Now collected for the first time in one volume, the brilliant and provocative essays that established National Book Award finalist Sarah Smarsh as one of the most important commentators on socioeconomic class in America—featuring a previously unpublished essay and a new introduction.In Bone of the Bone, Sarah Smarsh brings her graceful storytelling and incisive critique to the challenges that define our times—class division, political fissures, gender inequality, environmental crisis, media bias, the rural-urban gulf. Smarsh, a journalist who grew up on a wheat farm in Kansas and was the first in her family to graduate from college, has long focused on cultural dissonance that many in her industry neglected until recently. Now, this thought-provoking collection of more than thirty of her highly relevant, previously published essays from the past decade—ranging from personal narratives to news commentary—demonstrates a life and a career steeped in the issues that affect our collective future. Compiling Smarsh’s reportage and more poetic reflections, Bone of the Bone is a singular work covering one of the most tumultuous decades in civic life. Timely, filled with perspective-shifting observations, and a pleasure to read, Sarah Smarsh’s essays—on topics as varied as the socioeconomic significance of dentistry, laws criminalizing poverty, fallacies of the “red vs. blue” political framework, working as a Hooters Girl, and much more—are an important addition to any discussion on contemporary America.
Sarah Smarsh is a journalist who has reported for The New York Times, Harper’s, the Guardian, and many other publications. Her first book, Heartland: A Memoir of Working Hard and Being Broke in the Richest Country on Earth, was a finalist for the National Book Award. Her second book, She Come by It Natural: Dolly Parton and the Women Who Lived Her Songs, was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award. Smarsh is a frequent political commentator and speaker on socioeconomic class.
Ever since her book, Heartland: A Memoir of Working Hard and Being Broke in the Richest Country on Earth, (link is to my review) was published in 2018, Sarah Smarsh has emerged as the go to person for commentary on socioeconomic class in America. Bone of the Bone is a collection of articles published between 2013 and 2022 with subjects varying from accounts of her own life and family to observations and commentary about social mores that lead to widely accepted negative stereotypes. The book also contains one previously unpublished essay about her mother and a new Introduction.
One of her essays suggests that a way poverty class can be identified in the United States is bad looking teeth since it's a sign the person hasn't had access to adequate food and dental services. She goes on to suggest that it's socially acceptable to ridicule markers of poverty as is indicated by the popularity of the website People of Walmart. Unlike racism it is politically correct to make fun of poverty. She illustrates the fuzzy boundary that defines poverty class by telling how her brother who has a college degree regularly sells his blood plasma in order to financially get by. It is pointed out that the blood plasma is used to make high cost pharmaceuticals that he'll never be able to afford.
Some of the essays address Kansas politics from past years, and since that’s where I live I could appreciate being reminded of recent history to help put the present into perspective. I find Sarah Smarsh to be a good writer, and I appreciate her insights into political and social life in this part of the country. I grew up on a farm probably less that thirty miles from Sarah’s rural childhood home. I’m familiar with the variety of social and economic situations that can be found in such communities, and I’m proud that an excellent journalist/essayist has emerged to tell our story.
Her political bias seems to lie with progressive politics and she strives to remind readers that there are plenty of progressive thinkers living in parts of the country written off as Trump country. Those are encouraging words since it describes a person like myself living near the border of the red states of Kansas and Missouri. So thanks for reminding the country that we exist, but that’s small comfort in face of the results of the latest national election.
This book was published before the 2024 national election. I couldn't help but wonder what sort of comments she has on this side of that event. The only thing I found in my short search was this on The Middle with Jeremy Hobson radio show.
Through a plucky and bright voice, Smarsh humanizes the working poor and creates space to heal that which is increasingly dividing the American people, both ideologically and socioeconomically. In this tender, raw, and perceptive collection, Sarah Smarsh's essays of the working class are really their stories. These stories serve as an antidote to the all-too-common phenomenon in nonfiction writing on this misunderstood community: a lack of context, of a mind to understand, of love. Rather, Bone of the Bone is all heart.
The final essay, “Unwanted Gifts,” ripped my heart out.
