Animal Allegory: George Orwell's Animal Farm: The Graphic Novel

 George Orwell's Animal Farm: The Graphic Novel

Illustrated by Jakub Politzer and Michael Purmensky; adapted by Christina Dumalasova and Katerina Horakova

George Orwell's Animal Farm: The Graphic Novel cover

Artist and illustrator Jakub Politzer

Adapted Christina Dumalasova

Adapted Katerina Horakova

Artist and illustrator Michael Purmensky

NB: Jakub Politzer is listed as the illustrator on NetGalley, but Michael Purmensky is listed as the illustrator in the book and on the Gemini Books page. 

Many thanks to Gemini Books Group and NetGalley for making the new graphic novel adaptation of George Orwell’s classic Animal Farm available for review. I was excited to find this adaptation since it had been some time since I’ve read and taught this allegorical work. In fact, I wish that this version had been around when I taught the book to high school students since many of them were reluctant readers who struggled a bit with Orwell’s British writing. Furthermore, teaching a book that serves as an allegorical critique of government philosophies in post-Revolution Russia and WWII Europe with farm animals serving as the stand-ins for figures like Stalin, Lenin, and Trotsky didn’t exactly catch with students who seemed to question the idea of animals talking and rebelling more than the themes of power, disinformation, conformity, exploitation, and control. Politzer’s and/or Purmensky’s illustrations help to emphasize some of the ferocity of the pigs who gradually and brutally take control of the farm. Furthermore, the stark, limited colors (mainly black and white with some reds added to emphasize danger, violence, and death) help readers identify key plot points and question the ways in which the pigs exploit the other farm animals as they work and produce while the pigs begin to take over. Although it’s been a while since I’ve read the original Animal Farm, I think that the adaptation by Christina Dumalasova and Katerina Horakova captured the essence of Orwell’s critiques and highlighted the eventual differences among the different animal groups. Furthermore, I couldn’t help but think of Orwell’s other major novel, 1984, while reading this adaptation, as we see how the pigs use the absence of information and the other animals’ ignorance and willingness to believe to propagate their own beliefs and ideas that are greatly for their own benefit. It also rings chillingly true of the current state of affairs in the US where the government continues to misinform the public with attempts to manipulate popular beliefs and support for extrajudicial and violent policies. It’s amazing how relevant and powerful this book is, which ultimately speaks to Orwell’s keen insight into some of the worst of human nature, especially around areas like power and greed. However, I think that this accessible, yet still incredibly powerful adaptation also speaks to the importance of art and literature to continue to critique and challenge in times of uncertainty and upheaval, where chaos and divisiveness can enable bad actors with extreme self-interests to ascend to positions of power, and where those in power can ultimately exploit and punish those without power. George Orwell’s Animal Farm: The Graphic Novel is an important reminder that we all need to be aware and resist this opportunistic power grabs and continue to question. It reminded me of a quote I recently encountered from Orwell’s 1984 “The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.” We’ve witnessed this kind of propaganda and control recently, and making this classic Orwell tale into a graphic novel is a great way to engage more readers in learning about what is happening to continue to question the information they encounter. Highly recommended!

Lay Down Your Soul to the Gods Rock 'n' Roll: Dark Regards by Dave Hill and Artyom Topilin

 Dark Regards 

by Dave Hill and Artyom Topilin

Dark Regards book cover

Comedian and author Dave Hill

Cover art by Artyom Topilin

Many thanks to Oni Press and NetGalley for keeping it metal with Dave Hill’s hilarious and absurd Black Metal odyssey Dark Regards. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was getting into with these 4 issues that are now combined into one volume, but when I read the description about how a stand-up comedian’s attempts to promote his fictious black metal band Witch Taint by disparaging Norwegian black metal bands, I knew I had to check this out. I was glad to see that Lords of Chaos also serves as a reference point for this book, and that author Hill was able to find the humor in the book. When I first read Lords of Chaos, I couldn’t finish it. It was so bleak and dark, but I’m glad that I returned to it a few years later and was able to read through the cannibalism and Thanatos to find the humor in how extreme these Norwegians wanted to be. Ultimately, their pursuit of Mayhem (pun intended) led to violence, murder, and church burnings as a way to prove their metal/mettle. Hill focuses more on some of the absurdities of these Scandinavian scallywags like the desire to use torches for lighting in a record store. However, Hill also maintains the threats and extremes that these bands are willing to go to in order to be the bleakest, darkest, harshest sounding band around. Plus, he creates some killer band names like Rectal Heresy, Devil’s Snot, and Odin’s Pile.

The story is a little slow to start, but once Dave is turned on to Nachthammer, Viking Colon, and Misery Buffet (more realistic sounding bands) by uber-cool record store worker Tierny, he’s visited y Lord Abscess, one of the singers who died from self-cannibalism. Again, this sounds almost like something you’d read in Lords of Chaos. Just like Dave, I sometimes can go to extremes when I hear a new genre of music, especially music that’s hard and heavy. However, Dave goes even more extreme, developing a fake band and trolling real Norwegian black metal bands, which eventually brings them to the US to hunt him down. Dave eventually gathers a group of metal maniacs to form the band Witch Taint. However, with the arrival of the Nordic Warriors, Dave and Witch Taint will have to battle these true black metalheads to prove whether they are extremely extreme. This was a really fun story to read, with lots of great references to metal, not just Norwegian black metal. Also, the artwork by Artyom Topilin was great. It’s extremely colorful, and yet the artistry really captures some of the darker elements of metal. I loved the way the Norwegians are portrayed as big and hulking. Dave’s corpse paint is also well done. Sometimes with these kinds of absurd stories the art might be overdone or too comedic, but I found a nice balance between humor and horror that helps to capture these complementary tones of the story. I especially loved the alternate covers in the back of the volume that reference classic metal albums from the likes of Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, and Dio. This was just a fun read, although I wish there was more of Lord Abscess. Hopefully there are more stories in the works about this character. Dark Regards is a fun and wild ride. Highly Recommended!

Judas Priest cover by Brian Level

Killer Eddie Cover by Brian Level

Dio Cover by Brian Level

Urgent Questions in the History of Rock n Roll: This Ain't Rock 'n' Roll by Daniel Rachel

 This Ain't Rock 'n' Roll: Pop Music, the Swastika, and the Third Reich by Daniel Rachel

This Ain't Rock 'n' Roll cover

Author Daniel Rachel

“What do you do when your mom is a skinhead? You write a song about her,” Thurston Moore’s introduction to Sonic Youth’s “The Bedroom”

 

Big thanks to Akashic Books and NetGalley for the advanced copy of Daniel Rachel’s urgent and critical new book This Ain’t Rock ‘n’ Roll: Pop Music, the Swastika, and the Third Reich.  Towards the end of the book, I thought about Thurston Moore’s intro to “The Bedroom,” a song from the early 90s that probably preceded “Youth Against Fascism,” but still emphasized the bands commitment to upholding their values yet also being provocative in their lyrics. I don’t think anyone would accuse SY of holding Nazi sympathies, yet Thurston’s ambivalent delivery leads listeners to wonder whether he’s angry, sad, or maybe even questioning the mother’s skinhead membership. If anything, it’s a kind of absurd premise, but still emphasizes the shock value that permeates the punk ethos from the early days of SY. This song intro nor any of SY’s music made it into this book, but it would have been interesting to read Rachel’s thoughts and questions about SY’s skinhead reference or another reference to Jews in their song “My Arena.” It would have been interesting to see how bands in the 80s, grappling with Reagan, racism, and other inequalities in the US have responded to issues like the resurgence of white supremacy (I’m looking at you Ice-T and Body Count).

