The thoughts of the author, near the end of the book:
“And so we have to think about what level of mercilessness we feel comfortable with. I, personally, no longer take part in the ecstatic public condemnation of people unless they've committed a transgression that has an actual victim, and even then not as much as I probably should. I miss the fun a little.”
Ronson concludes that it's the norm to be merciless, assumes that we can accurately judge who needs to be publicly shamed, and that it's okay if lives are ruined because someone “commits a transgression that has an actual victim”. “Ecstatic public condemnation”??? Aren't we trying to move past that as a society?
Read this poorly organized, rambly, presumptuous book if you are interested in the often prurient details of shaming victims. Recommend it to people you don't like who seem to have too much time on their hands.
I approached this book with reservations because 1) of echoes of A Million Little Pieces, 2) I've come to expect authors to be distractingly self-indulgent in this type of writing. But I was engrossed. And it left me with a strong desire to become a hiker.
I loved every page of this wonderful, poignant, heartwarming, amusing book. It should be required reading for all 49-year-olds.
I could not help but wonder if we (including me) would have taken this book so seriously had the love affair involved a woman. It's not the responsibility of this book to take that on, but that thought was never far from my mind while reading.
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