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Somebody with a Little Hammer: Essays
From one of the most singular presences in American fiction comes a searingly intelligent book of essays on matters literary, social, cultural, and personal. Whether she’s writing about date rape or political adultery or writers from John Updike to Gillian Flynn, Mary Gaitskill reads her subjects deftly and aphoristically and moves beyond them to locate the deep currents of longing, ambition, perversity, and loneliness in the American unconscious. She shows us the transcendentalism of the Talking Heads, the melancholy of Björk, the playfulness of artist Laurel Nakadate. She celebrates the clownish grandiosity and the poetry of Norman Mailer’s long career and maps the sociosexual cataclysm embodied by porn star Linda Lovelace. And in the deceptively titled “Lost Cat,” she explores how the most intimate relationships may be warped by power and race.
Witty, tender, beautiful, and unsettling, Somebody with a Little Hammer displays the same heat-seeking, revelatory understanding for which we value Gaitskill’s fiction.
Witty, tender, beautiful, and unsettling, Somebody with a Little Hammer displays the same heat-seeking, revelatory understanding for which we value Gaitskill’s fiction.
288 pages, Hardcover
First published April 4, 2017
115 people are currently reading
3849 people want to read
About the author
Mary Gaitskill
70 books1,442 followersMary Gaitskill is an American author of essays, short stories and novels. Her work has appeared in The New Yorker, Harper's Magazine, Esquire, The Best American Short Stories (1993 and 2006), and The O. Henry Prize Stories (1998). She married writer Peter Trachtenberg in 2001. As of 2005, she lived in New York City; Gaitskill has previously lived in Toronto, San Francisco, and Marin County, CA, as well as attending the University of Michigan where she earned her B.A. and won a Hopwood Award. Gaitskill has recounted (in her essay "Revelation") becoming a born-again Christian at age 21 but lapsing after six months.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 119 reviews
July 28, 2017
My god to write and think like Mary Gaitskill. There is a piece in this collection that was written as far back as 1997 about date rape and I thought - do I need to read this? should I skim it since that is so long ago and Jon Krakauer and Laura Kipnis and all the new takes on sexism on college campuses - but I read it and was enthralled by her trenchant criticism and insight and amazingly interesting sensibiility that left me thinking about consent and how girls are socialized and what it means to be an adult who takes responsibility, and my own life and the culture, too. Every single piece in this collection is like that: each made me think and disturbed or delighted me in different ways. A lot of Gaitskill's literary and music criticism is included here, also a long personal essay first published in Granta about losing her cat - but it's about so many other things at the same time. All her writing seems articulate and opinionated while feeling just somehow different from how other writers do it, I think because of how she writes so personally and how she makes extremely complicated observations without apology. And she's funny, too.
August 4, 2025
In my view, the test of a good essay collection is its ability to make you interested in topics that would not normally even register on your Reader Radar (coining it?...Readar!). David Foster Wallace does this in A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again: Essays and Arguments (e.g.an eternal week on a cruise ship = the supposedly fun title essay thing); Martin Amis does this with chess, the royal family, or, his poems aside, the life and loves of Philip Larkin; and Mary Gaitskill does this with Celine Dion, Linda Lovelace, and Gillian Flynn's Gone Girl—as well as, of course, with lost cats, in Lost Cat.
Indeed, many if not most of her subjects were—always an excellent thing—entirely new to me. I have almost no knowledge of the works of Joyce Carol Oates (but now I may well read her); I have never read Peter Pan (and now I really should); and I only serendipitously read Norman Mailer— The Castle in the Forest —at the same time as landing upon Gaitskill's superb essay on his Armies of the Night/American Dream (and I shall definitely read more). Similarly, before reading this book, Nicholson Baker was a cipher to me, and I had never seen numerous other names (Rawi Hage, Marlene von Niekirk, Natsuo Kirino, and Laurel Nakadate) in print.
So Mary Gaitskill is quite literally world-expanding for me. That's one thing.
Another is that her approach to reviewing is never less than fair and is usually even rigorously empathetic—it actually felt like she "gave over" to a work of art entirely before pulling back, thinking about it, then checking in with how she felt about that, before questioning whether said feeling was entirely fair, then validating the right of that feeling to exist before pointing out several ways in which it missed crucial details, all of which needed to be taken into account before making a (very) considered judgment... in this, it was just thrilling to watch her mind at work.
Not that she was afraid of taking a stand. For example, on Elizabeth Wurtzel's Bitch:
Finally, from the Didn't Expect That Department, it was in her essay on the Book of Revelations where I found the perfect quote to sum up Mary Gaitskill in a nutshell:
When I read "And they blasphemed the God of heaven because of their pain and their sores, and did not repent of their deeds," I think of myself and others I’ve known or know who blaspheme life itself by failing to have the courage to be honest and kind—and how then we rage around and lash out because we hurt....
—i.e., in her own unfailing honesty towards her subjects and herself, the writer never fails to be kind, generous, and indeed courageous.
Indeed, many if not most of her subjects were—always an excellent thing—entirely new to me. I have almost no knowledge of the works of Joyce Carol Oates (but now I may well read her); I have never read Peter Pan (and now I really should); and I only serendipitously read Norman Mailer— The Castle in the Forest —at the same time as landing upon Gaitskill's superb essay on his Armies of the Night/American Dream (and I shall definitely read more). Similarly, before reading this book, Nicholson Baker was a cipher to me, and I had never seen numerous other names (Rawi Hage, Marlene von Niekirk, Natsuo Kirino, and Laurel Nakadate) in print.
So Mary Gaitskill is quite literally world-expanding for me. That's one thing.
Another is that her approach to reviewing is never less than fair and is usually even rigorously empathetic—it actually felt like she "gave over" to a work of art entirely before pulling back, thinking about it, then checking in with how she felt about that, before questioning whether said feeling was entirely fair, then validating the right of that feeling to exist before pointing out several ways in which it missed crucial details, all of which needed to be taken into account before making a (very) considered judgment... in this, it was just thrilling to watch her mind at work.