Bone of the Bone is a collection of essays and articles written by Sarah Smarsh over the years, reflecting her perspective growing up in rural poverty in Kansas. Also a white woman who is close in age and grew up in Kansas there are things Smarsh speaks to that I very much relate to and that resonate deeply with me, and others such as being poor and growing up in a rural community that I cannot. I appreciate her effort to educate people not of her background that not everyone of her background can be neatly categorized into a well-established stereotype. And drawing attention to the fact that because most people don’t bother to learn about the roots, ideals and aspirations of these people, overlooking the stereotype seems a waste of energy. While I can’t speak to the disadvantages of being poor or from the country, I have without a doubt, been subject to the dismissive statement of being from flyover country, and assumed to be a conservative Republican because of where I live and the color of my skin. Smarsh’s emphasis on the lack of understanding for the audience she writes about should not be dismissed, but it also was a clear reminder to me when reading this collection of the danger of any stereotype and how undermining it can be to someone assigned to it. The collection proceeds in chronological order of when articles or essays were published with various media outlets. This provides continuity for the reader in general news events, i.e. political elections, the COVID pandemic, etc. but does mean that some of the same stories and points get reiterated multiple times and start feeling repetitive. As a result, some of my favorite essays are ones that originate from the same place but look at things in a different way. The most poignant part of the book for me was without a doubt when Smarsh ponders the position of being somewhere or someone no one else has been and how lonely it could be, while realizing that being there came from being in a spot where you never likely fit in either and experienced a different type of loneliness. Because of the nature of this book, it can feel like the subject matter is addressed ad nauseam. But it also serves as a reminder that it needs to be and more people need to see it for any positive change to take place. A complimentary copy of this book was provided by the publisher. All thoughts and opinions are my own.
Sarah Smarsh herself narrates this collection of essays she has written over the last decade or so, and as an uprooted Kansan (Wilson to Great Bend to Salina to Wichita to Kansas City to Southern California (2001), hearing her Kansas accent was like going home every time I listened. My upbringing was not identical to Smarsh’s, but her story and the stories of the people she writes about are very familiar to me. And unfamiliar, I think, so most east and west coast Americans. Smarsh has written poignantly, honestly, sometimes brutally, often presciently about rural and small town American life (political life, socio-economic life, family life, womens’ lives), economic struggles and resilience, rural feminism, populism and socialism, and environmentalism. I dare you to listen to her read her last essay, “Unwanted Gifts” and not at least shed a few tears. Smarsh’s Heartland: A Memoir of Working Hard and Being Broke in the Richest Country on Earth was an amazing memoir (high praise from me who generally dislikes memoirs and finds them self indulgent and trauma porn-ish); and I can’t not mention the delightful Dolly Parton coat of colors She Come By It Natural: Dolly Parton and the Women Who Lived Her Songs as another book I loved. I was unaware Smarsh had published this collection until I heard her on Jon Stewart’s podcast - which was a treat itself.
“I summon that audacity on behalf of the poor and working class not because they are a sentimentalized ideal from my past - some salt of the Earth I reflect on from a building with a doorman — but because they are the complicated core of my present. They are my neighbors in rural Kansas. They are my blood. They are the foundation of who I am snd the reason my voice exists"
Bone on Bone collects 10 years of Smarsh's writings on the poor and working class. She explores the frustration she experienced when her state and others like it are grouped and commented on like they are a homogeneous unit. She speaks to the challenges of people assuming your background and residence tell your defining story. She discussed what happens when those in power are so disconnected from the realities of those they represent.
In such a fractured time, this was an excellent read on both the divisions and connections within our country.
UGH ♥️ Sarah Smarsh articulates the central thread and conflict in my life, which is especially poignant for me as a new mother and someone who recently moved back to rural Iowa.
Two excellent quotes:
“What would I want for my daughter? The idea of you delivered her; she became the girl she loved. Spirit-child midwife, thank you. If one day you are manifest in this heavy, confusing form and face a tough decision, you might ask two questions: What would I do for the most precious thing on earth? What would I do for myself? You will know your own integrity when the answers are the same.”
“Having straddled a class divide and been wrongly stereotyped on both sides of it, throughout my life I’ve found peace in the places and things that don’t evaluate my status: nature, animals, art, books.”
The quality of the writing was excellent, as expected, but many of the essays challenged me to consider my assumptions, and I thought about them long after closing the book. I'm sure I read a few of these in their original form, but it was quite enjoyable to have them all gathered in one place, and I really appreciated the added footnotes giving updates.
Book Review: Bone of the Bone: Essays on America by a Daughter of the Working Class by Sarah Smarsh
In her compelling collection Bone of the Bone: Essays on America, Sarah Smarsh opens a window into the complex tapestry of socioeconomic class in America, bridging personal narrative with insightful commentary on broader societal issues. Building on the themes she explored in her acclaimed earlier work, Heartland, Smarsh utilizes her voice to challenge prevailing stereotypes and to illuminate the lived realities of those navigating the cycles of poverty.
