Sean WilseyCritiques

Inspired by WPA American Guide Series

Almost all the essays were 25-50% too long for their content, which made boredom a constant companion while I read this book. The only exception was the essay on skateboarding, which was interesting from first word to last.

Ivory Coast -The way to win: Juju on the field, Laity, Paul
England - Faded Glory: Taming the Hooligans, Hornby, Nick
Brazil - Ballet with the ball: A love story, Lanchester, John
Costa Rica - Soccer Inc: Marketing Fanaticism, Yeomans, Matthew
Spain - Morality Play: Soccer as Theater, Coover, Robert
Angola - Greater Goal: Healing a war-torn land, Mankell, Henning
Argentina - Ode to Maradona: Falkland's Revenge, Jones, Thomas
Croatia - Group Therapy: A Nation is Born, Brkic, Courtney Angela

I thoroughly enjoyed this book of essays. I've always wanted to go to Marfa (one of the few places in Texas I *haven't* visited yet), so the fact that this book began and ended with tales of Marfa was a delight. Made me want to visit more than ever. Well, except for the description of black widow spiders.

Wilsey has a knack for drawing you into a specific time and place and what it felt like to be there. I think I was most surprised by how much I enjoyed the essay on skateboarding. I never would have guessed that would be one of my favorites.

Not sure what else Wilsey has written, but I would certainly pick up another of his books.

I wasn't interested in the subject matter. I got through a few chapters, and realized I didn't care about any of these people. However, it was well written, and if you like stories about over-the-top dysfunctional families, than this is the book for you.

looks like fun for GR Group: Fans of Maps maybe

Low star rating is my personal opinion. I found these essays mostly instantly forgettable - the states I am familiar with, I barely recognized. Also, too many selections were personal memoirs - exploring a particular experience at a particular time in the past, and saying nothing about the character of the state itself. Of the others, the majority were less personal memoirs... iow, the authors of those tried to speak to some ongoing characteristic of the state. And some of the tidbits were just plain wrong, for example claiming Utah's Spiral Jetty is visible from space." Sure, from LEO with a powerful telescope... "visible from space" is meaningless, even applied to something much more imposing, for example the Great Wall (look it up).

I opine that the most interesting thing was in the back, the 30 lists, of, for example, Roller Coasters per Capita, Violent Crime Rate, and Incarceration Rate... lists 18, 19, and 20 respectively... and I wonder why the second two don't align more closely than they do...."

I'm just about 1/3 through this book but I just can't bear to put it down.

But about 2/3 of the way through, I have to admit I skipped over quite a few pages. The whole thing about Amity and the Propheets just wasn't for me.

I loved this book. There are some fantastic essays in this collection---and a few bad ones---and the roll call of writers who participated in this anthology is impressive: S.E. Hinton, Sara Vowell, Tony Horowitz, George Packer, Kevin Brockmeier, Lydia Millet, William T. Vollman, Ha Jin, Rick Moody, Anthony Doerr, Dave Eggers, Jon Franzen, Jhumpa Lahiri and more than 35 others. Each author takes a different state and contributes a piece of writing about that state. Some of the writers were born in the state, some just visit or have spent time there. A great way to take a cross country trip without paying thousands of dollars.

This collection of essays is a brilliant summer read. Short essays are digestible in between jaunts into the lake or the ocean, and a handful of them are laugh-out-loud funny. A few are lame (editors: you found a native North Dakotan and you couldn't find a native Texan??), and some are outstanding (Anthony Bourdain's New Jersey kicks all the other states' butts). I feel like I took a great road trip without having to drive through that boring-and-terrifying-all-at-once stretch of Pennsylvania with no gas stations and foresty hills hiding deer that want to jump in front of your car.

I enjoyed this book at first, but then it grew dull and tiresome and I ended up skimming the last 150 pages.

This follows the autobiographical (though I am sure rather embellished) account of the son of a famous millionaire family (the Wilseys) on the West coast of America. Life must be weird when you grew up around Danielle Steele and I would guess things could only get better from then on. Our protagonist is a wreck and can't seem to get over the separation and divorce of his parents. While it's true that their relationships becomes strained with him caught in the middle and that he is not given the same great attention is new step siblings are, this is no male Cinderella here. The bottom line is that he has thousands more opportunities than most kids get and was raised in luxury. What he did instead of try to work through his issues and prove to his new step mom that he wasn't a complete wastrel is to fulfill her prophesies and flunk out of every rich school his parents sent him to acquiring all kinds of drug habits and venereal diseases in the meantime. As his options wane, the schools become successively more restrictive and like prisons but it's really his own choices and volition that have brought him these consequences and I can't say I felt too sorry for him at all. What I disliked greatly about the book is that I think his point was that you were supposed to feel a little sorry for him. He makes a huge effort with his poor me routine and makes his eventual recovery seem like this magnificent feat when the truth is many more have done greater things with less. The only slight satisfaction I received is that the stepmom, who I hated even more than the main protagonist, probably received her just desserts when the book was released and slandered her.