If anything, I wonder how much context matters in these kinds of references and whether bands or musicians that referred to Nazi imagery from the UK had a different impact or intent than bands or musicians from the US. I think most people understand that the band Blondie, referenced in the book for some potential Nazi references, are not sympathizers with Nazis, but should we also question other bands from the 1970s like Joy Division or The Fall? Nevertheless, British music is more of the focus of Rachel’s book, and I learned so much from reading this book, both from the bands and the music, as well as the history and details that were relevant to many of the songs, albums, and artwork referenced throughout the book. While I knew about plenty of the bands and the Nazi references that these bands made, I never really considered the deeper implications, especially in how it may have impacted survivors and families who were impacted by the Holocaust. The book covers a lot of obvious candidates from the heyday of British punk like the Sex Pistols (especially Sid Vicious) and Siouxie Sioux, to Factory Records bands like Joy Division and New Order, whose names derive from Nazi references, to some American bands like The Stooges, whose lead guitarist Ron Asheton frequently dressed in SS uniforms and was deeply interested in German war history, and The Ramones, whose logo may have borrowed from the Nazi era eagle. Although The Ramones’ song “Today your love, Tomorrow the world,” referenced Ava Braun’s and Hitler’s love, The Ramones also referred to themselves as “Nazis” in the song, even though Joey Ramone was Jewish. Rachel notes in the end of the book that he is just presenting the facts as they are and making historical references to WWII and Holocaust history to identify possible references and allusions that the bands make. However, I’m not sure that anyone listening to this song took The Ramones to be Nazis, since they never really seemed serious about the subjects in any of their songs. They also sang about sniffing glue, wanting to get shock treatment, and claiming to be victims of a teenage lobotomy. In fact, Rachel later references The Ramones’ song “Bonzo goes to Bitburg” released shortly after Reagan’s shameful visit to an SS cemetery where he advocated for forgetting the past atrocities. If anything, this example shows how The Ramones used this imagery and references not lightly, but rather in a critical if not sarcastic manner to lessen the power and allure of the Nazis. It was interesting to consider other case studies and musicians like Sid Vicious (if you could even call him a musician or artist) who used Nazi imagery to shock and incite the older generation. I don’t agree with that approach, and I think Rachel makes a good case in noting that art should be provocative, but the “atrocities of the Third Reich are not to be used lightly as creative inspiration.” I think that the latter sections really helped me understand this argument much more, especially when we think about more modern examples of shock rock and how some artists demonstrate their ignorance in the use of Nazi imagery. He cites examples of Marilyn Manson and Ye to show how current attempts by musicians to shock are problematic and in many ways lazy. For Manson, the analogy between current politics and Nazis didn’t add up, especially in a country that allowed his music to thrive and be accessible, if not criticized, by many. I don’t really understand why Ye expressed his love for Hitler, but he clearly seems like someone who needs a lot of attention, but he has recently attempted to apologize for his Nazi era. In fact, it makes less sense when you read about Hitler’s thoughts about Black athletes like Jesse Owens who competed in the 1936 Olympics. I’m sure that Hitler would not have been a fan of Ye’s at all.

It’s interesting to see Rachel’s theory that the increasing education and introduction of Holocaust studies into curricula in Europe and America in the 1980s and 1990s as well as popular representations of Holocaust stories ranging from The Diary of Anne Frank to Art Spiegelman’s Maus to Elie Wiesel’s Night to films like Schindler’s List all helped to raise consciousness about the Holocaust and the evils of the Third Reich, which is a possible reason why the use of Nazi imagery and themes today has taken on a different tone, and where we are quick to either question or condemn its use. If anything, it’s important to remember the consequences of this kind of damaged nationalism and dangerous pull of the crowd since in the US we have seen an uptick in using Nazi-type propaganda in government social media messages where the Department of Homeland Security has posted “We’ll have our home again” and the Department of Labor posted “One Homeland. One People. One Heritage,” slogans that have a nearly literal German translation from Nazi slogans.  As Rachel seems to argue, raising awareness is the first step, but it is also important to question and challenge, and not merely accept the repurposing of these phrases, images, and slogans.

In addition to these examples, I was really surprised to learn about some of the earlier Nazi examples Rachel cites from classic rock. In particular, there are stories about John Lennon’s fascination with Nazis, and how members of bands ranging from the Rolling Stones, the Who and Led Zeppelin would dress up in Nazi uniforms, sometimes for performances. I was aware of Bowie’s flirtations with fascism, as well as the explicit racism of Eric Clapton, who made continued racist comments in concert in the 1970s, even after scoring a hit from a Bob Marley cover song (once again appropriating Black art). This book was filled with various examples of artists who used fascism and especially Nazi imagery and ideas in their music. The book traces these examples from classic rock through punk and post-punk up until more modern examples and provides instances of other representations of Nazism in popular culture. Some of the most unbelievable examples are in the nazisploitation films like Isla, She Wolf of the SS, where Rachel provides the chilling real life Ilse Koch as the basis for this story. Other films like Salon Kitty and The Night Porter, which was especially celebrated and copied by artists ranging from Siouxsie Sioux to Madonna, were referenced, but also questioned as to the purpose of these films. Was it to shock? To excite? Or were there questions about the nature of power and violence? Rachel raises important questions as to the nature of these films and their impact on punk rock, popular music, and fashion, questioning whether they introduced a kind of Nazi-chic that remains relevant today as people rightly scrutinize the fashy fashion choices of ICE thug Gregory Bovino.

