three sections. First, she discusses why we love a good trainwreck. Why do we love to build women up only to tear them down? And why do we do this to women more than men? Think about it – no one uses the term “trainwreck” to describe male celebrities. In fact, David Foster Wallace and Sylvia Plath were in the same treatment center, but Wallace is revered for having overcome it while Plath succumbed to it, despite similar fates. Similarly, men are forgiven for raping and beating women while women are condemned for getting drunk and wearing a skirt that’s too short or (gasp!) having a sexual life. In other words, their choices aren’t about passion-fueled moments, but a concerted effort to sabotage themselves, so they deserve what’s coming.
Obviously, I don’t believe this last part is true but I have definitely judged my fair share of trainwrecked celebrities. I remember when the Monica Lewinsky scandal broke. I was 15 and she seemed so old to me – so old that she should have known better than to sleep with a married man and clearly lacked a moral compass. Plus, that’s what the media told me to think. As an adult, I see things much differently, but it does speak volumes about how the media and where you are in your own life can shape how you view those splashed on magazine covers. In an effort not to be one-sided, Doyle also delves into Clinton’s own battles with how people perceived her long before she decided to run for president. Casting blame aside, both women have been subjected to unspeakable commentaries and I’m impressed that either woman has the will to keep moving forward. (You may want to check out this article by Doyle about Clinton and the trainwreck culture).
Second, she discusses how a trainwreck is built, from their rapid rise to success to their equally swift downfall. But what Doyle points out is that the women we condemn to trainwreck status are actually the feminists of their time. Billie Holliday, Mary Wollstonecraft, Marilyn Monroe, Princess Diana, Whitney Houston, and the Bronte sisters were all considered to be trainwrecks, and yet today we consider them pioneers in their own way – only in death are they redeemable. There are also different standards depending on your race, background, and personal relationship choices. White women, Doyle points out, can’t be sexual without drawing ire (think Kim Kardashian), while Black women can’t be anything but (think Nicki Minaj). And God forbid you date outside of your “class” (think Britney Spears).
Lastly, she discusses what happens to trainwrecks after their fall from grace and how we need to do and be better. Many disappear into obscurity, but there are also many who spiral into addition or suicide, unable to cope with the onslaught of hatred the world has piled upon her. The scary thing is that this can happen to anyone. Any woman who dares to put herself out there and challenge social norms, from bloggers to authors to celebrities, risks the backlash. Although this book was written before Megyn Kelly’s newly released memoir, it reminded me of the backlash she received from people who didn’t even read her book but shared their “opinions” of it: it was ill-conceived/fluff/terrible/awful/inappropriate (I happened to enjoy it). Luckily, or perhaps necessarily, more and more female celebrities are opening up about the toll being in the limelight, and the constant barrage of attacks, takes on them, from Selena Gomez and Demi Lovato to Megyn Kelly and Monica Lewinsky, so we are learning more about the impacts of our actions.
But perhaps my favorite parts of the book were those that pertain to Britney Spears, whom I am an avid fan of. Doyle confesses that she hated Britney for being sexual and for projecting that on girls around the world, but only later realized that perhaps Britney, herself, was uncomfortable with the Lolita-like fascination men had with her. Britney is the quintessential trainwreck (young, pretty, innocent) whose rise to fame took a drastic turn following the infamous head-shaving incident. No one knows exactly what led to that moment, but we do know that mental health was a factor and rather than focus on the importance of self-care, we scrutinized her even more because it made good headlines. She seems to be in a good place today, but she is comparatively withdrawn and under the guardianship of her father, demonstrating that the very nature of being Britney-in-the-spotlight is a difficult balancing act.
What’s most striking about this book, for all of it’s contemporary discussions, is that how we treat women is not a new phenomena. Women used to be gagged with spikes or literally waterboarded if they were considered to be a loudmouthed nag. Women who wanted more than men were giving them have always had to fight twice as hard. And while the methods of suppression are evolving, the underlying sexism that drives the trainwreck culture still exists. If anything, the Internet has made it worse by giving us a place to air every horrible comment that comes into our heads (So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed by Jon Ronson is also a good book on this subject). In other words, women who want things deserve to be torn down, especially if they make their wants known. If a woman stands in front of a man’s house with a boombox and waits for them to come out, it’s a crime, but when men do it it’s romantic. When women show they are sexual beings, they are called sluts, but when men do it it’s part of the norm.
