hfjarmer's Reviews (394)

This book was recommended to me by my therapist, so you know it's going to be a banger. I typically despise any sort of self-help book, but I found this one to be very helpful and it really reiterated for me a lot of the principles and practices I've learned in therapy. It's one thing to talk about something in therapy and hear it from your therapist, and another to see those conversations applies outside of the context of a therapists office. In addition to the concept of ACT, the exercises in this book also have parallels to ERP treatments I have used since seeing my therapist, and I enjoyed how the author reframed these concepts in more clear and digestible pieces. Took off a point because despite it's usefulness, it still has that undeniable self-help gimicky writing style which can just be too much for me at times. Stop trying to joke with me and be personable I just want to get the information lol. If you are thinking about reading this, however, don't let that deter you, I would not give it such a good rating if it weren't worth your time. 

I read The Unworthy in one sitting. It is a brief, tense little novel set in a commune in a dystopian, seemingly post-apocalyptical world. I have to admit this was quite a big let down for me. I was hoping for the same caliber of work as Tender Is The Flesh, but I found this work to be missing that thing that makes it so delightfully uncomfortable and eerie. The setting is very reminiscent of Handmaid's Tale meets The Road, which should be a recipe for success, but instead just felt like an attempt to say the most jarring thing without actually holding substance, in my opinion. I think ultimately the book was simply too 2-dimensional and my lack of finding anything to say about this novel speaks volumes in and of itself. 

I’m not even sure what to say about this book that it doesn’t already say for itself. It’s an incredibly insightful and eye-opening introduction to the concept of mass incarceration and how it mirrors the Jim Crow laws (and even slavery) of the early 20th century.

Alexander takes a deep dive into the so-called “War on Drugs,” revealing it as a misnomer that conceals the broader truth. She examines incarceration rates among black and brown people compared to white people, consistently showing disproportionate imprisonment and harsher sentencing for essentially the same offenses—even when white individuals commit these crimes at equal or higher rates. What I appreciated most about The New Jim Crow was the straightforward formatting which takes the reader from Jim Crow and slavery era black codes and slowly builds on these concepts to display the shocking overlap between these laws "of the past" and their modern day comparisons in the mass incarceration system. She skillfully builds on background knowledge which allows the reader to gain deeper understanding and ease into the subject especially if it is a topic that is new to you and for this reason I found it to be incredibly helpful, as the arguments she makes are very profound. I also enjoyed the ways in which this book overlap in content with some of the other social justice books I have read in the last few months including The Care Manifesto and Caste. My greatest takeaway from Alexander's work is the need for adapting caring government programs and caring communities which would allow everyone to feel safe and secure, thus massively reducing the crime rates in virtually all communities. 

Full review and discussion of book can be found on my podcast @PrideandPodcasts on Instagram and all streaming platforms :) 

This book taught me there are three key ways to become a famous author: 1)Hate everything I’ve ever written. 2) Have a tumultuous relationship either platonic, familial, or romantic. 3) Die halfway through my manuscript so it can be discovered and published posthumously which ultimately saves me the trouble.

I really enjoyed the format of Revisionaries. Each chapter focuses on a different famous author and highlights a lesson drawn from their life, circumstances, or writing habits. For example, Octavia Butler’s chapter explores her seven-year writer’s block during which she still wrote every day, as well as her daily routine of waking up early to write before heading to her day job.

Each chapter wraps up with a “Fail Like a Genius” section, where the author, Kristopher Jansma, offers exercises and advice tailored to that chapter’s theme. Some are genuinely helpful, others sort of silly, but the variety means there’s likely something for everyone.

More than the writing advice, what I loved most was reading about the lives of these writers and seeing how their routines both overlapped and diverged. It felt like a crash course in literary history. Revisionaries is equal parts inspiring, informative, and entertaining and a reminder that failure is just part of the creative process.

I have mixed feelings about Sociopath: A Memoir. Once again, a three-star rating reflects more what the book was versus what I wanted it to be.

First, the positives: I really enjoyed the writing and storytelling. I listened to this as an audiobook, and the author did a fantastic job bringing her story to life. The pacing was strong, and the narrative was engaging throughout. I was particularly gripped early on by the details of her childhood and the way she learned to manage the “pressure” she felt in her head at such a young age. I understand she grew up before therapy was widely accepted, but my god why didn’t her parents think to take her to a doctor?