I was drawn to this book since it is a book about music, and the striking cover, featuring what looks like a Hitler youth banging a drum, really grabbed my attention as well. It’s a familiar picture, looking like something from either Joy Division album artwork or a recent Turning Point for Elementary School recruitment poster. While the book sometimes goes down a historical Hitler hole, deeply researching connections between history and the music Rachel discusses, it’s still a deeply important and timely book. Rachel’s research and connections made me question the music I consumed, and while I will still listen to the Ramones, Joy Division, The Stooges, Slayer, and Motorhead, I think it’s important to consider how the images they use are possibly pushing aside the horrors and atrocities of the Third Reich. I’m glad that in the last section of the book, Rachel references the infamous Dead Kennedy’s song about Nazi punks, and how they used that song to promote anti-racism, selling arm bands with crossed-out swastikas. For me, in a lot of ways, punk and metal was more about questioning this kind of overbearing authority and finding ways to assert your own voice, be your own person, amidst a society that will sometimes brutally push individuals towards conformity. Furthermore, the actions of education, awareness, and remembrance are even more important as US government officials like Elon Musk are given passes and grace for Nazi salutes, only to make Nazi-themed jokes on his social media account. I just kept thinking about the absurdity of this situation, where some of the most powerful people in the world were seemingly endorsing these policies, and remembered to the events in VA in 2017, where Trump celebrated, in his words, some “very fine people, on both sides,” and his continued refusal to disavow racism and bigotry from followers like the Proud Boys and David Duke. Rachel’s book is an important read, not only for music fans, but for anyone who consumes media today. It’s important to be aware of the kinds of messages that are swirling around, and how powerful groups can use images, propaganda, and catchy slogans to win over hearts and minds, attempting to sway our beliefs. Furthermore, Rachel’s research in this book is an important reminder about how powerful and successful the Nazis were in manipulation- in using images, slogans, and misinformation to sway so many people or to cover up their atrocities in the guise of nationalism, patriotism, duty, and honor. This book is important to remember those lessons from history because as Jello Biafra sang in the Dead Kennedy’s famous song “You’ll be the first to go, unless you think.” Highly recommended!

 

PS-

As I was reading this, I was thinking about how contextual a lot of these references to swastikas can be. I visited Hong Kong about 10 years ago, and I had the opportunity to go to the Lantau Buddha, which is a giant statue of Buddha, over 34 meters tall. It's an amazing monument that was initiated by monks from a nearby temple. 

The Buddha sits high atop mountains, holding up a hand in a display of peace and equanimity. All around the monument are various reminders of the tenets of Buddhism, about suffering and compassion, and with thousands of visitors there to pay respect and homage, it's also a reminder of our interconnectedness. Nevertheless, it was jarring for me to see swastikas along the fence of this monument. 

However, as Rachel noted in the book, the swastika is an ancient symbol used by many cultures before it was hijacked by the Nazis. In the later section of the book, Rachel calls out a k-pop artist who wore a shirt with Sid Vicious wearing the swastika shirt. I was thinking about how in other cultures, particularly Asian cultures, the idea of a swastika has a much different meaning. Furthermore, schools in these cultures present history and learning in much different ways. What they emphasize might be different, and I would imagine that Korea, a nation that was occupied by Japan for many years, where people experienced the cruelty and violence of Japan's imperialism, might emphasize other lessons from WWII than Nazism. I'm not making any excuses, but I do think that in these other contexts, especially in different cultures, the swastika takes on a different meaning, and the emphasis on the atrocities from WWII might lean more on the Japanese than the Germans. I would imagine that you probably wouldn't find her wearing a Japan (the band) shirt or any images of the rising sun. It just reminded me of the contextual differences of the use of the swastika throughout the book, and how so many different factors from historical context, cultural influences and norms, among other influences all impact our reception to these symbols. 

A New Twist on The Wild West: Cave Grave: Wild West Tales by Shawn Kuruneru

 Cave Grave: Wild West Tales 

by Shawn Kuruneru

Cave Grave book cover

Artist and author Shawn Kuruneru 

Many thanks to Oni Press and NetGalley for allowing me to preview Cave Grace: Wild West Tales by Shawn Kuruneru. I was not familiar with Kuruneru’s work, but according to his biography and commentary at the end of this collection, he is a comic artist from Canada who independently published these stories, but Oni Press has now compiled them into one collection for distribution to a larger audience. I’m glad that they did because these were cool stories with creative and atmospheric artwork. When I initially saw that these were Wild West tales, I assumed that they were stories about gun fights and double crossing; while there are those elements to these stories, they also have a kind of supernatural or spectral feel to them. Furthermore, the simple color-scheme of browns, orange, black and white creates adds to the focus on the characters and their actions while also highlighting the desolate and lonely environment that these characters stalk through, both seeking fortune and escaping danger. The first story is “Cave Grave,” and it is a great story of deceit and trickery, but also with a clever twist. The dialogue is simple and not complicated, and I especially loved the scenery images that are interspersed between the different scenes. I think those images help to not only communicate the change of scenery, but also emphasize the kind of isolation and loneliness of these characters. I won’t get into the twist in the story, but it was unexpected, and yet it shifted not just the story, but also the genre conventions, moving the story more towards and supernatural story. It was great, but I felt that it ended somewhat suddenly and wished it went on longer. The second story is “Poor Moon,” and while it is more of a traditional western story about a bounty hunter, there’s also a kind of spectral element to the story where the characters are all hunted in some ways by their pasts. The story moves quickly, starting with the ending, and then allowing the main character, Held, to tell us how he ended up chasing Cassie the Killer for the large bounty on her head. Held is a veteran of the war, although his crescent moon tattoo indicates he fought for the East, as we later learn. He becomes lost after the war, but finds bounty hunting a way to make money so he can enjoy the pleasures of life. While out pursuing one bounty, he encounters another ruthless bounty hunter named Algar who eventually takes Held’s eye. Held recovers, but vows vengeance on Algar, and through his pursuit of Cassie, it leads Held to one more fateful encounter with Algar. The story is tense, and like “Cave Grave,” I loved the atmospheric art between scenes. Although there is great scenery art that captures the mood and tone of the story, there’s one scene where Held is recuperating from losing his eye that truly captures “the dark places of his mind.” These few panels really stuck out to me as I was reading. Both stories move quickly and are hard to put down once you start reading them. Furthermore, the art work helps to convey the emotions and tones of the stories. Don’t let the simple color-scheme fool you; it adds to the themes of loneliness and isolation, and helps to simplify the outlook on the characters’ intense focus on money, greed, or revenge. This is a great collection of stories, and it made me want to check out more of Shawn Kuruneru’s work. I hope that Oni Press decides to publish more of his work. Highly recommended!