Smarsh’s essays, written between 2013 and 2022, delve into the often-overlooked facets of class struggle in America. Her ability to weave personal anecdotes with sociopolitical critiques propels the reader into an intimate understanding of the systemic barriers faced by working-class individuals. One particularly striking essay examines the stigma surrounding poor dental health as a marker of poverty, a poignant reminder of how society often mocks those who struggle financially. This exploration not only confronts the shame associated with poverty but also raises important questions about societal norms and the collective responsibility we hold in addressing these stereotypes.
Throughout the book, Smarsh shares harrowing yet enlightening experiences, such as her brother’s reliance on selling blood plasma to meet basic needs. This intimate glimpse into the desperation faced by many in the working class serves as a microcosm of broader economic struggles, illustrating how the commodification of bodily autonomy becomes a lifeline for those trapped in poverty. These personal stories resonate deeply, urging readers to recognize the humanity behind social statistics and to empathize with the complexities of financial hardship.
In addition to personal narrative, Smarsh offers astute observations on Kansas politics, grounding her essays in the historical context that informs current events. Her progressive stance emerges clearly in her advocacy for the recognition of progressive voices within traditionally conservative spaces. This political lens not only enriches her essays but also fosters a sense of urgency as she navigates the sociopolitical landscape leading up to the 2024 national election. The insights she provides challenge readers to consider the implications of their own political beliefs and the critical importance of elevating marginalized voices in the ongoing discourse surrounding socioeconomic inequality.
What sets Bone of the Bone apart is not only its poignant storytelling but also its ability to provoke thought and reflection. Smarsh resists the simplification of complex issues, instead embracing the multifaceted nature of poverty and class. She compels readers to confront uncomfortable truths about societal attitudes toward the working class, making a powerful case for empathy and understanding in the face of stark inequities.
In conclusion, Bone of the Bone is a thought-provoking exploration of class in America, masterfully blending personal narrative with critical social commentary. Sarah Smarsh’s unapologetic voice and insightful observations make this book a vital contribution to contemporary discussions about poverty, identity, and the political landscape. As we approach the upcoming national election, Smarsh’s reflections challenge us to reckon with the realities of our society and to strive for a more inclusive and equitable future. This collection is essential reading for anyone seeking to understand the intricacies of class in America and the urgent need for change.
Everyone I know wants to love the book they read. Everyone I know reads classic literature because they've been disenchanted by the mainstream New York presses' marketing of middlebrow literature as high-cultural product. And everyone I know eventually returns to the New Release table to give one of these New York press hardcovers another try. Everyone I know is disappointed.
Though littered with a few trenchant pieces, Bone of the Bone is mostly an essay dump of clean copy saying nothing. It exists because of Sarah Smarsh's formerly successful memoir Heartland, a Kansas girl's fish-out-of-water tale in big old New York City. The book is also a soft bid at a run for office.
Smarsh writes in here of her inquiry into running for Senate, only she decided against it, we're told. Just like we were told by J.D. Vance in his Hillbilly Elegy that he would never vote for the incoming president. Last I checked, he's the incoming VP.
Books like these are dangerous. They exist to make professional-managerial-class readers feel nice, or worse, radical. It's a classic mistake of certain writer-readers to think of prose as politics.
And category confusion aside, Bone of the Bones' prose is atrocious. In fact, it's the biggest offense. Plain. Faux-folk. Bad.
Thanks to NetGalley and Scribner, I was lucky enough to receive an advanced readers ebook copy of Sara Smarsh's newest book, "Bone of the Bone Essays on America by a Daughter of the Working Class." This book is a collection of essays written by Smarsh over an almost ten year time span from 2013-2024. Smarsh is known for writing most often about rural, working-poor people, and the issues facing rural America. A people and a place whose voice is often overlooked, unheard, or disregarded in media and political circles. Smarsh gives a voice to the people of what is often referred to as "flyover country." In this essay collection, topics range from the back breaking work of a small family farm, to education, women's healthcare, the postal service and more. Smarsh weaves together her personal experience and background with research to help put a human face to the issues she writes about as well as illustrating what is important to folks from rural America, and how the policies created by those often out-of-touch politicians in Washington D.C. effect the lives of every day people in the heartland. Smarsh doesn't have to pretend to know about rural America or what it is like to be part of the working-poor class, as that is her lived experience, and the experience of many of her family members. In writing about her lived experiences, Smarsh, is one of best voices to represent rural America in places were it is often misunderstood or stereotyped.