Not that she was afraid of taking a stand. For example, on Elizabeth Wurtzel's Bitch:
Her rage is like that of an id in furious argument with a superego, with no intervening ego—no real adult voice.Or, on Rawi Hage's Cockroach:
To overpraise is a subtle form of disrespect—and everybody knows it.Or on art and mainstream criticism:
I essentially was doing what I had seen most mainstream cultural critics do; it was from them that I learned to view works of art in terms of the message they imparted and, further, that the message could be judged on the basis of consensual ideas about what life is, and how it can and should be seen. My ideas, like most PC ideas, were only slightly different from mainstream thought—they just shifted the parameters of acceptability a bit.Or, on the (mostly) right way to go about it (on Greil Marcus on Dylan):
Things haven’t changed that much: At least half the book and film reviews that I read praise or condemn a work on the basis of the likability of the characters (as if there is a standard idea of what is likable) or because the author’s point of view is or is not “life-affirming”—or whatever the critic believes the correct attitude toward life to be. The lengthy and rather hysterical debate about the film Thelma & Louise, in which two ordinary women become outlaws after one of them shoots the other’s would-be rapist, was predicated on the idea that stories are supposed to function as instruction manuals, and that whether the film was good or bad depended on whether the instructions were right. Such criticism assumes that viewers or readers need to see a certain type of moral universe reflected back at them or, empty vessels that they are, they might get confused or depressed or something
A good song carries in each phrase fragments of thought, feeling, and sensation, all going by in a flash. It refers to things everybody knows, but it’s rooted in the specific muck of whoever wrote it/sings it. If it’s live, it includes the quick, erotic language of the body, a language at once too subtle and fundamental to be understood by the mind. So, along comes the intellectual writer and—oops! He’s squeezing down on the poor thing so hard, you think he’ll kill it, except he can’t even get his hands on it. Unless he’s Greil Marcus [...]Or on what compelled her to finish Gillian Flynn's Gone Girl:
Marcus doesn’t grope and crush his subject in the way many critics do, because his writing works much like music: It flies by in a comet tail, pieces of thought, feeling, and image all scrambled together. These components are often not fully developed in the way one would typically expect of an essay, but, rather, play off one another with enigmatic grace of sound. When it works, it’s brilliant and sensually delightful, broad, almost corny, at one turn, piercing and refined at the next.
The only reason I kept reading was that, having bought the book in hardcover, I took it with me on a long train ride and it was better than obsessively checking my messages (which *is* something). As I read, I began to find the thing genuinely frightening. By the time the train ride was over, I felt I was reading something truly sick and dark—and in case you don’t know, I’m supposedly sick and dark.You don't get that "sick and dark" in these pages, though. What you do get is some great writing and some really great reading. Other than Martin Amis, I can't think of a writer whom I'd rather read on Updike than Updike (when he's good) himself. Here, he's not so good, and it's worth taking some time to watch Gaitskill show us why in her review of Licks of Love, a late book I hadn't even heard of before now—and one I don't think I'll be reading. Still, Gaitskill doesn't go "out of her way" to see what's valuable in (to take a well-known example) Updike's Rabbit Angstrom—she just sees it:
Even though art is expressed through an individual personality, if it is any good at all, it is not about that personality in a literal sense. John Updike does typically feature male protagonists who are selfish, horny, socially conservative, and *irresistible* to young pussy. I’m sure that this reflects Updike’s personality in some way, but I would not be so quick to say exactly how, even if Piet, Rabbit, et al. seem to function as mouthpieces for their author’s opinions. Because, at his best, Updike places these predictable characters in landscapes as mundane as, yet infinitely more mysterious than, the personalities of those characters seem to be [...]And when Updike goes off the rails, she stresses that it's a failure of art, of Updike as artist which is most at stake, not some anodyne moral principal. Readers should expect (because they deserve) a multivalent poetry of the human experience which truly reflects in some way the manifold complexities of that experience, does honour to it, in Milan Kundera's terms seeks to explore what it doesn't, perhaps cannot, or not fully. understand:
It’s as if Updike has entered a tiny window marked “Rabbit” and, by some inverse law, passed into a universe of energies both light and dark, expanded and contracted, infinite and workaday. In this place, Rabbit’s flaws and opinions are just another bit of mutable energy, familiar and yet unknowable as the “jiggling star.” If “Rabbit” is how Updike gets to this numinous place, it seems small to stand there fuming that the entry point is not the right one, or worrying that Updike’s use of this entry means that he, personally, is narcissistic [...]
Updike’s characters have always veered toward the topical, but in the previous Rabbit books, the banal (and realistic) talk was intercut with what Anthony Burgess characterized as “the poetry of digression”—that is, apparently unrelated descriptions of, say, a television broadcast in a crummy bar. These digressions are like hidden pockets of thought and feeling, and they subtly elucidate the characters in ways that dialogue alone can rarely achieve.
Such poetry is sorely missed here [...] The book has another problem, one that negatively echoes one of Updike’s strengths—his compassion. In the past, the blunt, helpless ugliness of his characters was presented in such a way that you could not overlook it—nor could you overlook how it made them human. The detailed precision with which he drew their lives was never merely aesthetic; it served to locate the reader in the characters’ skin in a way that went beyond ideology, beyond personal affinity, even beyond words. Whether you liked Rabbit or not, you felt him. You felt his blundering animal questing in the sensate prose. For Updike to weave such vulnerable animality together with the opinionated stridency of Rabbit or one of his antagonists required a profound, tough-minded compassion that did not morally let Rabbit, the reader, or the author off the hook [...]That could stand as a template not only for how Gaitskill reads others' work, but also how she approaches her own characters—as well as how she would have us read her reading and writing them.
