Scan barcode
Reviews
How to Survive a Plague: The Story of How Activists and Scientists Tamed AIDS by David France
omemiserum's review against another edition
4.0
Really, really special. Cried many times. Felt a lot of awe and horror and hope and despair. Remind me to write a better review when it’s no longer 2am.
-
Okay, updating the review now... this book was an incredibly insightful glimpse into the the HIV/AIDS epidemic, from a relatively US (and queer, tbh) centric perspective. The level of detail and personal testimony that France managed to incorporate was astounding - I loved (and was destroyed by) his ability to interrelate his own personal experiences and relationship with the epidemic (as was virtually inevitable for a gay man living in New York during the 80s and 90s) with intense, journalistically precise documentation of the various advancements (and setbacks) that AIDS activism and the scientific bureaucracy experienced throughout the period. The constant conflict, inactivity, and trial failures felt disheartening and frustrating at best - at worst, entirely agonising, frequently put into perspective as directly leading to the deaths of millions of people. I'm not sure I can truly process all that whilst remaining sane; it reminds me brutally of the wider phenomenon of political choices killing off infinite swathes of people, which is a reality within politics that makes particularly unbearable contemplation. It's what I read between the lines whenever I hear people dying of preventable diseases; whenever people are killed by the police, commit suicide, starve, are victims of fires preventable if authorities could be bothered to invest in better infrastructure, and beyond. Incoming, as global warming worsens, the sensation deepens in my bones with the knowledge that certain people are facing the brunt of this crisis - they are taking the burden of a disaster they didn't create with their own lives. A like sensation is very prevalent within this book - Reagan, Bush, Clinton. Numerous other politicians, including the like of Jesse Helms. Hands drenched in blood.
Perhaps I'm getting sidetracked. Nonetheless, I guess its wider applicability is a huge credit to 'How to Survive a Plague' - bodies as political tools, in death and life, in dramatic activism. This activism and how it took shape and fluctuated and shifted throughout the epidemic certainly blew me away; the various groups and focuses of activism, in all idiosyncratic variations towards and away from ACT UP's 'drugs into bodies' motto. The work of ACT UP and its associated sub-groups (alongside eventual children organisations) was so incredible to read about; surely one of the greatest feats of modern activism, and one that I've certainly neglected in my previous research on protests. Nonetheless, the incessant infighting and internal conflict even in the face of a wider outside body to fight was definitely relatable and disheartening - maybe an inevitable component of all movements and a necessary force for growth and conversation, but nevertheless a barrier to the unified action that can be most effective.
On a final note, the glimpse at survivors' guilt and a sense of community mourning is, I think, another vitally important takeaway from this book. The weight of the HIV/AIDS epidemic feels unbearable to me, and I wasn't even alive at its (Western) peak. How does a community cope with that level of intergenerational loss? A question for the ages. I frame it as if the majority of the present LGBTQ+ community is desperately trying to move beyond the epidemic's pain, when in reality, I'd be more inclined to criticise how lacking education and an understanding of queer history is. But I guess, ironically, we're reaching a point that many AIDS activists once dreamed of - a point at which HIV/AIDS is not an inevitable conversation and omnipresent cloud over 21st century queer experience, at least not to its prior extent. The legacy remains, though. And as it should. The takeaways of 'How to Survive a Plague' should remain in the public conscience for eternity. I may be full of grief, but I am full of pride and full of awe. And so grateful that this book (and others like it) exists.