 

 Carbon Based: The Art of Lewis LaRosa 

by Lewis LaRosa

Carbon Based: The Art of Lewis LaRosa cover

Artist and illustrator Lewis LaRosa

Many thanks to Oni Press and NetGalley for allowing me to preview and advanced copy of this excellent collection of comic artist Lewis LaRosa’s work for comics including Marvel and Valiant titled Carbon Based: The Art of Lewis LaRosa. I wasn’t familiar with LaRosa’s work prior to this collection, but the striking image of a woman warrior riding a raptor-like creature and shooting arrows at a pursuing, ferocious t-rex immediately grabbed my attention since it resembled both the bold work of some of Oni’s recent EC revivals like Cruel Kingdon. Plus, it reminded me of some of the iconic work of Frank Frazetta, so I was glad to explore the works and worlds that LaRosa’s art has helped to create. Beyond the amazing art contained in this collection, readers also learn a little about LaRosa’s interesting career, where he got his start working on the Punisher MAX series. In this first section, we see LaRosa’s work, but the collection also contains sketches and notes. I loved seeing these drafts and sketches since it helped me better understand LaRosa’s process of developing not just characters, but also conveying the themes and tones of the narrative story. I enjoyed this kind of visual development of the process involved in the story telling that moves beyond words. Furthermore, readers can see how as LaRosa’s skills and knowledge of working in comics develop, his art and work continue to convey more of the narrative elements of the story. In some of the later work from Bloodshot and Harbinger Wars, readers can get a sense of how LaRosa’s art, use of colors, and even close-up and zoom out of the images convey the action and possible motivations of characters. Other notes and sketches provide fascinating details about the fine details of certain characters. For example, in the section on Ka-Zer MAX we see some notes about one of the characters and various sketches that portray the character in different perspectives. In another section, he has this interesting character who has a kind of infection that has created a kind of skin-shield over him that not only protects him, but also has infected his mind. It’s a brilliant way to create and portray this character whose strength is also his downfall. In another Bloodshot storyline, LaRosa has this great description about how the establishing shot has to be “awful” and he wants the readers to “smell the dank odor” as they encounter the white supremacists’ compound. All of the images from this section are creepy and evocative, while also doing much to convey the story’s narrative. If anything, this book has made me want to check out more of the comics that LaRosa has worked on. However, what stood out most was LaRosa’s work on dinosaurs. As he notes in the brief texts that accompany much of the art, he is a fanatic about dinosaurs, and like a lot of kids, developed this interest in them from an early age. However, LaRosa has moved beyond an interest in dinosaurs and has used research and findings in paleontology to hone his craft in creating increasingly realistic images of dinosaurs. There’s one sketch of several anatomical perspectives of the dinosaurs that allows readers to better learn more detailed and specific his work on these creates are.

What I found most interesting, though, was that LaRosa had this period where he was teaching and not working in comics. It wasn’t until someone from Valiant reached out after 2010 that he came back to working in comics, which enabled him to move into not just the artistry, but also doing cover work for Valiant comics. The cover work is great as well, and I’m glad that this edition was able to present much of his more recent cover work in color. This was a great collection, especially if you are a fan of Lewis LaRosa’s work. However, even if you are not, it’s a great entryway into some of this striking and original art, and it enables readers to gain a better sense of LaRosa’s artistic process and what is can be like to work in comics. Highly recommended! 

Synthesis of Sounds: When Rock Met Hip-Hop by Steven Blush

 When Rock Met Hip-Hop: How Run-DMC, Aerosmith, Anthrax, The Beastie Boys, and More Crossed Cultural and Musical Boundaries by Steven Blush

When Rock Met Hip-Hop book cover

Author Steven Blush

Big props to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for allowing me to preview Steven Blush’s fun and necessary book documenting the intersection of Rock and Hip-Hop over the past 50 years titled When Rock Met Hip-Hop: How Run-DMC, Aerosmith, Anthrax, The Beastie Boys, and More Crossed Cultural and Musical Boundaries. I was so excited to find this book, not only because I loved books about rock and hip-hop, but also because it’s by Steven Blush, whose American Hardcore basically reinvented music journalism for underground and misrepresented genres. Blush’s applies the same approach he used in American Hardcore here in When Rock Met Hip-Hop, where he  includes interviews with the primary artists involved in rock and hip-hop’s intersection as well as his own commentary and analysis of the music and movements associated with these gradual experiments in genre crossover. The book charts a predominantly chronological approach to examining these artists and the musical movements they helped to synthesize over time. I loved how Blush identifies the shared space that rock, especially genres like punk and metal, and hip-hop occupy. The beginning of the book focuses on the early innovators of hip-hop and how they frequently used rock beats as breakbeats, looking especially at Billy Squier, who would seem like an 80s artist not really aligned with hip-hop, but whose songs “Big Beat” and “The Stroke” have provided some foundations for early hip-hop classics. Blush also spends time exploring other early hip-hop artists and how they frequently made use of rock beats and instrumentation in their work. It’s a fascinating look at the early days of hip-hop and how, in many ways, Black artists were reinventing popular music in a wholly unique way.

Blush spends most of this section of the book in NYC, where hip-hop was born, and this leads us to Run-DMC and Def Jam, which is where some of the earliest attempts at brining together rock and hip-hop musicians to collaborate on songs happens. Although most would cite the Run-DMC and Aerosmith “Walk This Way” as the first major rock and rap collaboration, Blush cites some earlier examples, with Anthrax providing the beat for The Lone Rager’s “Metal Rap” in 1983. Blush also explores how Blondie’s experience in downtown NYC led to collaborations with Fab 5 Freddy and Basquiat to appear in their “Rapture” video, which included a rap by Debbie Harry. Interestingly, they did not say this was a rap song, but rather a song with rapping in it. Just like when I read American Hardcore over 20 years ago, I loved reading this book and finding new groups and songs to chase down and listen to in order to find these new examples of hip-hop and rock.

The Def Jam section was one of my favorite from this book since it focuses on not only Run-DMC, but also how the collaborative work of Russell Simmons and Rick Rubin helped to initiate a lot of this musical synthesis. Rubin, a fan of punk and metal, teamed up with Simmons, a party promoter, to create the iconic hip-hop label, which had the top hip-hop groups in the 80s and early 90s. Def Jam’s roster included The Beastie Boys, who started out as a punk band, and Public Enemy, whose songs “Sophisticated B….” and “She Watched Channel Zero” included amazing guitar work from Vernon Reid and a sample from Slayer’s “Angel of Death” respectively. PE also collaborated with Anthrax after they covered “Bring the Noise,” creating one of the more iconic and brash rock and rap collaborations form the early 90s. Interestingly too, I learned that Kerry King from Slayer played on License to Ill’s “No Sleep Till Brooklyn” and “Fight for Your Right to Party,” also appearing in the video with a wig. These are the kinds of tidbits I loved finding out in the book as well. Blush follows the careers and discography of PE and the Beasties to note how both bands gradually cultivated sounds that led to more synthesizing of rock and rap, and both bands moving more towards the hard and fast approaches to rock and rap.