I understand this impulse, or at least I think I do—many authors must secretly itch to stop torturing their characters, to spread their arms and give it up, making everything right in the end. In *Rabbit Remembered,* Nelson thinks, “But order and organization must be kept in the world. Ties of affection must be expressed, or nothing holds,” and the thought casually reflects one of Updike’s great themes: the tension between emotion and order, indulgence and rigor, cruelty and love. In past books, you felt the characters’ awkward, sometimes belligerent attempts to negotiate between the two poles, and you felt their disappointment when they failed; you also recognized their pained efforts to accommodate that failure. In glossing over the failures here, I think Updike means to show affection, not only for his characters but for the reader, even for life. It’s an admirable and, I believe, sincere intention. But “affection” that makes light of ugliness and pain is not very deep. Weighted too heavily on the side of indulgence, this new book lacks dramatic tension; if everything’s so easily all right in the end, it doesn’t matter much what the characters do.
Finally, from the Didn't Expect That Department, it was in her essay on the Book of Revelations where I found the perfect quote to sum up Mary Gaitskill in a nutshell:
When I read "And they blasphemed the God of heaven because of their pain and their sores, and did not repent of their deeds," I think of myself and others I’ve known or know who blaspheme life itself by failing to have the courage to be honest and kind—and how then we rage around and lash out because we hurt....
—i.e., in her own unfailing honesty towards her subjects and herself, the writer never fails to be kind, generous, and indeed courageous.
August 2, 2018
3.5 stars -- rounded up on the strength of "Lost Cat: A Memoir."
July 4, 2018
To clear up one important detail, this is not just a collection of essays. There are reviews here, pre-published reviews on books, music, and movies. If you want personal essays, you will get that, but you will also get several reviews on things you might not care about. Some of us do; but you might not. So be aware of that before you open these pages and tread carefully. Skip the ones you don't want to read. Or just read "Lost Cat: A Memoir" which is the longest piece in the book and skillfully braids the loss of her beloved cat, the death of her father, and a relationship she and her husband had with a set of non-biological children.
All in all, these are interesting essays/reviews. I may not have agreed with every one of her thoughts, but there's no essayist (yet) that I agree with 100%. Gaitskill is a curious woman, whether discussing her multiple rapes as a young woman and how she dealt with the realization later, or her strong opinions on Vladimir Nabokov or Linda Lovelace, she articulates every one of her thoughts and beliefs in a way that makes it difficult to turn away.
Because her essays/reviews range from 1994-2016, the majority of writing here was written prior to 2010 and therefore feel sometimes dated. I'm not sure if Gaitskill's opinions might have changed or only become stronger over time. I know my own opinions have changed since 1994 or even 2010. It would be interesting to read more contemporary essays but in this collection, the most recent writing takes up only about a quarter of the book.
I'm still not sure if I want to read any of her fiction, to be honest. I know she is somewhat known for being dark (and she admits it in one of her essays), but I didn't care much for Secretary, so that gives me pause. (The performances were great; but the subject matter itself isn't appealing to me.)
It was interesting reading this on the heels of Meghan Daum's The Unspeakable: And Other Subjects of Discussion. Daum's essays are a smidge more readable but maybe because the voice is younger, fresher. Gaitskill is a powerhouse in the literary world, and a prolific writer. Her writing goes into her experiences with more depth and - for lack of a better word - grace than Daum, but give Daum time and she could easily be a Gaitskill if she so chooses.
All in all, these are interesting essays/reviews. I may not have agreed with every one of her thoughts, but there's no essayist (yet) that I agree with 100%. Gaitskill is a curious woman, whether discussing her multiple rapes as a young woman and how she dealt with the realization later, or her strong opinions on Vladimir Nabokov or Linda Lovelace, she articulates every one of her thoughts and beliefs in a way that makes it difficult to turn away.
One night when he was lying on his back in my lap, purring, I saw something flash across the floor; it was a small sky blue marble rolling out from under the dresser and across the floor. It stopped in the middle of the floor. It was beautiful, bright, and something not visible to me had set it in motion. It seemed a magical and forgiving omen, like the presence of this loving little cat. I put it on the windowsill, next to my father's marble.I have not had the opportunity to read anything else by Mary Gaitskill which seems like a shame. But I did see the movie Secretary, based on Gaitskill's short story, Bad Behavior - and, yes, she writes about her opinions of the movie adaptation starring Maggie Gyllenhaal and James Spader.
(p137, "Lost Cat: A Memoir")
Because her essays/reviews range from 1994-2016, the majority of writing here was written prior to 2010 and therefore feel sometimes dated. I'm not sure if Gaitskill's opinions might have changed or only become stronger over time. I know my own opinions have changed since 1994 or even 2010. It would be interesting to read more contemporary essays but in this collection, the most recent writing takes up only about a quarter of the book.
I'm still not sure if I want to read any of her fiction, to be honest. I know she is somewhat known for being dark (and she admits it in one of her essays), but I didn't care much for Secretary, so that gives me pause. (The performances were great; but the subject matter itself isn't appealing to me.)
It was interesting reading this on the heels of Meghan Daum's The Unspeakable: And Other Subjects of Discussion. Daum's essays are a smidge more readable but maybe because the voice is younger, fresher. Gaitskill is a powerhouse in the literary world, and a prolific writer. Her writing goes into her experiences with more depth and - for lack of a better word - grace than Daum, but give Daum time and she could easily be a Gaitskill if she so chooses.
May 5, 2017
I had no idea Ms. Gaitskill was such a prolific essayist. I think I have read all her published novels and short stories, and consider myself a fan. This was like finding a treasure chest long-buried in the attic.
Like her or not, Ms. Gaitskill has a strong and familiar voice. I admire her frank discussion of all manner of subjects: books, music, movies, art, sex, love, treatment of others. I used to think her "shocking", because she says and writes things I don't often see, but I realize she is truthful. I don't think her words are intended to provoke, or shock, just to make the reader consider something or someone in a different light. It's refreshing, and interesting.