-
Okay, updating the review now... this book was an incredibly insightful glimpse into the the HIV/AIDS epidemic, from a relatively US (and queer, tbh) centric perspective. The level of detail and personal testimony that France managed to incorporate was astounding - I loved (and was destroyed by) his ability to interrelate his own personal experiences and relationship with the epidemic (as was virtually inevitable for a gay man living in New York during the 80s and 90s) with intense, journalistically precise documentation of the various advancements (and setbacks) that AIDS activism and the scientific bureaucracy experienced throughout the period. The constant conflict, inactivity, and trial failures felt disheartening and frustrating at best - at worst, entirely agonising, frequently put into perspective as directly leading to the deaths of millions of people. I'm not sure I can truly process all that whilst remaining sane; it reminds me brutally of the wider phenomenon of political choices killing off infinite swathes of people, which is a reality within politics that makes particularly unbearable contemplation. It's what I read between the lines whenever I hear people dying of preventable diseases; whenever people are killed by the police, commit suicide, starve, are victims of fires preventable if authorities could be bothered to invest in better infrastructure, and beyond. Incoming, as global warming worsens, the sensation deepens in my bones with the knowledge that certain people are facing the brunt of this crisis - they are taking the burden of a disaster they didn't create with their own lives. A like sensation is very prevalent within this book - Reagan, Bush, Clinton. Numerous other politicians, including the like of Jesse Helms. Hands drenched in blood.
Perhaps I'm getting sidetracked. Nonetheless, I guess its wider applicability is a huge credit to 'How to Survive a Plague' - bodies as political tools, in death and life, in dramatic activism. This activism and how it took shape and fluctuated and shifted throughout the epidemic certainly blew me away; the various groups and focuses of activism, in all idiosyncratic variations towards and away from ACT UP's 'drugs into bodies' motto. The work of ACT UP and its associated sub-groups (alongside eventual children organisations) was so incredible to read about; surely one of the greatest feats of modern activism, and one that I've certainly neglected in my previous research on protests. Nonetheless, the incessant infighting and internal conflict even in the face of a wider outside body to fight was definitely relatable and disheartening - maybe an inevitable component of all movements and a necessary force for growth and conversation, but nevertheless a barrier to the unified action that can be most effective.
On a final note, the glimpse at survivors' guilt and a sense of community mourning is, I think, another vitally important takeaway from this book. The weight of the HIV/AIDS epidemic feels unbearable to me, and I wasn't even alive at its (Western) peak. How does a community cope with that level of intergenerational loss? A question for the ages. I frame it as if the majority of the present LGBTQ+ community is desperately trying to move beyond the epidemic's pain, when in reality, I'd be more inclined to criticise how lacking education and an understanding of queer history is. But I guess, ironically, we're reaching a point that many AIDS activists once dreamed of - a point at which HIV/AIDS is not an inevitable conversation and omnipresent cloud over 21st century queer experience, at least not to its prior extent. The legacy remains, though. And as it should. The takeaways of 'How to Survive a Plague' should remain in the public conscience for eternity. I may be full of grief, but I am full of pride and full of awe. And so grateful that this book (and others like it) exists.
hannahkk's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
medium-paced
4.25
A good overview of the history of aids activism in the early days of the pandemic. Does a good job of looking at the many different attitudes of aids activists in a relatively neutral way.
amris's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
informative
inspiring
reflective
slow-paced
5.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Terminal illness and Pandemic/Epidemic
kaitlynreadsbooks's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
slow-paced
4.0
jamesbickers97's review against another edition
5.0
Whilst a very heavy detailed book, I cannot stress the greatness of this book. I feel as if I have never cried so much whilst learning about my own community, I made a vow to myself following a binge viewing of Its A Sin, I vowed to learn more about the AIDS epidemic and to educate myself about a section of queer history that I was always fearful of approaching. And I am so glad that I did -
Deciding to listen to How To Survive a Plague on audiobook was hard at times, listening to the personally stories of some of these activists made me tear up on several occasions. I just can't commend the writing enough, everything about this book just conveys the severity of the times, the battles that where fought and the hope for the future.
Deciding to listen to How To Survive a Plague on audiobook was hard at times, listening to the personally stories of some of these activists made me tear up on several occasions. I just can't commend the writing enough, everything about this book just conveys the severity of the times, the battles that where fought and the hope for the future.
salem99's review against another edition
dark
emotional
sad
fast-paced
4.5
A really wonderful and comprehensive timeline of the AIDS crisis. I think this was a great introduction for learning more about queer history and just how hard people had to fight for basic rights and dignity. This happened in living memory and we can still feel the ramifications of this crisis today.
circesophelia's review against another edition
5.0
"Maybe none of us did"
one of the best final lines of anything I've read.
one of the best final lines of anything I've read.