Blush’s strengths throughout the book are that he’s thorough and brings a critical eye to the music and various forces and trends that drive the changes in rap and rock, whether it’s technology, shared ideas and philosophies, or even money and marketing. While the first part of the book is a deep dive into NYC and the East Coast scenes that birthed some of the most memorable rap and rock collaborations from the 1990s. I liked how Blush reviews the contributions from various bands running the gamut from Biohazard to Fun Loving Criminals in the mid to late 90s. I had some questions, though, about the inclusion of bands like 3^rd Bass, who were on Def Jam and apparently opened and replied to Slayer’s fan mail (Rick Rubin produced Slayer), but never made any rap-rock music. They had Henry Rollins in their video for “Pop Goes the Weasel,” which sampled Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer,” but I couldn’t really understand their inclusion in the book. I understood the inclusion of other bands like House of Pain and Cypress Hill since they both were on the Judgement Night Soundtrack and also ended up incorporating more rock and live instrumentation in their music. Similarly, Young Black Teenagers were included, but they did not include rock in their music beyond an album cover that looked like The Beatles. I think the section on the Judgment Night soundtrack was also the beginning of the end of the rap-rock collaboration. I loved this soundtrack in high school, and Blush spends some time arguing for its importance in helping to foster this collaboration. I also liked this section since he provides some insight from interviews of the artists about how the artists worked together to make music. It was fascinating since many of them hadn’t worked with different artists beyond Cypress Hill, Biohazard, Onyx, and Run-DMC. They all described the challenges, but also discussed the ways they managed to find different methods of collaborating. Unfortunately, though, Blush notes that the popularity of this soundtrack and possibly the idea that synthesizing these genres could bring in more ears and money to spend on two popular genres eventually led to Nu-Metal, which was the downfall of the genre. I didn’t like this section as much, and I wasn’t sure if it was because I’m just not a fan of this music and really didn’t want to read much about it, or if it was because Blush’s style seemed to get a little less detailed and critical in this section. Maybe it’s because Nu Metal is just under-reported or researched, but I just didn’t really delve into it too much. It seemed like Nu Metal was more of a money grab and that bands like Limp Bizkit were like MTV creations who sold lots of records, and once the tastes shifted more to boy bands and other softer pop music, Nu Metal lost its flavor. It seemed like there was more to analyze and criticize here, but there also might not be enough information and willing participants to make a strong case at this moment. Nevertheless, it was interesting to consider that Trip Hop, another somewhat maligned 90s synthesis of genres, arose from this rock-rap ethos. I hadn’t considered that, especially because bands like Portishead and Massive Attack seemed on the opposite end of the rage spectrum. However, Blush makes some compelling arguments about including this genre into the rap-rock rubric.

This book is a must have for any music fan who grew up in the 80s, 90s, or 2000s. Like Blush’s American Hardcore, this is essential reading for learning more about the evolution of rock music, and how hip-hop helped propel and energize rock in the 80s and 90s. Blush drops science with fun facts and information but also has some really interesting takes about the music. For example, when discussing Dr. Dre’s interest in creating Ghetto Metal with Eazy E, he notes that Jerry Heller, the head of Priority Records, may have died because of the way he was portrayed in Straight Outta Compton, which was both strange and fascinating. The book is full of these fun nuggets (and one Nugent too), so it serves as a good reference book as well. I especially loved the appendix of Lost Gems. My listening list has grown considerably since reading this book. Highly recommended!

Exploring the Works of a Master Director: Long Take by Akira Kurosawa

 Long Take by Akira Kurosawa 

(translated by Anne McKnight)

Long Take book cover

Author and director Akira Kurosawa

Many thanks to University of Minnesota Press and NetGalley for allowing me to read an advanced copy of Long Take, an amazing collection of interviews and reflections by Akira Kurosawa and his daughter, with a clear and fluid translation by Anne McKnight. I actually appreciated McKnight’s description and rationale for her approach to translating words and phrases, while keeping other Japanese terms intact in these interviews. As a fan of Kurosawa’s films, I found this book to be wonderful. I loved hearing from him about his work on films, his approach to stories and direction, and especially learning more about the production and challenges he faced during some of his most iconic works. As McKnight explains in the introduction, the only real words we have from Kurosawa in English are his  autobiography, which was translated and published in America in the early 1980s. This book provides a more detailed focus on not just formative experiences and events that helped shape the career of one of the most famous and celebrated directors of all time, but also gives us further insight into his approach to work and how he sees stories that eventually become cinema. There are conversations and interviews in the beginning of the book that range from 1970 up until 1993, which covers a wide range of Kurosawa’s later work, but where he also discusses his earlier work. Some of the conversations include similar memories and events, so there are some moments of repetition in the book (especially if you read the introduction as well). However, it’s still fascinating to read Kurosawa’s words about his work with actors and extras, and how he viewed film crews as like families. I also loved learning more about how meticulous he was about color, light, and shots, frequently mentioning how challenging it was to capture certain shots at different times of day. In addition to his own work, Kurosawa frequently talks about other directors throughout the book, discussing in particular the influence of John Ford and how he was able to meet John Ford later in the American director’s life. There are some interesting stories that Kurosawa shares.

While I loved reading these discussions and interviews with Kurosawa to learn more about his artistic process and his thoughts about literature and film, some of the best moments are also from his daughter, Kazuko, who includes a farewell essay to her father exploring memories of being on film sets with him. However, the standout for me was her compilation of Kurosawa’s top one hundred films, chronologically arranged. As McKnight noted in the introduction, much of Kurosawa’s autobiography discusses early films that influenced him, particularly from the silent era. This collection includes many films that were made by Kurosawa’s contemporaries and some films from the 70s, 80s, and 90s when Kurosawa’s output had slowed. The list is great to have. He provides some details, often citing other works from these directors that he enjoys, and briefly identifying what factors from the film led to its inclusion on his list. It was really fun to read, and I’m sure that I will revisit this list to find some classics that I haven’t yet watched. Furthermore, reading about his films made me want to revisit some of my favorite Kurosawa films. This is a great book for film fans, and if you are a fan of Kurosawa, then this book is a must read. The interviews are easy and quick reads, yet offer a lot of interesting insights into Kurosawa’s art and work, and McKnight’s translation adds to a smooth and engaging read. Highly recommended!

Monsters in America: Godzilla Vs. America

 Godzilla Vs. America: Boston, Chicago, Kansas City, and Los Angeles by Tim Seeley, Caroline Cash, Gabriel Hardman, Dave Baker, and Jesse Lonergan