And let’s not forget that women can be just as bad as men when it comes to passing judgment (they were oftentimes the most enthusiastic group at public hangings). Doyle speculates that this is because we like to hate in others what we hate in ourselves, but it’s also because we can feel better about ourselves when we see others make poor choices. The problem with this logic we are judging them based on their worst moments, which I think we can all agree we would hate to happen to us.
So what can we do? First, let’s remember the feminist fight isn’t over and although we have to contend with the confidence gap, mansplaining, and imposter syndrome, we have to keep moving forward. Second, we need to stick up for each other. We are all unique individuals but we all deserve to be respected for who we are. Lastly, we need to check ourselves when we find ourselves judging women on TV and in magazines because although it may be silent and temporary, we are giving in to the problem, not fighting it.
This was originally reviewed at The Book Wheel.
It is this gender disparity that Doyle explores in Trainwreck and if I’m being completely honest, she called me out on a few of my own judgmental thoughts. It turns out, I am just as guilty as the rest of society. Take Tara Reid, the it party girl for a few years more than a decade ago. She was bubbly, fun, and loved to embrace her sexuality, but the minute her insecurities took root and she had a less-than-perfect boob job, she was cast aside by society (me included). And yet, we still love to talk about her fall from grace. This is what makes her a classic trainwreck – she was young, pretty, and shiny. We didn’t care about her well-being, nor did we care about the fact that she might be going through the same insecurities we were – instead we reveled in her downfall because she was a party girl who “deserved” it. This is also true for Britney Spears, Lindsey Lohan, and Rihanna, who I admit I judged the harshest.
Trainwreck is broken down into three sections. First, she discusses why we love a good trainwreck. Why do we love to build women up only to tear them down? And why do we do this to women more than men? Think about it – no one uses the term “trainwreck” to describe male celebrities. In fact, David Foster Wallace and Sylvia Plath were in the same treatment center, but Wallace is revered for having overcome it while Plath succumbed to it, despite similar fates. Similarly, men are forgiven for raping and beating women while women are condemned for getting drunk and wearing a skirt that’s too short or (gasp!) having a sexual life. In other words, their choices aren’t about passion-fueled moments, but a concerted effort to sabotage themselves, so they deserve what’s coming.
Obviously, I don’t believe this last part is true but I have definitely judged my fair share of trainwrecked celebrities. I remember when the Monica Lewinsky scandal broke. I was 15 and she seemed so old to me – so old that she should have known better than to sleep with a married man and clearly lacked a moral compass. Plus, that’s what the media told me to think. As an adult, I see things much differently, but it does speak volumes about how the media and where you are in your own life can shape how you view those splashed on magazine covers. In an effort not to be one-sided, Doyle also delves into Clinton’s own battles with how people perceived her long before she decided to run for president. Casting blame aside, both women have been subjected to unspeakable commentaries and I’m impressed that either woman has the will to keep moving forward. (You may want to check out this article by Doyle about Clinton and the trainwreck culture).
Second, she discusses how a trainwreck is built, from their rapid rise to success to their equally swift downfall. But what Doyle points out is that the women we condemn to trainwreck status are actually the feminists of their time. Billie Holliday, Mary Wollstonecraft, Marilyn Monroe, Princess Diana, Whitney Houston, and the Bronte sisters were all considered to be trainwrecks, and yet today we consider them pioneers in their own way – only in death are they redeemable. There are also different standards depending on your race, background, and personal relationship choices. White women, Doyle points out, can’t be sexual without drawing ire (think Kim Kardashian), while Black women can’t be anything but (think Nicki Minaj). And God forbid you date outside of your “class” (think Britney Spears).