As with all collections with essays by various authors, the results are somewhat uneven. However, I can’t imagine anyone who lives in or has traveled extensively in the United States not being interested in how the states they have lived in or visited are portrayed. I was thrilled that Anthony Bourdain took on my home state of New Jersey (and did a good job with it), and I thought it fitting that Oregon’s entry was one of the few in the form of a “comic” strip (which prominently featured rain and umbrellas). Looking back now, the essay I remember the most fondly was Dave Eggers’s take on Illinois. Although I read this book straight through, I think the better approach would be to read one or two states a day—or just dip your toes in every so often. In addition to the essays, there are little factoids about each state that were interesting in their own right.½

This is an example of a celebrity tell-all memoir, and of a book that should have been edited and pruned to about half the size that it is. The last quarter of the book is worth reading, the rest just rambles about a rotten childhood. At the end of the book the author states that it was all about finding his father and getting to know him, but you sure couldn't tell that by reading it. My book discussion group is reading memoirs and I wanted to read a tell-all celebrity memoir. I had this one sitting around the house and knew that in its day it caused a scandal in San Francisco society. I can see why after reading it, but mostly it is about a socialite childhood, a testosterone overloaded teen age angst period that results in clashes with parents and fellow students, and then getting back on track and becoming a nice person. Should have been the end of the story instead of rambling on for 400 pages.

I read this collection of essays as a companion to the 50 states reading challenge. After I completed a book for a state, I read the essay about that state. Although it took more than two years to read the book that way, I think the pace was suited to the nature of the book. It's the sort of book you periodically dip into, rather than one you read in the span of a few days.

The book was inspired by the Federal Writers' Project of the Works Progress Administration. The editors commissioned essays on each state, instructing the writers to “Tell us a story about your state, the more personal the better, something that catches the essence of the place...The kind of story the enlisted soldier tells his boot-camp bunkmate about back home.” The authors followed these instructions. The only similarity among the essays is their length. The content highlights the diversity that still exists in the U.S.

A few of the essays were so negative that they quenched any desire I might have had to visit that state. Other essays made me want to hop in the car and head for that state to experience what the author had experienced there. My favorite essays include “Georgia” by Ha Jin, “Missouri” by Jacki Lyden, “New York” by Jonathan Franzen, and “Ohio” by Susan Orlean.

There's enough variety in the collection that there is surely something that will appeal to every reader. It would be a great gift, especially for those hard to buy for people on your gift list.

I tried to read this book four or five months ago, but I noticed that the cover of the book has a banner that says: Take Pride In Your County. Well, taking pride in America has been impossible for the last eight years, so I realized I had to wait until after the election to see if reading the book would be possible. I am glad that I read it after all. Each entry is written by a different writer with a connection, sometimes tenuous, to the state in question. The writers have been given great latitude in what they can write. Because of this, some entries are much better than others. Some amount to nothing more than a writer describing what it was like to grow up in a certain part of a state, while others have a broader historical sweep. Personal memoirs are not necessarily bad, however, and neither does historical mean good. The weakest entry is Kentucky's, which tells tells the story of an obscure historical figure. On the other hand, Joshua Ferris's entry on Florida-nothing more than the story of his growing up in the Florida Keys in the 70s and 80s, is one the best. Now that we can all take pride in our country again, reading this book is a great way to be reminded of why America is a great country.

From 1935 to 1943, the WPA, through the Federal Writers Project, produced a book for each of the (then) 48 states. Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey used this idea as the basis for this book, an essay for each of the (now) 50 states, as well as Washington D. C. No doubt, reading the original books would be fascinating (for a number of reasons), but this collection is no piker. In fact, it is a very good collection by a wide range of writers.

Here’s the thing. I’m assuming that the original project focused on the states. This collection really focuses on the writers. In fact, the best essays are the ones that reveal the author, rather than the ones that try to reveal the states. The writers are interesting people who have interesting stories to tell.

I’ll use Arizona (my home state) as an example. The author spends a lot of time describing the Tucson desert, and her neighbors, and her move to the area, and it fails to resonate. (Aside: I wonder if this happens to everyone? Is everyone hyper-critical about the essay on their own state? I think I would have felt better if they had picked someone with more history in the state. Anyway…) She is writing as a newcomer who has nothing to add to our understanding of the state. For the successful essays, the author may have deeper roots in the state, or a different story for why they are in the state, or, at the very least, a revelation about themselves as it relates to the state. Again – about the author works; about the state, not so much.

But that is a quibble. This is an interesting and varied collection. Sure there are a couple of low spots. How can 52 essays (the second introduction is really another essay) not have some valleys. But the valleys aren’t deep, and the hills are quite lofty. Throw in a nice collection of photos (chosen by each author to represent the state they wrote about) and a fascinating collection of statistics in the final appendix (everything from population by state to alcohol consumption and roller coasters per capita by state) and it is a really good book.½

Like Dave Egger's Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, only got boring...might try again.