My favorite essay in this collection was clearly the beginning of or inspiration for her novel 'The Mare'. Although I knew the novel was based in truth, reading said truth took my breath away.
If you are interested in contemporary criticism or good essays, or just crave something new, fresh, and different-- I encourage you to read this book.
Like her or not, Ms. Gaitskill has a strong and familiar voice. I admire her frank discussion of all manner of subjects: books, music, movies, art, sex, love, treatment of others. I used to think her "shocking", because she says and writes things I don't often see, but I realize she is truthful. I don't think her words are intended to provoke, or shock, just to make the reader consider something or someone in a different light. It's refreshing, and interesting.
My favorite essay in this collection was clearly the beginning of or inspiration for her novel 'The Mare'. Although I knew the novel was based in truth, reading said truth took my breath away.
If you are interested in contemporary criticism or good essays, or just crave something new, fresh, and different-- I encourage you to read this book.
March 29, 2017
Among many, many other wonderful things (an amazing meditation on Linda Lovelace; a 50-page essay about a lost cat that rattled me so deeply I had to walk it off after finishing it), this collection contains the best and most withering take-down of Gone Girl I've ever read. Hail Mary, full of grace.
June 19, 2017
The core of this book is the long (17,000 word) thoroughly engrossing essay (originally published in Granta) called "Lost Cat," which is one of the best things Gaitskill has ever written. Unfortunately, nearly everything else in this collection is so minor in comparison to this masterly piece of narrative non-fiction, it tends to come across as filler.
Mostly previously published capsule reviews (of books and films), liner notes, introductions, etc. - there are not that many essays in fact, and nothing newly written for this collection.
I enjoyed the two pieces on Nabokov (though her 1995 essay on him in Salon, the first piece I ever read from her, is not included) and the introduction to Bleak House, but her engagement with contemporary writers is less interesting somehow. There are a few pieces that touch on politics, feminism, art, media, consent, and rape - these are mostly of interest to see how the threads of her thoughts and sentiments changed (or didn't) over the 20 year period in which she wrote them...you can also see a transition in her writing from pre to post social media ubiquity.
Mostly previously published capsule reviews (of books and films), liner notes, introductions, etc. - there are not that many essays in fact, and nothing newly written for this collection.
I enjoyed the two pieces on Nabokov (though her 1995 essay on him in Salon, the first piece I ever read from her, is not included) and the introduction to Bleak House, but her engagement with contemporary writers is less interesting somehow. There are a few pieces that touch on politics, feminism, art, media, consent, and rape - these are mostly of interest to see how the threads of her thoughts and sentiments changed (or didn't) over the 20 year period in which she wrote them...you can also see a transition in her writing from pre to post social media ubiquity.
June 14, 2017
What an amazing book. I've found this author's fiction way too dark, but decided to read this collection based on a review. Oh, I'm so glad. There's a memoir in the center of the book called "Lost Cat." It is a layered memoir about the author's involvement with two children from New York City, with her cat, found on the streets of Rome, and brought home with her the U.S. It was so beautiful, not only about loss, but about connections of all kinds...how painful they can be, and how rewarding. This doesn't explain at all how surprised and delighted and sad I felt as several stories were woven together so that I felt I were inside an emotional prism. The story about rape and the ways in which the author withholds, then reveals made me realize that there are few writers who can write so honestly about sex, desire, victims, and abuse. The essay on Bleak House (several of these pieces are book or music reviews) convinced me that I wanted to read this novel by Dickens. I never have.
I've never been a big fan of non-fiction, but this year I've begun to read more. This is probably the best one so far.
I've never been a big fan of non-fiction, but this year I've begun to read more. This is probably the best one so far.
June 25, 2017
I love Mary, her mind is incredibly brilliant. I'm so thankful I got to meet her at Bookpeople a couple of years ago. This book of her essays written from the mid-1990s to present time from various publications is both a time capsule of the eras written in and yet freshly relevant to our very different, more "advanced" times of today. Read her thoughts on what I call "the Elizabeth's": one essay on Elizabeth Edwards, whose politician husband cheated on her in the twilight years of her life, then compare Mary's thoughts in a different essay on a different Elizabeth, Elizabeth Wurtzel who in the late 90s wrote her own essay in the form of a non fiction book called Bitch.
My favorite essay is her long form piece from Granta, it's called Lost Cat. This is such a powerful piece that I read it twice, and have half a mind to go make a copy of it to continue re-reading over and over at a later date. That good. The other power piece for me was her 1994 Harper's essay titled The Trouble With Following the Rules. If anything read these 2 essays. Mary Gaitskill and Rebecca Solnit are my 2 favorite living essayists.
My favorite essay is her long form piece from Granta, it's called Lost Cat. This is such a powerful piece that I read it twice, and have half a mind to go make a copy of it to continue re-reading over and over at a later date. That good. The other power piece for me was her 1994 Harper's essay titled The Trouble With Following the Rules. If anything read these 2 essays. Mary Gaitskill and Rebecca Solnit are my 2 favorite living essayists.
May 4, 2017
I started out loving this collection of essays, then became somewhat disenchanted and read a different book about halfway-through when several of the essays struck me as just thrown into the collection to pad the length of the book. After finishing the book in between, I returned, determined to grit my teeth and finish the book, and the last half turned out to be amazing, and Lost Cat: A Memoir would have been worth the price of admission on its own. A beautiful, sharp, and analytical mind taking on some very difficult to talk about topics.
July 16, 2023
I really enjoy essay collections with reviews of things I haven’t heard of. There’s some good book and movie reviews in here of things I know I’ll never read or watch but was interested in anyway. I especially enjoyed the ones from the 80s and 90s—I haven’t thought about John Updike since I read Rabbit, Run in college.