Lastly, she discusses what happens to trainwrecks after their fall from grace and how we need to do and be better. Many disappear into obscurity, but there are also many who spiral into addition or suicide, unable to cope with the onslaught of hatred the world has piled upon her. The scary thing is that this can happen to anyone. Any woman who dares to put herself out there and challenge social norms, from bloggers to authors to celebrities, risks the backlash. Although this book was written before Megyn Kelly’s newly released memoir, it reminded me of the backlash she received from people who didn’t even read her book but shared their “opinions” of it: it was ill-conceived/fluff/terrible/awful/inappropriate (I happened to enjoy it). Luckily, or perhaps necessarily, more and more female celebrities are opening up about the toll being in the limelight, and the constant barrage of attacks, takes on them, from Selena Gomez and Demi Lovato to Megyn Kelly and Monica Lewinsky, so we are learning more about the impacts of our actions.
But perhaps my favorite parts of the book were those that pertain to Britney Spears, whom I am an avid fan of. Doyle confesses that she hated Britney for being sexual and for projecting that on girls around the world, but only later realized that perhaps Britney, herself, was uncomfortable with the Lolita-like fascination men had with her. Britney is the quintessential trainwreck (young, pretty, innocent) whose rise to fame took a drastic turn following the infamous head-shaving incident. No one knows exactly what led to that moment, but we do know that mental health was a factor and rather than focus on the importance of self-care, we scrutinized her even more because it made good headlines. She seems to be in a good place today, but she is comparatively withdrawn and under the guardianship of her father, demonstrating that the very nature of being Britney-in-the-spotlight is a difficult balancing act.
What’s most striking about this book, for all of it’s contemporary discussions, is that how we treat women is not a new phenomena. Women used to be gagged with spikes or literally waterboarded if they were considered to be a loudmouthed nag. Women who wanted more than men were giving them have always had to fight twice as hard. And while the methods of suppression are evolving, the underlying sexism that drives the trainwreck culture still exists. If anything, the Internet has made it worse by giving us a place to air every horrible comment that comes into our heads (So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed by Jon Ronson is also a good book on this subject). In other words, women who want things deserve to be torn down, especially if they make their wants known. If a woman stands in front of a man’s house with a boombox and waits for them to come out, it’s a crime, but when men do it it’s romantic. When women show they are sexual beings, they are called sluts, but when men do it it’s part of the norm.
And let’s not forget that women can be just as bad as men when it comes to passing judgment (they were oftentimes the most enthusiastic group at public hangings). Doyle speculates that this is because we like to hate in others what we hate in ourselves, but it’s also because we can feel better about ourselves when we see others make poor choices. The problem with this logic we are judging them based on their worst moments, which I think we can all agree we would hate to happen to us.
So what can we do? First, let’s remember the feminist fight isn’t over and although we have to contend with the confidence gap, mansplaining, and imposter syndrome, we have to keep moving forward. Second, we need to stick up for each other. We are all unique individuals but we all deserve to be respected for who we are. Lastly, we need to check ourselves when we find ourselves judging women on TV and in magazines because although it may be silent and temporary, we are giving in to the problem, not fighting it.
This was originally reviewed at The Book Wheel.
piccola_el's review against another edition
4.0
Prima lettura completata dell'anno.
Un saggio che sicuramente fa riflettere. Vorrei poter dire anche che sconvolge ma, purtroppo, è più probabile che semplicemente metta meglio a fuoco quello che ci passa continuamente sotto gli occhi; del tipo che lo sai già, ma Doyle lo mette bene a fuoco, chiaro ed in ordine, e con il suo bel contorno di riferimenti ed esempi storici.
Personalmente, merita 4⭐ e non 5 perché, in alcuni punti, sembra quasi che l'autore parli a sé stesso ed i riferimenti sono un po' oscuri ma, nonostante questo, è sicuramente una lettura più che consigliata.
"[...] quali che fossero i difetti [...] - e ne aveva - non hanno mai avuto alcuna importanza, perché quegli stessi difetti sarebbero stati di certo perdonati in un candidato uomo."
Un saggio che sicuramente fa riflettere. Vorrei poter dire anche che sconvolge ma, purtroppo, è più probabile che semplicemente metta meglio a fuoco quello che ci passa continuamente sotto gli occhi; del tipo che lo sai già, ma Doyle lo mette bene a fuoco, chiaro ed in ordine, e con il suo bel contorno di riferimenti ed esempi storici.
