Holy downer book, Batman.

Days of Destruction, Days of Revolt
by Chris Hedges and Joe Sacco

If you're looking to become suicidally depressed, have I got the book for you.

A few weeks ago I was actually browsing my library's "Serendipity Collection"--a shelf of books that are new, bestselling, or otherwise popular, and for which there are usually long waiting lists, but in that small collection they are available on a first come, first serve basis. I place a lot of holds, and normally have a pile of books to pick up and check out, but nothing great had been coming in for me, so I thought I'd look around. So I ended up checking out Chris Hedges's and Joe Sacco's investigative work Days of Destruction, Days of Revolt.

According to Hedges's intro, the pair (Hedges is a journalist; Sacco is a graphic novelist/journalist) "set out two years ago to take a look at the sacrifice zones, those areas in the country that have been offered up for exploitation in the name of profit, progress, and technological advancement. We wanted to show in words and drawings what life looks like when the marketplace rules without constraints, where human beings and the natural world are used and then discarded to maximize profit."

So yeah. You're starting to see where the suicidal depression comes in, right?

The book is comprised of four chapters on "destruction": in journalism and graphic novelettes the two tell the stories of people they found on the Native American reservation at Pine Ridge South Dakota (poverty, alcoholism, drug dealing); Camden, N.J. (a former industrial/dock town where immigrants used to find the American dream and now poverty and lawlessness rule, along with racial tensions and violence); a coal-mining region of West Virginia (where mountaintops are being blown off, there are very few coal jobs to work anymore, and everyone has diabetes or other health conditions from breathing in coal dust); and Immokalee, Florida, where illegal immigrants work in modern-day slavery. A fifth and final chapter titled "Days of Revolt" centers on the Occupy protests in New York City.

It's so sad, but I couldn't stop reading it. On the other hand, I don't know if I can recommend it. Really. I know the authors meant the last chapter in particular to be inspiring, but I just can't help feeling that the Occupy protests were not enough to offset the relentless misery in the first four chapters. What I did find inspiring, actually, was one of the graphic novelettes in the Camden, N.J., chapter, featuring a woman named Lolly Davis, who not only worked and took care of her own children, but also raised other people's children, and in one memorable story, during race riots in the city, warned her white neighbors across the way to "put something red in their window" (as a rioter had told Davis to do) so rioters would leave them alone.

I thought the format was done well too--I'll admit I skipped ahead and read most of the graphic novel bits before I read the rest of the text. But that was to be expected--I've never been much of a Chris Hedges fan. I find him a bit histrionic in all his books (I wasn't overfond of his title War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning, either). Here's what he has to say towards the end of his narrative:

"The game, however, is up. The clock is ticking toward internal and external collapse. Even our corporate overlords no longer believe the words they utter. They rely instead on the security and surveillance state for control. The rumble of dissent that rises from the Occupy movements terrifies them. It creates a new narrative. It exposes their exploitation and cruelty. And it shatters the absurdity of their belief system." (p. xii.)

Okay, sure. I wish the game really were up, but I suspect it is not, and won't be for a long time, even with continuing Occupy protests. But that's just me. Do read the book sometime, but do me a favor and make sure you're not depressed when you start (although whether you should blow a happy mood with it either, I just don't know).

Comments

[John]

What a compelling review! I am not being sarcastic. You make me think of the cleaning lady (?) in John Irving's World According to Garp. A publisher had her read books being considered for publication. When she read Garp's book, she cried, so horrible! so true! It was a best seller. I think I have to read this book now.

[Bradley]

I started this one a few months ago and was relieved when it came due before I finished it. Too depressing. But I do have some residual guilt. As if not finishing it is the same as sticking my head in the sand. If anyone plans to read this one, make sure you have some light fiction on hand too.

[Citizen Reader]

Bradley,
I couldn't have said it better myself. (I didn't, as a matter of fact.) Somewhere in the middle of the first chapter I too was going to stop, but for some reason just kept going. Seeing how much hope Hedges pinned on the Occupy movement in the last chapter actually depressed me more than anything.

Off to look for some light fiction.

[Citizen Reader]

John,
Ah, "compelling," the word we all use even though we know we shouldn't... :) I always choose to take that as a compliment, even though, yes, when aimed at me it usually does involve some sarcasm.

Let me know what you think of this one if you read it.

[lesbrarian]

I'm reading this now, based on your review. It's right up my alley. Fiction or nonfiction, I enjoy reading bleak things. (I actually just finished writing an article about why some of us weirdos ENJOY horrible awful stories.)

The West Virginia section is the worst. The cycle of poverty can, at least in theory, be broken. Human despair can be overcome. Once you take the tops off the mountains, there's no going back. Way to rape the earth, assholes.

By the way, I was appalled when Hedges explained about the Museum of the American Indian not mentioning the Trail of Tears. I snooped around online and found that lots of people are critical of that museum.

[lesbrarian]

My summary of the last chapter: "The sound and the fury, signifying nothing."

I love that this book uncovers some of the most shameful conditions in modern America, but I hate their rhetoric. Their down-with-the-man anger is conveyed with the same hyperbole that appealed to me when I was fourteen.

I am an adult now, and my revolutionary feelings are still the same. Actually, no: I've done more, seen more, and studied more, so I'm more of a Bolshevik/class warrior/eco-terrorist than I was in high school.

But I am out of patience for the shrill screed of Occupy Wall Street and other neophyte protesters. I want my revolution, but I want it with maturity.

This final chapter is irritating. So much squawking.

[Citizen Reader]

Well, Lesbrarian, if you enjoy bleak, you certainly found the right book.
Yeah, Hedges. As you can tell from the title of one of Hedges's earlier books--"War Is a Force that Gives Us Meaning"--he is no stranger to the high-flown rhetoric. I could have used a bit more pragmatism, a la the John Bowe school of journalism: (I'm paraphrasing here) "people think the system is broken. The scarier truth is that the system is working exactly the way it was set up to work." (From "Nobodies," about modern-day slavery, with much to say about Immokalee.)
I'm glad you agree about the last chapter. Oddly, I think it almost would have been a stronger book without it. I didn't find it shrill--just over-optimistic, which seemed strange in the face of all the misery that had come before.

I wonder if book groups anywhere are discussing this one. Might be a good one for it, if none of your members mind a bit of depression.