That being said, her two longer memoir pieces were my favorites. One is about a program I’ve never heard of, where affluent people host urban children for two weeks in the summer.
Glad I read it if only for her range of subjects, not sure I’ll read anything else by her.
That being said, her two longer memoir pieces were my favorites. One is about a program I’ve never heard of, where affluent people host urban children for two weeks in the summer.
Glad I read it if only for her range of subjects, not sure I’ll read anything else by her.
February 21, 2018
The title, "Somebody with a Little Hammer" is from a Chekhov speech in the story "Gooseberries" she reveals in an essay with the same name. The quote is: "At the door of every centered, happy man somebody should stand with a little hammer, constantly tapping, to remind him that unhappy people exist, that however happy he may be, sooner or later life will show him its claws, some calamity will befall him—illness, poverty, loss—and nowbody will hear or see, just as he doesn't hear or see others now. But there is nobody with a little hammer, the happy man lives on, and the petty cares of life stir him only slightly, as wind stirs an aspen—and everything is fine."
I started reading this book in the middle with the piece, "Lost Cat, A Memoir." I didn't intend to read the whole book because she writes about books I may never read, but once I started, I read the whole book because her writing is so good. My favorites were the memoir, Icon, On Linda Lovelace, and Leave the Women Alone! On the Never Ending Political Extramarital Scandals. I love her clarity about sex and have loved her work since her first book of short stories came out, "Bad Behavior."
She writes with passion, whether about her own life and her missing cat rescued from starvation in Italy, or about the star of "Deep Throat." She holds compassion and intellect to make commentary that does not follow the pack.
I started reading this book in the middle with the piece, "Lost Cat, A Memoir." I didn't intend to read the whole book because she writes about books I may never read, but once I started, I read the whole book because her writing is so good. My favorites were the memoir, Icon, On Linda Lovelace, and Leave the Women Alone! On the Never Ending Political Extramarital Scandals. I love her clarity about sex and have loved her work since her first book of short stories came out, "Bad Behavior."
She writes with passion, whether about her own life and her missing cat rescued from starvation in Italy, or about the star of "Deep Throat." She holds compassion and intellect to make commentary that does not follow the pack.
November 18, 2017
I dunno, this just wasn't my kind of book. It wasn't particularly interesting or insightful. There was maybe one essay I liked, about an 80s song I'd never heard. There were a lot of reviews of books I wasn't familiar with. But even essays about her personal life were kind of obnoxious. I liked the one about her lost cat, but interspersing the experience she had with kids who came to stay with her was kind of cringey and just made her come off as a ridiculous rich white woman. I don't know, there were too many reviews, I thought it would be more essays, but even the essays just rubbed me the wrong way.
March 22, 2020
I disagree with Gaitskill about so many things and yet I enjoyed this book very very much, and I have been sitting with it for some weeks now considering the why of both. I am still not entirely certain about the enjoyment; pleasure so often just is, and while her writing is intelligent and thoughtful and well-considered, so is that of many other authors whom I do not enjoy. I think part of it may come from the fact that I feel like she is truly trying to see more sides than just one, that she is trying to look at things as whole as she can and share what she sees, rather than chasing just one path to its bitter end. But that also speaks to why I disagree, or rather, the particular way in which I disagree, which is that there are things she sees as part of the Human Condition which I see as cultural, time-bound, and perhaps even gendered, so when she praises a novel of Updike for its deep insight into humanity I see her confusing Updike's particular selfhood with a sort of universal humanity that I find false. She is also oddly blind to some aspects of trauma, she will write about it so thoughtfully and acutely and then suddenly swerve into strange assumptions about her ability to accurate judge whether or not someone has been traumatised by their body language and facial expressions.
Writing this, though, I see why it is I enjoyed her essays so much -- Gaitskill is not arrogant. Even when coming up against moments in her writing that I felt were narrow, or assumptions that seemed very off-base to me, I always had the sense that if our conversation were somehow to become two-directional -- that if she could hear me rather than only me hearing her -- she would truly want to know what I think. She is both very certain of herself and, seemingly, very willing to discover she is wrong, so that she comes across as a writer who is interested in knowledge rather than in correctness, and that is very, very appealing to me.
I am not certain if I will read her fiction or not, but I will gladly read more non-fiction of hers if it comes my way.
Writing this, though, I see why it is I enjoyed her essays so much -- Gaitskill is not arrogant. Even when coming up against moments in her writing that I felt were narrow, or assumptions that seemed very off-base to me, I always had the sense that if our conversation were somehow to become two-directional -- that if she could hear me rather than only me hearing her -- she would truly want to know what I think. She is both very certain of herself and, seemingly, very willing to discover she is wrong, so that she comes across as a writer who is interested in knowledge rather than in correctness, and that is very, very appealing to me.
I am not certain if I will read her fiction or not, but I will gladly read more non-fiction of hers if it comes my way.
February 15, 2021
when gaitskill applies intellectual rigor and empathy to her subjects, she does incredibly, as with her opening essay on rape/date rape/campus debates on rape and date rape. but she also has the stereotypical hippie-artist-class way of relating to the world, and her asides about latino kids she was involved with, her relationship with artists of color, etc are full of confidence that she is correct in her worldview or coy assumptions that the reader will forgive her for being clearly awful. she discusses being white in a way that reminds me of patti smith's phase of using the n-word, a presumption of ownership over race that is meant to be edgy-progressive but instead echoes with manifest destiny. this entitlement surfaces most obviously in a review from 2011 that uses "retarded" as a descriptor (though that's not its only use), but the attitude permeates about 75% of the essays. we demand a lot from cultural critics. the best of gaitskill in this book demonstrates why we're correct to do so. the worst, well, that's why this review is three stars.