Personalmente, merita 4⭐ e non 5 perché, in alcuni punti, sembra quasi che l'autore parli a sé stesso ed i riferimenti sono un po' oscuri ma, nonostante questo, è sicuramente una lettura più che consigliata.
"[...] quali che fossero i difetti [...] - e ne aveva - non hanno mai avuto alcuna importanza, perché quegli stessi difetti sarebbero stati di certo perdonati in un candidato uomo."
karimorton33's review against another edition
5.0
I really enjoyed this book and the deep dive that it took into the word trainwreck as it's used towards women, from history and now. These stories about trainwrecks are mainly read by women. As the book says, what do we get from reading/believing these things? Why do we feel the desire to see trainwrecks? I have to admit that I am guilty of some of the thoughts described, but this book has really opened my eyes. The book doesn't mention too many things that men have done, but the examples mentioned are for the most part worse (if you can consider some of the things the women do "bad") but don't cause these men any grief or change to their lives like it does for the women.
Some of my favourite quotes are:
"Men have problems, women are problems. We see them as problems rather than people."
"But in changing ourselves, and our definitions of womanhood, we have to stop believing that when a woman does something we don't like, we're qualified and entitled to punish her, violate her, or ruin her life."
Some of my favourite quotes are:
"Men have problems, women are problems. We see them as problems rather than people."
"But in changing ourselves, and our definitions of womanhood, we have to stop believing that when a woman does something we don't like, we're qualified and entitled to punish her, violate her, or ruin her life."
dashadashahi's review against another edition
2.0
I wanted to like this book so badly, the concept is so ripe for discussion. Yet, Doyle delivers a surface-level analysis that is, essentially, pop feminism. For example, Doyle tells us that part of the reason women got louder in the 20th century was that everyone got louder. Really? That's part of the analysis we get? Similarly, her analysis of Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes is disappointing. The refusal to "wreck" Ted Hughes (because it won't "unwreck" women) is a point I found myself heavily disagreeing on. While we shouldn't seek men to destroy, we should still critique men who have actively or otherwise participated in the wrecking of women who did not fit the unreasonable standard of womanhood during their life. I thought the analysis of Marilyn Monroe was best, showing how even in death women are commodified and passed around as public property as evidenced by the fact that men vied to be buried, quite literally, on top of her. However, I also found myself wanting Doyle to more deeply explain why men seem obsessed with the death of women and sexualize said dead women. Perhaps the dead woman is the idealized woman, passive in all respects, reaching their peak as objects for men's adoration and pleasure. I don't know. All in all: not radical enough.
sadie_reads_alatte's review against another edition
4.0
"Consider this book, then, a feminist anatomy of the trainwreck. It's an effort to figure out who she is: what her crimes are, why she's making us so angry; what, in general, she hath done to offend us. These are questions of more immediate and personal relevance than you might think: When women look hard enough at the trainwreck, we almost invariably end up looking at ourselves.
[...] It is, above all, an attempt to use the figure of the trainwreck, and our fascination with her, for good: to take all the earth-shattering and civilization-angering power of hers and channel it toward something that might make the world a more just place for the women who live in it."
This book was interesting, frustrating and made me stop to say "WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!" roughly 2,783 times.
[...] It is, above all, an attempt to use the figure of the trainwreck, and our fascination with her, for good: to take all the earth-shattering and civilization-angering power of hers and channel it toward something that might make the world a more just place for the women who live in it."
This book was interesting, frustrating and made me stop to say "WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!" roughly 2,783 times.
pathfinder_'s review against another edition
challenging
informative
inspiring
reflective
slow-paced
5.0
kittykornerlibrarian's review against another edition
5.0
I liked this better than I thought I would... a lot better. It's about famous women and how they are treated by the media... how the narrative is to damage powerful women and take the control of their stories away. Princess Diana, Courtney Love, Britney Spears.... all of them are here. My favorite part was about Hillary Clinton and Monica Lewinsky. This is a smart thoughtful take on women and the media.