That said, here’s what didn’t work for me:

I was less engaged in the adult sections of the memoir. It felt like the same types of situations repeated themselves, and that space could have been better used to explore aspects of her life beyond her relationships. I would have loved to read more about her dissertation, her work in graduate school, or even her current work as a therapist. I wanted to see how her education shaped her self-understanding more clearly. Instead, the only real insight into her growth came through sessions with her own therapist. For all her academic and professional work, we didn’t get much of a glimpse into how it transformed her beyond just embracing who she is. Secondly—and I know this might sound harsh—but the “I am a sociopath” theme felt a bit overplayed. Yes, it’s the title of the book, but I wanted a deeper dive into what that means, not repeated anecdotes about how many times she’s told people she’s a sociopath. I hesitate to say this, but some parts of the memoir felt a little too fantastical, and that made it hard for me to stay grounded in the narrative. I would’ve appreciated more scientific exploration—especially since, as the author briefly acknowledges, the concepts of sociopathy and psychopathy are widely debated amongst psychiatric professionals.

Overall, I did enjoy the book. I just wish the narrative had been a bit more balanced.

The Care Manifesto was an excellent introduction to the politics of care. The concept of care was not something I had ever considered inherently political, but the manifesto certainly set me straight. It begins by discussing why society devalues care work: "Care has long been devalued due, in large part, to its association with women, the feminine, and what have been seen as 'unproductive' caring professions." In a society structured by men, it’s no surprise that care has been so devalued and remains among the lowest-paid and least prestigious occupations, especially in Western societies.

The Care Manifesto denounces neoliberal capitalism as essentially poisonous to a caring society. In an age where corporations seem to have more rights than people, and where production and profit are prioritized above all else, we witness the "dismantling of welfare states and democratic processes and institutions" and the rise of a society built on "competitive self-enhancement." Within this model, people are more likely to care only for themselves and those “like” them. But The Care Manifesto challenges the idea that this is the only way.

Drawing significantly from Indigenous wisdom and African American communities, the manifesto proposes a new way of living—promiscuous care—in which everyone cares for everyone and everything. Based on the idea that all life has intrinsic value, it envisions a society no longer confined to caring only for the nuclear group, but rather one where everyone deserves to live with dignity and respect, where all are cared for, and where the earth is treated with reverence.

This book serves as a concise guide to the politics of care and explores why neoliberal governments are so opposed to (and have arguably poisoned the term) “welfare states,” where each citizen’s basic needs are met. It discusses the benefits of a more caring society and offers surface-level examples of how a care-state could function, from economic to social spheres. More importantly, it outlines what is likely to happen if we don’t work toward these changes.

I highly recommend this book to literally anyone and everyone. The language was a bit dense at times, so for such a short book it took me longer to read than I expected—but the journey was well worth it.

Mutual Aid was a great little guide. The book is split into two parts. Part one is a brief overview of the concept of mutual aid. It discusses the differences between mutual aid and charity and uses some notable instances of mutual aid work past and present to highlight its purpose. Part two covers how to start a mutual aid group and the troubles that may arise in your journey to establishment as well as important considerations relevant to the group dynamics and mission. It encourages collectivization of likeminded individuals and echoes the sentiment that collectively people have the power to force change in their communities. 

What I loved most about this text is that it introduced me to something I hadn't previously considered - how many traditional charity and nonprofit models put the fate of the many in the hands of the few (often white, rich) and as a result there are conditions upon which aid is given out - typically in ways that align with a given organizations moral beliefs. Mutual aid, on the other hand is founded on caring for one's community members and the belief that all members of society deserve to live a dignified life and have their needs met regardless of their circumstances or whether they meet specific requirements for aid. 

I hesitate to put a rating on this one because it really is more of a guide than anything and while I found it interesting, I am not currently trying to start a mutual aid group and so I can't really speak to the utility of part two, though I imagine it is quite helpful. I did selfishly wish part one was a big longer, as I really enjoyed broadening my understanding of the concept of mutual aid and it's multitudinous applications. If nothing else, this book really  

I was hoping this book would offer more realistic advice, but I got the sense that I was never going to get what I wanted out of it. As far as I could get through it really just feels like you're listening to your hippy friend that isn't actually plugged into the full time work force discuss the merits of decentering capitalism, but without seeming to offer any realistic advice. A few nuggets of wisdom in the bit I read, but ultimately I just wasn't feeling it.