March 25, 2021
Have only ever read one Gaitskill story before, remember the strange and compelling starkness of the sexuality in it, (and I saw the movie Secretary, which, after reading her essay on the film here, I have a different opinion of). Gaitskill's non-fiction writing is a pleasure to spend time with. She's at her best in her memoir pieces--one on her experiences with sexual assault, another on recollections of being in St. Petersburg, and a surprisingly heart-wrenching and complex piece about caring for and losing a cat (coupled with being a pseudo-foster parent to a city kid and her own fraught relationship to her emotionally distant father). There were a few times when I felt a clang of Gaitskill being of a different generation, one less sensitive to cultural differences and sexual politics, but on the whole I found myself appreciating her voice and the challenging nature of her reflections. (I didn't know anything about Linda Lovelace, really, and now do I have to watch Deep Throat to solidify an opinion? Can someone summarize it for me, with hand gestures?) This collection, though, is chockablock with short music, film, and book reviews, which all sort of fade together. The 4-star review is really based on how great the memoir pieces are, though they probably comprise less than half the book. Feel free to skip ahead.
July 31, 2020
Probing essays; brilliant flashes of unintuitive and challenging insights (especially about sexuality and gender differences); a refreshing, unpretentious, frank, plain-speak style of writing (something I personally strive for) that displays the writer’s uncertainties with irreprochable transparency. Her memoirs ‘Lost Cat’ and ‘The Bridge’ are high points; the book reviews/lit crits (which make the greatest page share of the book) can be a little uninteresting (especially if/when she fails to make the at times niche/esoteric subject relevant enough, etc). I’d recommend most for her passionate and honest perspective on contemporary women’s issues/feminism - including rape culture, adultery, motherhood, sexual equality, sexual freedom, among other things.
May 1, 2019
As with nearly any essay collection, some of the essays in this are better than others. But when it’s bad, it’s just kind of meh, and when it’s good, it’s very good. I especially liked “The Trouble with Following the Rules: On ‘Date Rape,’ ‘Victim Culture,’ and Personal Responsibility” and “Icon: On Linda Lovelace.” Gaitskill also managed to do the impossible with “And It Would Not Be Wonderful to Meet a Megalosaurus” - she made me want to read Bleak House.
May 17, 2018
I'm a huge fan of her fiction so was intrigued by her essays.
1) She's an amazing writer, critical thinker. You don't have to agree with her, but she's great at arguing for empathy.
2) Her book reviews make me want to be a writer. At the very least, read Chekhov's "Gooseberries".
3) Her essays are full of good vocabulary words (I'm studying for GRE so I will take it).
1) She's an amazing writer, critical thinker. You don't have to agree with her, but she's great at arguing for empathy.
2) Her book reviews make me want to be a writer. At the very least, read Chekhov's "Gooseberries".
3) Her essays are full of good vocabulary words (I'm studying for GRE so I will take it).
December 23, 2024
3.5 stars
some days language and ideas but overall entertaining collection of essays and introduced me to some things to watch / read 🙇🏻♀️🙇🏻♀️
some days language and ideas but overall entertaining collection of essays and introduced me to some things to watch / read 🙇🏻♀️🙇🏻♀️
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January 4, 2020Spicy. And I enjoy any essay highlighting why Gone Girl is bad literature
December 18, 2017
The main question I have after coming out of this thing is what interest could there possibly be in a review of a foot fetish photo collection twenty years after the article (and photo collection) was originally published?
July 11, 2022
definitely wanna read more gaitskill soon
November 12, 2017
I adored Gaitskill's first book, the short story collection Bad Behavior, which was something of a succès de scandale in the late 80s. That period was the cultural high-water mark of humorless, anti-porn, sex-negative feminism and I lived in Berkeley. The "progressive" cultural establishment was rigidly censorious of unruly libidos (power-themed bedroom games not, in those days, being the unremarkable sit-com staples they are today), so a smartly-written book featuring strippers and BDSM sex that was not a hysterical, hand-wringing exercise in Not a Love Story prudery - a book by a hip young woman, no less - was like edgy manna to a pretentious perv wandering the arid wilderness of first-wave political correctness. In the ensuing years, I intended to read Gaitskill's novels and never got to them, encountering her only occasionally in magazines and when I realized, halfway through the Maggie Gyllenhaal/James Spader rom-com with handcuffs Secretary, that it had been adapted from a considerably darker story in Bad Behavior. I was invariably impressed by these brief encounters, but I was a little unprepared for the writer-crush Somebody with a Little Hammer inspired.
That utter mastery of tone. That wicked wit. That clear-eyed perception that, yet, never fails to be humane and generous. That relentless self-honesty and patient teasing-out of tangled, contradictory motives and desires. I just wish my own writing could be half as smart, half as sexy, half as tough, half as kind. My only cavils relate more to reading a collection of occasional pieces than to Gaitskill's formidable chops. She is, without question, a smart reader and an insightful critic. Her Norman Mailer appreciation, This Doughty Nose was a delight. It pleases me when the people I admire themselves admire other people I admire, and, these days, it's not always easy to find Mailer fans. Somebody with a Little Hammer, like many literary essay anthologies, leaned a little too heavily on book reviews. Largely intended for an audience not experienced with the work in question, reviews, especially those that are scrupulous about avoiding spoilers, can be annoyingly coy. Even more so forewords and introductions, of which a few are included here. In addition, serially reading separately published pieces that are working out the same key ideas can feel redundant, however compelling the issues and astute the observations.
I will be back for more of Mary Gaitskill's delectable prose. Like Cleopatra in another context, she makes hungry where most she satisfies.