Bone of the Bone gathers selected Sarah Smarsh essays and journalism from 2013 to 2024. In these pieces, native Kansan Smarsh blends personal history and cultural analysis as she examines issues of rural life, class, place, poverty, and politics.
I am also a native Kansan and was lucky enough to hear Sarah Smarsh speak at a book event earlier this year, so I was really excited to dig into Bone of the Bone. Like most books of collected journalism, it gets a little repetitive as Smarsh re-introduces herself and her background in one piece after another. But overall, I really enjoyed the collection and its temporal trajectory across a fraught decade in our country. More specifically, the book gave me a deeper appreciation of Smarsh's unique insight into the daily realities, attitudes, and politics of poor and rural people. I wish every member of the media could read and internalize what Smarsh knows from experience about this large group of Americans. Then maybe they'd start representing non-coastal Americans with a little more dignity and nuance.
4.5 ⭐️ “Are you still lecturing strangers on social media? Are you still shouting at a family member that they’re wrong? How is that working out? If you want to stop fascism, the efficient mission is not to attack the opposing side. It is, rather, to be the opposite of Donald Trump: a defiantly open heart who protects and bolsters valid information systems required for people to truly decide for themselves about all that he and his movement represent. If you think such information is a given in the world we are living in, you are mistaken.”
I expected this to be dense and I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly and easily it reads. Sarah masterfully weaves personal experience and thoughtful research to develop her essays, touching on a wide variety of aspects of American life and politics, particularly from a rural, working class viewpoint. I loved reading about my own state and our history, which is much more complex and progressive than many outsiders would assume. I’m also thankful for how this challenged my own biases against the working class in a really powerful way.
As a woman who grew up working class in Kansas, I was really excited to read this but ended up disappointed. Many of the essays were old and felt dated. Others were commentary on other writing without offering much personal insight. I would have given the book only two stars if I hadn’t made it to the end and read the last essay. If you enjoy personal essays, just read the last one.
Audio (Libby). As someone who calls Kansas home, I connected with this book like a magnet. Sarah Smarsh writes effectively and intelligently--the content never felt academic or over my head. There are strong political tones throughout, and a lot of compassion for the working class. I have ordered a copy of this book from my favorite independently owned bookstore because I want it on my bookshelf.
I enjoyed and struggled with this book. The conclusion I am coming to is that I would rather have read these essays as separate entities & read an autobiography (employing sequential order) of the author.
A reframing for me of many of the things I knew my whole life, but was not able to express. I found it fascinating to be able to look again at the past decade through my own poor upbringing as told through her own experiences as a rural Midwesterner.
Very good. Great commentary on class and rural America, from someone actually from rural America. I also really enjoyed her discussion on the nuances of political discussions and voting patterns across Kansas. Excited for her book coming out next year.
As a formerly rural and broke Iowan, I want to thank the author for connecting me to the idea that ‘rurality and poverty are formative yet often invisible aspects of identity’.
Essays about being poor, mainly rural, country, farm poor. Smarsh grew up in Kansas and writes from first hand experience the trials of poor farm life. Some of the later essays delve into the political realm; red state/blue state conflicts and misconceptions, the rise of Trump as a presidential candidate, the candidacy of Hillary Clinton. Being just a couple of weeks from the 2024 election, those essays took on a more charged urgency.
Narrated by the author, this collection of essays represents her published work from 2013 to 2024. Trained as a journalist, she turns a critical eye on how her upbringing (poor and white on a Kansas farm) has been co-opted and twisted to suit the ends of both major political parties. A running theme throughout the essays is the complete denial of economic class as a major factor in who gets what in America. One of the most interesting essays details the interest and process of the Democratic Party in having Smarsh run for a Senate seat representing Kansas. I'll read anything by Smarsh as her roots are close to mine. Her family farm was one county east of my mother's family which also owned a farm for six generations until 2021.
oh yesssss mama. it's books like this where my political stances are really exemplified. ms sarah (kansas rep woo!) does an excellent job at articulating her experiences and opinions of this crazy american land. what a doozy. the "i am not a democrat, i vote democrat" thing really comes through and i just think it takes some balls to say that today esp in such liberal circles (which you do majority agree with!)
I've admired Smarsh for a while now and think she definitely offers a unique perspective on current society. This is a collection of her articles from the past 15 years or so and there is a fair amount of overlap and redundancy on theme but you could probably skip around, too, to get a sense of her writing.
It felt weird to read this right after Trump was elected to a second, non-consecutive term, and not have Smarsh's thoughts on that. I'm sure we'll get smart writing in the future.