Godzilla Vs. America book cover

Big thanks to IDW Publishing and NetGalley for allowing me to preview an advanced copy of their latest entry in the Godzilla Monsterverse titled Godzilla Vs. America: Chicago, Kansas City, and Los Angeles. It’s an interesting concept where the king of monsters ends up on American soil, specifically targeting the four cities in the title and encountering local landmarks, events, and foods in his visit. I previously read Godzilla Heist, which was a synthesis of Godzilla with crime/action genre, and Godzilla Legends—Mothra, which was a cool time travel story about Mothra. Godzilla Vs. America follows a similar trend in these editions where Godzilla is placed in a unique situation and environment, and the authors and artists imagine what it would be like for Godzilla to visit and/or terrorize American cities. Each city in the collection has 4 stories with different authors and artists highlighting well known (and sometimes not as well known) history, landmarks, events, traditions, and food related to these cities. Although the premise is interesting, the execution doesn’t always land. There are several standout stories, and Boston was my favorite collection of stories in the book. In particular, “The Great Gorilla Whale” stood out to me as the best story in the collection. It’s like a Moby Dick type story, but with an old sailor retelling his tale as the only survivor of an encounter with Godzilla. The artistry and the story have a kind of Tales from the Crypt old school EC Comics feel to it. I loved it. There’s also a really cool story about a mutant lobster that grew due to a thrown away science experiment. The giant lobster was great looking, especially as it wages war for Boston with Godzilla. There’s also a brief, but beautifully illustrated story about Mothra (“Make Way for Mothra”), and a final story about a subway line. Nearly all of the cities feature stories with other kaiju monsters and subways. The LA story about the subway (“How to Use the Los Angeles Metro to Survive a Godzilla Attack!”) was like a history lesson that presents the history of the LA transportation system and how the unknown LA subway system developed. Although it was informative, the colors were brown and white, so it wasn’t as visually appealing as some of the other stories. Maybe it was just the way it appeared on my iPad but the visuals didn’t have the same pop as some of the other stories. Similarly, I liked the story “The Big Break” and the artistry was good, but the color scheme featured bright yellows that didn’t work as well with my digital copy. Regardless, author Jordan Morris and artist Nicole Goux capture what life in LA can be like trying to struggle in the entertainment industry. Kansas City and Chicago were ok. The Kansas City stories featured a lot on barbecue and hot sauce, while Chicago had a lot of interesting landmarks and a fun shout-out to Svengoolie. I especially like “Chi Godzilla” which features a great twist of irony, again reminiscent of the EC Comics where cosmic justice is eventually served. This was a fun collection, but it left me wanting more, especially in the stories. I hope that there is a consideration to expand Godzilla’s visits to other cities, but I’d also like to see maybe a longer, central story where there’s more development of the characters or an understanding of how and why Godzilla ended up in that city.   

Examining Identity and Disability in 19th Century Performers: Currencies of Cruelty

 Currencies of Cruelty: Slavery, Freak Shows, and the Performance Archive by Danielle Bainbridge

Currencies of Cruelty book cover

Author and scholar Danielle Bainbridge

Many thanks to NYU Press and NetGalley for the advanced copy of Danielle Bainbridge’s critical and thoughtful examination of the intersection of slavery, disability, and performance in Currencies of Cruelty: Slavery, Freak Shows, and the Performance Archive. This was a challenging yet rewarding read for the insight and voice it provides to several performers during the period of enslavement and the antebellum period that followed, with most of the focus centered on an amazing woman, Mille-Christine McKoy, whose conjoined body was promoted as one individual, who was two different people, or as Bainbridge notes their tombstone reads “a soul with two thoughts. Two hearts that beat as one.” This was a fascinating book that explored the extraordinary life of Mille-Christine McKoy and raised questions about her life where she was born into slavery, and how her disability afforded her status and opportunities to develop a voice. However, Bainbridge’s research and analysis into Mille-Christine’s life identifies that this wasn’t always as straightforward as historical archives might suggest, which raises further lines of inquiry into the nature and subjectivity of the recorded history and artifacts that researchers like Dr. Bainbridge encounter. I wasn’t expecting this line of questioning in the book, and it’s something that I will need to revisit and grapple with, especially since the last chapter that deals with texts and performances that descend from these archives and voices, both aural and silenced. Nevertheless, Dr. Bainbridge identifies gaps and areas in the archives where Mille-Christine’s voice(s) are mostly absent, and questions whether her performances are celebrations of her talent or exploitation of her enfreakment. Dr. Brainbridge’s research explores how earlier exploitation of Mille-Christine on stage as a girl led to her ability to reset the parameters of her performance, and to develop further skills including singing, dancing, and talking simultaneously in different languages, to further her individuality and humanity. Nevertheless, these performances were conducted under ownership, and despite her status as free after the Emancipation Proclamation, her prior enslavers as well as others sought to control Mille-Christine’s personhood. Dr. Bainbridge presents court cases and other letters from the Freedman’s Bureau sent on behalf of Mille-Christine’s parents that argued for her return to her family. Furthermore, Dr. Bainbridge compares Mille-Christine’s challenges to her autonomy and performances to other individuals who were often exhibited and exploited during the 19^th century before and after slavery including Chang and Eng Bunker, probably the most well-known conjoined twins, Joice Heth, the supposed nurse of George Washington, and Blind Tom Wiggins, a pianist and composer who possessed an incredible gift for music. In all of these cases, we see how exhibitors often exploited these individuals due to their uniqueness. I also found it interesting that Dr. Bainbridge notes how many of them served as symbolic representations for America as the question of slavery gradually ripped the country apart. Both the McKoys and the Bunkers conjoined status was often mentioned in the context of uniting the country together while Joice Heth, who was not nearly as old as PT Barnum claimed, served as a reminder of the beginning of the country. Furthermore, we see that this kind of exploitation and misrepresentation not only occurred in their lives, but often after death as well when Heth was publicly autopsied for paying customers and the Bunkers were cast after death, with their bodies, organs, and casts on display at Philadelphia’s Mütter Museum. Throughout Dr. Bainbridge’s book, there is a call for the respect and humanity these individuals deserved and often did not receive in life and after their deaths.

I also appreciated Dr. Bainbridge’s reflections on visiting the Mütter Museum, a museum I’ve been to a few times and actually took students on a field trip there (our school was a few blocks from the museum) to see an exhibit on presidential health. While I find the museum fascinating, I also find it to be a deeply disturbing place. Dr. Bainbridge’s reflection on her reflection was a great point to consider our own interests and fascination with difference, disability, and death, and it’s something that has stuck with me since reading the book. Overall this was a fascinating and thought-provoking book. Dr. Bainbridge’s questioning of historical archives and positing that they are future perfect, or rather always looking to shape the future by describing the past, kind of reminded me of School Teacher’s admission about the definitions belonging to definers in Morrison’s Beloved. Dr. Bainbridge’s deep and detailed questioning of the archives not only raise questions about the nature of power and voice in historical analysis, but they also led her to create her own performance and short film about Mille-Christine’s life, and compare her own production to other works that use archival material as a means to elevate new voices to the historical record. This is especially important since performers like Mille-Christine, the Bunkers, Blind Tom, and Joice Heth mostly were denied a voice being both people of color and people with disabilities, identities that intersected and provided them unique public exposure, yet also predetermined their identities. The last chapter on aural fugivity in these works was also interesting and left me wanting to read these poems (Olio and Zong!) and watch Dr. Bainbridge’s short film Curio, which was adapted from her stage production. I enjoyed reading about her process and ideas for creating the stage performance and then adapting it into a short film and consider the kinds of production changes she needed to make. Furthermore, I liked reading about how her work was inspired by and connected to the poems Olio and Zong!, inspiring me to seek out these texts.  While this chapter differed from the other more historical-based chapters that analyzed the archival materials related to Mille-Christine’s life, I think it showed how artists and scholars can use archival work to provide voice and humanity to the forgotten and misunderstood. Furthermore, it emphasizes the importance of not just aurality, but also silence, and how meaningful silence and the absence of voice can be when examining texts and archival materials. In fact, Dr. Bainbridge’s work will make me listen closer for the silences and pay more attention to the absences, since it’s not always what is written, but often times what is missing or hidden that adds additional meaning. Although this is a challenging read and a scholarly text that not only analyzes history but also theorizes about voice and identity in archives, it is a rewarding read that will challenge our thinking about history, archival materials, and identities, especially the identities of those with disabilities. Highly recommended!

