This book follows three generations of the Sackler family as they make their fortune, spread their wealth around via conspicuous philanthropy, and then find themselves defending their name from the fallout of their actions. Keefe creates in-depth profiles of each of the Sacklers, using their own words as well as firsthand accounts from their friends, associates, and employees, to trace their evolution as people as well as pharmaceutical advertisers. The writing is compelling and increasingly enraging, especially as the account moves into the OxyContin years; with an avalanche of damning facts, the book lays bare the Sacklers’ singleminded pursuit of profit even as their culpability in the nation’s opioid crisis becomes impossible to ignore.
Tag: peril-book-club
The Trials of Nina McCall, by Scott W. Stern
Nonfiction, a deeply detailed and infuriating delve into the American Plan, a little-known and widespread government program, which for decades empowered authorities to detain women on the flimsiest of premises, perform invasive procedures on them without consent, imprison them without trial or hope of appeal, and force them to undergo dangerous and ineffective treatments if (highly unreliable) tests found them to have venereal diseases. This program ensnared and abused tens of thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands, of American women, including the titular Nina McCall; when the program finally faded, it was buried from history. The book was clearly well-researched and the subject is horrifying, but unfortunately the writing drowned the reader in mind-numbing detail; it if weren’t for the urgent subject matter (and the fact that I had a book club deadline), I likely would not have forced myself through to the end.
Brown Girl in the Ring, by Nalo Hopkinson
In a future version of Toronto, where white flight and government neglect have reduced the inner core of the city to lawless violence, a young woman with oracular sight chafes under the eye of her herbalist grandmother. This book, a matrilineal retelling of “Ti-Jean and his Brothers,” mashes together many things: figures from Caribbean folktale, sci-fi dystopia and social commentary, strong female characters, and coming of age/redemption through embracing family culture. I followed the action well enough, but the use of Creole between the characters made me feel like it would have been better as an audiobook; I think I would have gotten the flow of the conversation much more easily.
Pandora’s Jar: Women in the Greek Myths, by Natalie Haynes
Incredibly enjoyable deep dive into Greek mythology, with the overtly stated goal of returning women to the fore. As the Greek myths have passed down to us filtered through the eyes of generations of male Western classicists, female characters like Pandora, Helen, Clytemnestra, and Medea have been reduced to paper thin one-liners: disobedient child, mute beauty, bad wife, bad mother. Meanwhile the men get to be the stars, with the women little more than character development notes in their journeys. Haynes brings an indignantly feminist viewpoint and a wealth of knowledge of the original sources, quoting Euripides as well as other playwrights and poets to mine out meaning and depth for the female characters that had gotten lost (one might even say deliberately papered-over) along the way.
Laziness Does Not Exist, by Devon Price
I came hoping for a nuanced critique of workaholic capitalism, and got positivity and compassion instead. Like most self-help books, this one can be summed up in a short paragraph, but it’s padded out with a ton of personal stories that Price hopes will resonate with you. The summary: the American workaholic culture makes you feel bad for taking time out for yourself, but don’t let that stop you! Taking breaks will stave off burnout, refresh your mind, rejuvenate your system, and make you a more productive person overall. The book is very geared towards a certain type of white-collar salaried worker with benefits, or maybe an overworked stay-at-home spouse being supported by their partner’s salary, who can afford to advocate for changes on their own behalf without fear of dismissal. There was passing acknowledgement of people working multiple jobs on the gig economy, but critique was directed more at the cultural/psychological pressure to stay busy and productive than any actual financial need, which I feel is rather dismissive of anyone who takes those jobs to make ends meet. Finally, the title is annoyingly incorrect; Price’s point is that laziness should not be a cultural negative, not that it doesn’t exist at all.
The Stand, by Stephen King
For book club. I get why people call this an American post-apocalyptic classic, it’s the sheer ambitious scale of it. (Paradoxically, reading King’s pandemic actually made me feel a little better about our current pandemic, because ours is so much less deadly! yay?) King focuses on individual human stories to tell the story of a nationwide tragedy, and then gradually pivots to make it an even bigger story of good vs. pure evil. It really, really didn’t work for me though; it’s too obvious that King is a white guy writing from the whitest state of America. His people of color get to be stereotypes and/or stale tropes; I couldn’t even quietly envision myself in the cast, because if a character isn’t white or heterosexual, King will. point. it. out. The origins and government mismanagement of King’s pandemic also didn’t sit well with me; I know it wasn’t his intent at all, but to me, by painting the government as untrustworthy and inept in the face of a pandemic, it feels like he’s encouraging the real people who are prolonging this pandemic by ignoring the government’s advice on masking and vaccination, ugh. Bad timing, I guess. Also, despite a really patient and gradual buildup of good vs. evil, the climax of the conflict felt pointless and unsatisfying. In short: boy am I the wrong audience for this book.
All Over the Place: Adventures in Travel, True Love, and Petty Theft, by Geraldine DeRuiter
The author is a travel blogger, and I picked her book up because of her hilarious viral pan of a fancy Italian restaurant. The writing style throughout is entertaining, light, and incredibly self-deprecating; she paints lovely portraits of her friends and family, including her quirky parents and her husband who she clearly adores, whose globetrotting job has enabled her to tag along and explore the world despite her self-acknowledged insecurities and lack of directional sense. Her tone throughout is of bemused gratitude at her own good fortune, which I appreciated.
The Oracle of Night, by Sidarta Ribeiro
The first half of this book was pretty awful, full of vague generalizations, tales of historical dreams that turned out to have been prophetic, and long paragraphs about the origins of life and consciousness that felt more like a high school research project than a published book. Towards the end it got much more interesting, turning abruptly to synaptic pathways, brain activity during sleep, and actual neuroscience, and that’s when I really got into it. Pity about the rest of the book.
The Three Body Problem, by Liu Cixin
Reread for book club (again! But different book club!) which I welcomed since I rushed through the ending before. I loved this book the first time I read it and haven’t changed my opinion in the slightest; it presents uber nerdy space physics problems (with bonus computation engines!) alongside aftershocks from the Cultural Revolution. It’s also an alien encounter story, but like the best alien encounter stories, it’s really more about the humans and how they react to the aliens. I love the depth and ambition of the ideas in this book, but the characterization definitely suffers from lack of attention, and although the plot feels like it tries to be serious, the action occasionally borders on ridiculousness.