I didn't enjoy this book very much. The essays are somewhat entertaining, but IMO they don't work well as a book. There's nothing to fit them together or segue between topics. The author makes compelling points and it's written pretty well, but just not a favorite of mine. As a Midwesterner, I appreciate the author's advocacy and the compelling points she makes about how we all make assumptions about certain things we see, but this book was kind of a downer.
This reader normally does not read nonfiction-but these essays told an awesome, heartbreaking and concise storyline. The writing flowed easily and I could not put the book down. Interesting read during this political season-the sadness of poverty.
I DNF'ed this at 35%, which is rare for me- I think I've failed to finish less than 5 books in the last 3 years. But this book was so disappointing- in a strange way, because the writing itself is strong, and the writer has what should be an interesting vantage point given her rural Kentucky youth and her now rarefied surroundings.
But some pieces here still manage to be a waste of time. The author doesn't seem to have gained any special perspective in her writing from her background. I enjoyed reading about her specific memories of her life, with details like the farmhouse in Kansas and barn cats lapping blood off the cow butchering floor (I shuddered, but I'll never forget it!) I enjoyed chapters like the one on memoirs and how the author's class affects their perceived credibility. But in that piece the author didn't really mention her own life, though you can tell she has used her own experiences here to yield some interesting insights- for example, I noticed the many doubters of Jeanette Winterson's memoir, but failed to analyze the reasons until now.
It's the pieces that attempt to use the intellectual and moral authority derived from her experiences, to support her opinions on issues surrounding poverty, that don't work for me. Our opinions are even largely the same, but the supporting structure to link those two just isn't included. Or maybe the foreword for this book just leaned too hard into that unifying theme, in order to make sense of years’ worth of work, when originally the pieces weren't trying to do that in the first place. I'm not sure.
Normally I can be TOO credulous when it comes to believing in people's lived experiences and the value that adds to their thoughts on a subject- I try to listen more than talk- but I wasn't reading anything here that wasn't vapid, general, and untied to reality by specific information.
It's as glib as any other glib forgettable New Yorker think piece, which is disappointing because I was fully wanting to enjoy a book by another woman from a working class family. My grandparents were born on Georgia farms with no running water, and even though my family found some middle class success by the time I was a child, we then went through my parent's drug addiction and lived that free lunch life til I was out of high school. Maybe it's because our backgrounds are relatively similar that I was able to recognize the hollowness.
I did note when she observes that we often receive the most critical response from people with similar backgrounds to ourselves. At the risk of sounding overly defensive, I think my objections here are genuinely about structure and focus rather than content or political stances.
There's a lot of self aggrandizing, and plumbing the depths of mundane life events for too much wider meaning. There's also some boring philosophizing about journalism from a person who was way too early in her career to be making pronouncements from the mountaintop in this fashion.
I finally had to stop at the chapter that included the line “We didn't have to get an Ivy League education to learn basic human decency” - ugh! Please! Given how we grew up, I KNOW she and I have both heard such a number of vile things come out of poor white people's mouths that I cannot imagine her writing this with a straight face. AND she and I both know we would be less thoughtful and altruistic without our educations. Do you have to have an education to be kind, obviously no. Would it HELP lessen the odds of hearing people say things like “let's just nuke the entire middle east and everyone in it” or “black women have kids for the welfare checks”? Just as obviously yes.
What I did gain from reading a portion of this book was realizing, after pondering her arguments that we are too hard on the working class for their racism and victim mentality and too lenient on elites for their classism, is that I stand for correcting the latter without the slightest reduction in correcting the former as well. She and I both know that a majority of our fellow working class whites, including our own friends and loved ones, have serious issues with allowing their anxiety to become hate. Acting like they don't generally feel that way is counterproductive.
She is correct that the related conversation on classism isn't happening. I just don't think the path forward will ever be LESS critique. Similar to her argument that it's unfair and undemocratic to think of poor voters as dangerous idiots, I think it's undemocratic to argue that the flow of argument about the fervent white working class support of Trump must be tamped down so the conversation about elites and their classism can flow more freely. We can have both. Just like I hate the argument that liberals ought to talk less about the issues that face minority groups, because it will crowd out conservative arguments and cause resentment to fester. Instead we have to press for a public forum where conservative ideas can also be freely expressed, and then either supported or critiqued on their merits.
I don't know, undoubtedly the author's book caught me at a bad time as I was getting sick of some of these apologetics that have been increasing since November 2024. But I genuinely don't think it's worth reading.