That utter mastery of tone. That wicked wit. That clear-eyed perception that, yet, never fails to be humane and generous. That relentless self-honesty and patient teasing-out of tangled, contradictory motives and desires. I just wish my own writing could be half as smart, half as sexy, half as tough, half as kind. My only cavils relate more to reading a collection of occasional pieces than to Gaitskill's formidable chops. She is, without question, a smart reader and an insightful critic. Her Norman Mailer appreciation, This Doughty Nose was a delight. It pleases me when the people I admire themselves admire other people I admire, and, these days, it's not always easy to find Mailer fans. Somebody with a Little Hammer, like many literary essay anthologies, leaned a little too heavily on book reviews. Largely intended for an audience not experienced with the work in question, reviews, especially those that are scrupulous about avoiding spoilers, can be annoyingly coy. Even more so forewords and introductions, of which a few are included here. In addition, serially reading separately published pieces that are working out the same key ideas can feel redundant, however compelling the issues and astute the observations.
I will be back for more of Mary Gaitskill's delectable prose. Like Cleopatra in another context, she makes hungry where most she satisfies.
June 18, 2017
I'm giving this essay collection four stars because I love and connect with Gaitskill's writing, and especially on the strength of her personal essays.
The one that I admire most is about a lost kitten, which is the basis of her novel The Mare. The Mare got a lot of criticism for the "white savior" aspect of a liberal white couple who support some children from the Fresh Air fund project. I think those readers might have missed out on the complexity of the issue and more so how Gaitskill relies on psychology and the mysteries of human behavior to address those complexities, and should they wish, they should read the essay, wherein she and her husband do almost exactly what her fiction couple does in The Mare.
Some of the brief reviews in the collection I only skimmed; they are full of insight and thorough analysis, but maybe not subjects I'm interested in, or are about books I want to read before I am subjected to Gaitskill's impressions.
Also, the essay where she talks about the 2008 election and declares Sarah Palin a sadist, is a gem. If Palin is a sadist, then Trump is her better in that regard.
The one that I admire most is about a lost kitten, which is the basis of her novel The Mare. The Mare got a lot of criticism for the "white savior" aspect of a liberal white couple who support some children from the Fresh Air fund project. I think those readers might have missed out on the complexity of the issue and more so how Gaitskill relies on psychology and the mysteries of human behavior to address those complexities, and should they wish, they should read the essay, wherein she and her husband do almost exactly what her fiction couple does in The Mare.
Some of the brief reviews in the collection I only skimmed; they are full of insight and thorough analysis, but maybe not subjects I'm interested in, or are about books I want to read before I am subjected to Gaitskill's impressions.
Also, the essay where she talks about the 2008 election and declares Sarah Palin a sadist, is a gem. If Palin is a sadist, then Trump is her better in that regard.
September 14, 2022
girl your MIND. i didn’t always agree with gaitskill’s viewpoints in this; there were moments where her opinion on something or other aligned so closely with mine that i felt weirdly triumphant just reading it, but there were also moments where her sense of cynical detachment felt a little… poseur-y? as if she maybe slightly over-values her ability to remain detached rather than strongly opinionated one way or another when it comes to certain social issues (but this same exact quality also read as incredibly wise and compassionate at other points, seeming to suggest that her ability to empathise with all sides of an argument is because of her willingness to seek out people’s humanity first and foremost in the things they say and do; i will concede that some of my occasional frustration at her glibness might just have been me projecting) - either way i would cut off my left foot for a fraction of her talent & wit, what a remarkably intelligent, engaging writer she is. lost cat in particular was just fucking ridiculous for how good it was and honestly i would recommend everyone read it even if they don’t read any of the other essays or reviews in this book
July 4, 2018
So, first thing, I took off a whole star because for some reason Gaitskill really likes using the r-word. Bleh. Both to describe people with intellectual disabilities and also to insult people more or less randomly. I'm not sure if it's something where she uses all kinds of slurs for Writerly Reasons (eyeroll) and the editors take out the rest, but not that one, or if she just has a thing for the word, but whatever, it really bothered me. Mostly because I want to read the pieces, not have an argument with her in my head about her use of the word. 6-10 times in one book is 6-10 times too many.
That said, I had a lovely experience arguing with the author in my head about many other things, and her writing is as fluid and insightful and challenging as ever except for that one thing. Which is, you know, a big thing. And personally quite vexing.
That said, I had a lovely experience arguing with the author in my head about many other things, and her writing is as fluid and insightful and challenging as ever except for that one thing. Which is, you know, a big thing. And personally quite vexing.
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July 20, 2025lost cat is one of the best essays of all time
update (7/20/2025): i want to write longer book notes for this collection at some point because it is just That Good. i love how clearheaded, incisive, and unsentimental gaitskill is—i think that's why she's not afraid to dirty her hands with the blood and guts of nuance, because she can trust herself to not get lost in the muddle. of course her work is much more artful than what this implies but the analogy i'm tempted to draw is to like a forensic pathologist or a surgeon lol
update (7/20/2025): i want to write longer book notes for this collection at some point because it is just That Good. i love how clearheaded, incisive, and unsentimental gaitskill is—i think that's why she's not afraid to dirty her hands with the blood and guts of nuance, because she can trust herself to not get lost in the muddle. of course her work is much more artful than what this implies but the analogy i'm tempted to draw is to like a forensic pathologist or a surgeon lol
April 19, 2025
LEÍ: “No ser una victima: el sexo, la violacion, y el problema de obedecer las normas” :
Hay ciertos grupos de feministas que piensan eliminar la ambigüedad del sexo por medio de la legislación. Yo: el sexo es una zona gris y siempre lo será, porque en el se enredan distintas ideas de lo que se debería hacer/ querer y lo que se quiere en realidad.
La legislación frente al sexo ( y las normas en general, viejas y recientes) suponen una uniformidad psicológica frente a la experiencia.
La violacion metafórica puede ser peor que la relación literal ( práctica/ violenta) : si un hombre loco te viola en la calle ( un hombre que no conocías) no tiene nada que ver contigo ni con cómo tú eres. En cambio, cuando ese sentimiento se da con una persona que conoces y que deseas, te preguntas porque te sientes así, si la culpa la tienes tú o no, donde queda la responsabilidad, y todo se complejiza.