Celebrating De La Soul in Austin McCoy's Living in a D.A.I.S.Y. Age

 Living in a D.A.I.S.Y. Age: The Music, Culture, and World De La Soul Made by Austin McCoy

Living in a D.A.I.S.Y. Age book cover

Author and scholar Austin McCoy

Big thanks to Atria Books and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Austin McCoy’s excellent book Living in a D.A.I.S.Y. Age: The Music, Culture, and World De La Soul Made, which to me is one of the best books about hip-hop I’ve read recently. About a year ago, I had the privilege of reading Marcus J. Moore’s great book about De La Soul titled High and Rising: A Book About De La Soul. While both books examine the works and impact of this seminal group, Moore’s book combines both band biography and a kind of memoir approach to their music to chart the significance of De La’s work on both hip-hop and the individual. McCoy’s book combines both memoir and critical analysis of the lyrics, artwork, and the entire D.A.I.S.Y. (Da Inner Sound Y’all)  ethos. Rather than being in competition, these books work as complimentary texts that help provide insight, depth, and a greater understanding of how De La Soul connected with fans, especially young Black men.

Dr. McCoy, who is a professor of African American history and labor at West Virginia University, organizes the book chronologically according to De La’s recorded output. Dr. McCoy’s analysis of each album focuses on lyrical content as well as the socio-historical context of the album’s creation. I loved this approach as he frames each album in the context of both events and trends of its time, as well examining how De La’s work challenged and shaped later movements and genres within hip-hop. I also loved that Dr. McCoy starts the book with an explanation about how he used De La within his History of Hip-Hop course, which I would have loved to take. However, as he notes, many of the students, who consume music via streaming services, were unable to access De La’s catalog due to conflicts with Tommy Boy Records. McCoy acknowledges that this inability to access the band’s classic back catalog often required students to purchase physical copies and also to focus on the entirety of the album, not just singles, which again counters the record industry’s approach to the disposability of hip-hop and pop music in general. These approaches that challenge the record industry also shape Dr. McCoy’s analysis and recognize the importance of De La’s work as artists and activists who fought record company practices to not only maintain their artistic integrity, but also to advocate for fair compensation for their work. As a scholar of labor, Dr. McCoy frequently notes how De La Soul’s lyrics and videos often challenged many of the popular tropes and themes of hip-hop moving from gangster rap in the late 80’s and 90’s to the shiny suit era of the later 90s and early 2000s, demonstrating that De La were one of the groups that actually kept it real. I really appreciated this acknowledgement of De La Soul’s ethos, and I think it speaks to their continuing relevance and endearment to fans. This is a band that celebrated reality and everyday life, and although faced many challenges, had fun doing it. In addition, by examining De La’s output chronologically, Dr. McCoy is able to trace how album’s like De La Soul is Dead  and Buhloone Mindstate are in dialogue with one another and De La’s classic debut 3 Feet High and Rising. He notes that Tommy Boy played up the daisy angle, framing the band as hippies, which is why their second album, De La Soul is Dead, is a much harder album. It’s this kind of close analysis of the artwork and lyrical content that makes Dr. McCoy’s book a fascinating and engaging read.

Dr. McCoy not only analyzes the primary texts of De La’s albums but also incorporates others sources to contextualize and add meaning to De La’s lyrics and artistic output. I was excited to see some books I’ve recently read including Dante Ross’s awesome memoir about working in the music business (Son of the City) and Max Felker-Kantor’s critical history and analysis of the DARE program (DARE to Say No), which help provide further context into not only the conditions of the record industry and De La’s work on their first album, but also provides some indication of socio-cultural topics and concerns arising in communities in the late 80s and early 90s. In particular, I just read a book about the Bernie Goetz trial (the excellent Fear and Fury by Heather Ann Thompson) that also takes a nuanced look at a similar time period that birthed De La. I loved how McCoy emphasizes that De La remained critical of the inequalities in society, aligning with the conscious rappers of the day like Public Enemy and Boogie Down Productions, yet also were able to provide an escape from stereotypes and projections of Black masculinity, offering listeners a positive mirror that challenged many of the negative reflections from the media. In addition, Dr. McCoy also cites an amazing Jelani Cobb essay I recently read and can’t stop thinking about (“Hip-Hop at Fifty: An Elegy” found in his amazing collection Three or More is a Riot). Both writers reflect on the death of Dave Jolicoeur, also known as Trugoy the Dove and Plug Two, and the more recent epidemic of rappers dying of preventable diseases and illnesses in middle age. It’s something that Chuck D raps about on the most recent PE album as well, although he repeatedly reminds listeners about his senior citizen status, which is still incredible to me. Regardless, there have been too many MCs and DJs who survived young adulthood only to be felled by illness and disease that falls short of typical life expectancy. As both McCoy and Cobb note, these kinds of trends are representative are larger inequalities in the health field where Black men typically experience shorter lifespans and lower quality of health than other groups. McCoy, however, further links his own family losses with the loss of Trugoy and other rappers, noting how De La in particular had to continue to tour and live life on the road (or labor) while not having access to their back catalog to make money from the new streaming economy. Furthermore, McCoy importantly notes that even once they regained control over their music, the terms and conditions for streaming largely favor tech companies and provide artists with less than minimal compensation for their labor and work. McCoy’s insight and teaching about this approach to music consumption not only raises readers’ consciousness about our entertainment choices but also comes with a plea to further consider purchasing physical media or using platforms that support artists’ work more. Throughout the book, McCoy includes important research and information that not only educates, but also challenges us to consider not only what we listen to, but how we engage with and consume these choices. I loved how much I learned and considered music, art, and the work that ground-breaking artists like De La Soul have created in the greater context of hip-hop and popular music. Furthermore, I loved that this is a book that is based on McCoy’s class, as he offers some teaching recommendations and pedagogical approaches to incorporating hip-hop in the classroom. As he notes from Marc Lamont Hill’s book about hip-hop pedagogy and other prominent educators like Gloria Ladson Billings, hip-hop is a language relevant to many of our students and using these texts and methods to teach are not only important for engagement, but also necessary and urgent due to the “cultural, political, and economic exigencies of the day.” As any teacher can tell, using popular music, especially culturally relevant music, is not only a great way to engage students, but also to encourage critical analysis of social and cultural issues in a familiar and supportive method. I didn’t expect McCoy’s book to make me think so much about De La’s impact, especially in regards to teaching, but I think that this is an incredible book that I recommend not only for lovers of hip-hop, but also teachers. It can provide some insight and ideas into incorporating hip-hop into the classroom, and more importantly, some excellent examples of critical analysis of lyrics and style. I absolutely loved this book and highly recommend it!