Our marvelous country is so varied--and perusing the various essays of this book will definitely reinforce that fact. Each is wonderfully different, some even are done in graphic novel form, as talented authors with connections to each state (i.e. Augusten Burroughs for New York) share their impressions of it. I enjoyed many of these glimpses into the diverse ways of life and geography of our United States. This would be a great read for someone new to the U.S. or who enjoys travel.½

More than once while reading State by State, I'd turn to Brian and say, "Let's move to _______." Brian's response was almost always, "Ok. [pause] You know how cold it gets there, right?" While it is unlikely that I will have the opportunity to live in every state, that is the response I had hoped this book would evoke in me. For the most part, it did not let me down.

Curious, I went back to investigate: it was the New York Times review that initially inspired me to read State by State. Have you ever re-read a review after reading the book? The inaccuracies and quotes out of context can be quite startling. It is also not the first time that I've been struck with the thought that it is the reviewer's writing that often causes me to pick up a particular book rather than the author's. I did not, as the reviewer presumed, skim through the book, picking and choosing states' essays because of my history with them. I actually read cover to cover, visiting each state alphabetically. I strongly recommend this approach, because having lived in a state does not guarantee you'll enjoy that state's essay. Indeed there were three states (well, two plus D.C.) that I had to abandon because they were simply too leaden.

As I read, I tried to find a theme that separated a mediocre piece from an outstanding one. Should the author be a native of his or her state? Not necessarily. Lydia Millet, Mohammed Naseehu Ali and Cristina Henriquez had beautiful pieces about Arizona, Michigan, and Texas, respectively, despite being from elsewhere. The Delaware section was written by a Canadian - the nerve! - but it was still quite insightful. Must the writer love the state? Not at all. Rick Moody's always outstanding writing was thoroughly enjoyable all while convincing me that Connecticut's Merritt Parkway might actually be the road to hell, with layovers in Alcoholism, Divorce, and Depression. It helped - tremendously - for the topic to be personal rather than didactic (only Idaho's Anthony Doerr managed to do both), but a couple of the clunkers were quite personal. It turns out that the only common thread I could identify was ephemeral: the essayist had to "capture" his or her state. He or she had to transport you, make you feel you could see, hear, smell the things being described. That is probably true of most good writing, though I was surprised by the names that failed to accomplish this.

Brian asked me what my favorite section was. Paul Greenberg's Alaska stands out, but I would be lying if I didn't admit I favored Florida. I was deeply offended to discover that the Florida chapter's author was born and raised not in Florida, but in Danville, IL, until age 11 (at which point he did, in fact, move to the Keys). From there he proceeded to attend the University of Iowa (?) and receive an MFA (MFA!) in writing from UC-Irvine. This gentleman was going to tell the story of my Florida? I think not. But all was forgotten when he revealed that he won a writing contest sponsored by Jimmy Buffett, and as such won a tour of the local Keys with Buffett himself. His essay made me laugh, tear up, and nod knowingly, thoroughly recognizing my crazy state and all that I love about it. That, in the end, is what what I was really looking for.

Nice book covering all the participants in the 2006 World Cup in Germany.

This book made be feel a bit uncomfortable reading about personal and family matters that normally shouldn't be made public. But I enjoyed it anyway. The writing is good and carries the reader's interest. The story ends well with the teenager who was a royal screw-up finally becoming enough of a mature adult to write this book. Thank goodness he survived his childhood. The story makes me thankful that I wasn't born rich.

Read in November, 2007

This is a great book to keep around and read and savor chapter by chapter. A lot of thoughtful, insightful, entertaining and frequently funny stories that really make you feel the state you are in. Comes with a DVD by the various writers. Excellent project, especially in a election year...a little like having your own little piece of NPR on the nightstand.

After hearing an interview on NPR's Only a Game with Matt Weiland, co-editor of The Thinking Fan's Guide to the World Cup, I had to pick it up. It is a collection of facts on the World Cup and 32 countries appearing in 2006, but more importantly it offers 32 essays written by a variety of writers (including Nick Hornby), each essay dealing with some aspect of one of the 32 countries. The interview was full of joy and enthusiasm, and the book reflects the same. Just hearing how Roddy Doyle almost was one of the featured authors - and how he eventually turned down participating brought a smile and laugh. In many ways it can be seen as a book about obsessive passion - as the World Cup illustrates every four years. The essays, though, are far ranging - from personal reflections to lessons in history and politics of countries which look to sport as a symbol for a different path. An excellent book for soccer fan and soccer bystander alike.½

I've had numerous people recommend this book. Sean Wilsey is the son of a San Francisco socialite, and (by my calculations) about 35 years old. The book gets off to a running start, detailing the excesses and idiosyncracies of his highly colorful parents. By the half-way point, however, the book has lost its focus. What's the subject? Sean's life? His mother? Boarding schools of the 1980s? Ultimately there's enough good material here to make it a worthwhile read, but you'll have to wade your way through all the surplus writing.

A delicious book but a hard read.