El sufrimiento no es algo definible
“El dolor puede ser una experiencia que desafía la codificación”
La vaguedad invita a la interpretación
También leí: el ensayo sobre LOLITA
Lolita, segun Mary Gaitskill, es sobre la complejidad del amor ( horrible y todo) y la unión de opuestos: asco, amor, obsesión, ultraísmo, egoísmo, y por eso es un reflejo del amor en distintas formas. Esta ambivalencia, dualismo de la historia se ve en la portada de la que ella habla: piernas frágiles y hermosas con las rodillas juntas, que deja a la imaginación una niña hermosa con los brazos abiertos o los piernas así como en respuesta al miedo o al dolor. Invitadas a romper o a cuidar
El amor en sí mismo no es cruel ni egoísta. Pero al habitar en los humanos se torna así
Y su ensayo sobre lo que pensó de la película sobre SECRETARY: ON VICTIMS AND LOOSERS :
Lo hizo muy limpio, con un final feliz que apetece al público americano.
“ ( in the book) Debbie’s arousal is so intense, it nearly breaks her. Lee’ s arousal ( in the movie) is pleasant and improving”
Menciona que igual es un cuento muy difícil de adaptar a película, pues el drama es interno y fue hecho para ser sentido y no visto.
Hay ciertos grupos de feministas que piensan eliminar la ambigüedad del sexo por medio de la legislación. Yo: el sexo es una zona gris y siempre lo será, porque en el se enredan distintas ideas de lo que se debería hacer/ querer y lo que se quiere en realidad.
La legislación frente al sexo ( y las normas en general, viejas y recientes) suponen una uniformidad psicológica frente a la experiencia.
La violacion metafórica puede ser peor que la relación literal ( práctica/ violenta) : si un hombre loco te viola en la calle ( un hombre que no conocías) no tiene nada que ver contigo ni con cómo tú eres. En cambio, cuando ese sentimiento se da con una persona que conoces y que deseas, te preguntas porque te sientes así, si la culpa la tienes tú o no, donde queda la responsabilidad, y todo se complejiza.
El sufrimiento no es algo definible
“El dolor puede ser una experiencia que desafía la codificación”
La vaguedad invita a la interpretación
También leí: el ensayo sobre LOLITA
Lolita, segun Mary Gaitskill, es sobre la complejidad del amor ( horrible y todo) y la unión de opuestos: asco, amor, obsesión, ultraísmo, egoísmo, y por eso es un reflejo del amor en distintas formas. Esta ambivalencia, dualismo de la historia se ve en la portada de la que ella habla: piernas frágiles y hermosas con las rodillas juntas, que deja a la imaginación una niña hermosa con los brazos abiertos o los piernas así como en respuesta al miedo o al dolor. Invitadas a romper o a cuidar
El amor en sí mismo no es cruel ni egoísta. Pero al habitar en los humanos se torna así
Y su ensayo sobre lo que pensó de la película sobre SECRETARY: ON VICTIMS AND LOOSERS :
Lo hizo muy limpio, con un final feliz que apetece al público americano.
“ ( in the book) Debbie’s arousal is so intense, it nearly breaks her. Lee’ s arousal ( in the movie) is pleasant and improving”
Menciona que igual es un cuento muy difícil de adaptar a película, pues el drama es interno y fue hecho para ser sentido y no visto.
September 20, 2017
"If someone had told me when I was ten that I would grow up to be a writer, that I would be invited to read in Russia, and that a Beatle would be playing just a few blocks away, it would have made life worth living. Now that it had all happened, I was simply put out by the lack of toilet seats and paper, the giardia in the water supply, and the animals starving in the streets because people put their pets out when they couldn't afford to feed them anymore."
Occasionally, Gaitskill uses language I thought we had societally decided to abstain from, and on the whole, I would have preferred more essays and fewer reviews (but if anyone must have bad reviews, let them be like Gaitskill's. She's the sort of critical reviewer McCann suggests buying a beer for and making friends with).
Choices of language and ratio don't bury the brilliant writing, though, or the honesty you can feel Gaitskill pulling up from inside herself, whether she's talking about personal responsibility, hunting through the dark for a lost cat, or admitting that day-to-day reality can tarnish ideal situations. Her essays and experiences are searing, but never ask for pity. This is what has happened to her, this is what she knows, this is how life goes on. The fact that she is complicit in her own pain, the fact that responsibility is never shrugged off on anyone and everyone else, is brave; the fact that she never holds herself apart, or talks about other people's shortcomings without offering up her own, is more than brave, or honest: it means you can feel a real and reaching person behind her words.
"Human love is grossly flawed, and even when it isn't, people routinely misunderstand it, reject it, use it, or manipulate it. It is hard to protect a person you love from pain, because people often choose pain; I am a person who often chooses pain."
Occasionally, Gaitskill uses language I thought we had societally decided to abstain from, and on the whole, I would have preferred more essays and fewer reviews (but if anyone must have bad reviews, let them be like Gaitskill's. She's the sort of critical reviewer McCann suggests buying a beer for and making friends with).
Choices of language and ratio don't bury the brilliant writing, though, or the honesty you can feel Gaitskill pulling up from inside herself, whether she's talking about personal responsibility, hunting through the dark for a lost cat, or admitting that day-to-day reality can tarnish ideal situations. Her essays and experiences are searing, but never ask for pity. This is what has happened to her, this is what she knows, this is how life goes on. The fact that she is complicit in her own pain, the fact that responsibility is never shrugged off on anyone and everyone else, is brave; the fact that she never holds herself apart, or talks about other people's shortcomings without offering up her own, is more than brave, or honest: it means you can feel a real and reaching person behind her words.
"Human love is grossly flawed, and even when it isn't, people routinely misunderstand it, reject it, use it, or manipulate it. It is hard to protect a person you love from pain, because people often choose pain; I am a person who often chooses pain."
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