Ain't No New Thing: Fear and Fury: The Reagan Eighties, the Bernie Goetz Shootings, and the Rebirth of White Rage by Heather Thomspon

 Fear and Fury: The Reagan Eighties, the Bernie Goetz Shootings, and the Rebirth of White Rage by Heather Ann Thompson

Fear and Fury book cover

Author and scholar Heather Ann Thompson

Many thanks to Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor and NetGalley for allowing me to read an advanced copy of Heather Ann Thompson’s detailed and compelling new book Fear and Fury: The Reagan Eighties, the Bernie Goetz Shootings, and the Rebirth of White Rage. I was floored by the events in this book, and I’m glad that Thompson has re-examined the facts of this case, including the lives of Goetz’s victims, James Ramesuer, Darrell Cabey, Barry Allen, and Troy Canty. While Thompson’s book accomplishes many things, one of the most important is to humanize these victims who were degraded and criminalized for being young Black men in NYC not only by the violent judgement of Bernie Goetz, but also by the emerging NYC tabloid press, The NY Post, which was acquired by Rupert Murdoch in the late 1970s. Thompson details how Reagan’s cultivation of white resentment through targeting civil rights and poverty initiatives from the 1930s through the 1960s led to his election and mandate to cut government waste, with the unstated consequences of easing taxes for the aristocracy and corporations. Whether it was magical thinking or just a kind of splashy statement that would silence critics, the trickle down economics never happened, and income inequality worsened as those in big cities and those who lived below the poverty line saw reductions in services and aid that helped with everything from accessing food, housing and education. Sound familiar? In reading this, it was hard to stomach the ways that conservatives have repurposed Reagan’s failed ideas, ignoring the damage it wrought to all Americans, but in particular the injustices and inequalities that deepened for Black Americans. However, while Thompson draws parallels between society and politics in America today and America 40-45 years ago, the main focus of this book is on how this context set the stage for the kind of vigilantism that Bernhard Goetz was allowed to perpetuate on 4 Black teenagers in a NYC subway in 1984.

While I don’t remember when this even occurred, I do remember some aspects of the trial, which occurred significantly after it happened. I also think that Wu-Tang Clan’s “Clan in da Front” helped to remind me about “Bernhard Goetz what he deserves,” shouting out the kind of injustice and violence that was a part of being young and Black in NYC in the 80s and 90s. Regardless, it was shocking to learn more about this case and the way that it played out in the media, which ended up shaping not only public opinion, but also that of the jury. A majority of the book details the actual shooting, its aftermath, and the trial, which took place nearly 3 years after the shooting. Thompson’s research and retelling lets us know about the lives of both the teenage victims and their shooter. It was interesting to learn about Bernie’s own troubles with authority, his inability to hold a job, and his disgust with NYC. Although his family moved to Orlando after his father was revealed to have inappropriate relationships with young boys, I was surprised that Bernie never moved there since he seemed to really despise the city. Furthermore, Thompson shares the challenges that the boys experienced as NYC slipped into debt and in particular the Bronx experienced a series of fires in the late 70s. The city takes on its own important role in Thompson’s book, noting how crime, cuts, politics, economics, race, and growing diversity with urban flight all played roles in heightening tensions and distrust among different groups of people. In fact, as Thompson presents the shooting and the trials of Goetz, we see how biases and beliefs were already shaped based on the perceptions of the events, rather than the actual evidence or outcomes. I was shocked to see the ways that these boys were convicted in public without any kind of trial. There was no presumption of innocence for them, and yet, the man who actually pulled the trigger, who shockingly went back to shoot Darrell Cabey, telling him he didn’t look so bad, was applauded, rewarded, and treated as a hero in the city, although not by all. The boys were repeatedly referred to as criminals, violent thugs, whose intention was to rob, yet they were not even tried or charged with any crimes. It was shocking, but also not surprising in the examination of the history of white rage and vigilantism, which Thompson presents more recent examples of Trayvon Martin, Ahmaud Arbery, and most recently Jordan Neely, whose killer was invited to watch the Army Navy football game with the president and vice president. Thompson also mentions other prominent extrajudicial killings, including acquitted murderer Kyle Rittenhouse, to show how Goetz’s trial and acquittal on more serious charges wasn’t a bug, but rather a feature of the American justice system that often allows for violence and a wide berth of “self-defense” for some citizens, but not others. Thompson’s book helps to highlight how Goetz’s trial was conducted not just in the courtroom, but also in the court of public opinion, and helped to leverage the kind of white rage and fear that presented him as a sympathetic figure to many in NYC, rather than the violent, paranoid thug he was.

The entire book was shocking, especially when we consider the consequences of Goetz’s decision to shoot these boys, and how it impacted their lives, as well as the lives of those around them. Darrell Cabey, who was paralyzed and as a result of injuries to his spine and lungs, experienced oxygen deprivation that led to brain damage, is given the most attention in the book. However, all of the boys experienced physical and psychological consequences as a result of Goetz’s violence. In one of the most shocking moments of the book, Thompson details Cabey’s family’s attempts to sue Goetz in civil litigation mainly to help cover costs of the constant care required for him. Darrell was not only paralyzed, but had limited memory, which required help with daily tasks and bodily functions. Goetz, now serving as his own lawyer, requested to depose Cabey (and his mom), believing that Cabey was faking his injuries and brain damage for money. It’s hard to believe that someone who purposefully shot an unarmed teen, leading to paralysis and brain damage, would be so cynical and callous. What was even more shocking was that the judge, after several reports from physicians detailing Cabey’s mental capacity, would allow this deposition to occur. I’m curious to learn other’s perspectives on how utterly inhumane and degraded Goetz is after thinking that someone would fake brain damage for money.

In addition to Goetz’s disgusting behavior, it was also shocking to learn that he not only went on the run for more than a week after the shooting, fleeing to New Hampshire, but also that he eventually turned himself in, making a full confession after waiving his right to counsel. Despite acknowledging the boys posed no real threat and that he intended to violently harm and kill these boys, Goetz was acquitted of murder. Thompson provides a postmortem that goes through the jury’s reasoning, based on interviews and one of the jurist’s memoir of the trial. I won’t get into those details, but it was shocking to see the kinds of inferences they make to lead to an acquittal. Thompson’s book is a shocking, but important read today, especially as violence, both institutional and physical, continues to escalate. In the last section, Thompson details the more modern analogues for the Goetz shooting and trial, and how other cases and more recently racial violence and white rage have been increasing under Trump. While it’s not the main focus in the book, it does serve an important reminder and as a warning about how marshalling this kind of resentment and rage can have violent and dire consequences. Truly an important book to read in 2026. Highly recommended!