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Historias desde la cadena de montaje
Desde Hunter S. Thompson no había aparecido un escritor americano capaz de generar la explosión rebosante de verdad y cruda realidad a la que Ben Hamper da rienda suelta en este recorrido a través de la panza de la gran bestia industrial de los Estados Unidos.
Mediante una prosa pura y sin concesiones de ningún tipo, Hamper, también conocido como “Rivethead”, un ex remachador de la cadena de montaje de la fábrica de camionetas y autobuses de General Motors, y cuyos artículos para Esquire, Harper’s y Mother Jones obtuvieron un reconocimiento literario excepcional, nos conduce a lo largo de su delirante carrera como obrero automotriz trastornado: de ofrecerse para trabajar turnos dobles a beber y atiborrarse de todo tipo de drogas, pasando por el plan de control de calidad de General Motors (basado en un Gato de Calidad gigante que se paseaba por toda la cadena) hasta los personajes a lo gonzo que fueron compañeros de Hamper. Estamos ante una historia extraordinaria, hilarante y trágica al mismo tiempo, de unos seres humanos atrapados en un inframundo de ruido asfixiante, aburrimiento y disparate.
Mediante una prosa pura y sin concesiones de ningún tipo, Hamper, también conocido como “Rivethead”, un ex remachador de la cadena de montaje de la fábrica de camionetas y autobuses de General Motors, y cuyos artículos para Esquire, Harper’s y Mother Jones obtuvieron un reconocimiento literario excepcional, nos conduce a lo largo de su delirante carrera como obrero automotriz trastornado: de ofrecerse para trabajar turnos dobles a beber y atiborrarse de todo tipo de drogas, pasando por el plan de control de calidad de General Motors (basado en un Gato de Calidad gigante que se paseaba por toda la cadena) hasta los personajes a lo gonzo que fueron compañeros de Hamper. Estamos ante una historia extraordinaria, hilarante y trágica al mismo tiempo, de unos seres humanos atrapados en un inframundo de ruido asfixiante, aburrimiento y disparate.
301 pages, Paperback
First published July 1, 1991
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February 17, 2021
-Nadie es un buen Sherlock Holmes de sí mismo, pero puede permitir que otros lo analicen si ofrece la información suficiente.-
Género. Biografía (con toques de ensayo).
Lo que nos cuenta. El libro Historias desde la cadena de montaje (publicación original: Tales from the Assembly Line, 1998), con prólogo de Michael Moore, ofrece los recuerdos del escritor desde su juventud, mezclados con diferentes reflexiones sobre la vida en general, pero centrados en su trabajo en una planta de montaje de vehículos de General Motors y cómo sus tareas se adaptaban a su forma de ver la vida.
¿Quiere saber más de este libro, sin spoilers? Visite:
https://librosdeolethros.blogspot.com...
Género. Biografía (con toques de ensayo).
Lo que nos cuenta. El libro Historias desde la cadena de montaje (publicación original: Tales from the Assembly Line, 1998), con prólogo de Michael Moore, ofrece los recuerdos del escritor desde su juventud, mezclados con diferentes reflexiones sobre la vida en general, pero centrados en su trabajo en una planta de montaje de vehículos de General Motors y cómo sus tareas se adaptaban a su forma de ver la vida.
¿Quiere saber más de este libro, sin spoilers? Visite:
https://librosdeolethros.blogspot.com...
July 19, 2014
You’re at work. It doesn’t matter if you’re white collar, blue collar, pink collar or no collar at all. Now imagine a grown man walking around your workspace wearing a cat costume. The name of this creature just happens to be Howie Makem (How We Make’em, get it?). Are you imagining this? Are you shaking your head and thinking, “What the hell?”
Well, former GM factory worker and writer Ben Hamper doesn’t have to imagine Howie Makem; he experienced him. And he writes all about it (and other assorted hijinks) in his hilarious and yes, thought-provoking memoir, Rivethead: Tales from the Assembly Line.”
Hamper grew up in Flint, Michigan and worked on the assembly line at the local GM plant. Working at GM was in Hamper’s blood. He was a third generation GM “shoprat.” His grandparents, various aunts and uncles, and his own father worked for GM. A tour of the GM factory where his father worked (when he wasn’t drinking and womanizing) made a young Ben Hamper want to avoid the factory as much as possible. Hamper wanted to be an ambulance driver and later a disc jockey, but with a less than stellar educational record and a family to support, Hamper reluctantly applied at the Flint GM plant where he ended up squeezing rivets (hence the name of the book).
At GM Hamper had a job, not a career. It was a place to earn a paycheck, a paycheck Hamper fully reveals he often used to pay for nights at his favorite bar and punk records. The assembly line was hot, repetitive, stifling, noisy, greasy and often mind-numbingly boring. To break up the monotony of their shifts, Hamper and his co-workers came up with all kinds of shenanigans—racing to the drinking fountains, feeding the factory mice Cheetos, skeet shooting Milk Duds. Hamper and his co-workers also indulged in an activity called “double-up.” To double-up, one worker would do two jobs at once while the other worker would do something else. During double-ups, Hamper would read, hole up at a bar, and often he would write.
Hamper would be the first to admit he and his co-workers didn’t always have the most amazing work ethic and he also knew he was making some great money for his so-called unskilled labor. Yet, there were hard times. Hamper dealt with several layoffs and the possibility of factory closings. And when actually at work, Hamper saw his co-workers do everything from overdosing and barfing their guts out to torching an innocent mouse.
To encourage workers, GM management tried inspire them through an electronic message board, which flashed such erudite quotes such as, “A Winner Never Quits & a Quitter Never Wins,” “Safety is Safe” and Hamper’s personal favorite “Squeezing Rivets is Fun!” But to really get the workers juices flowing, it took a factory floor roaming life-sized cat to make the best quality vehicles on the planet—Howie Makem. Of Howie Makem Hamper writes:
“Howie Makem stood five feet nine. He had light brown fur, long synthetic whiskers and a head the size of a Datsun. He wore a long red cape emblazoned with the letter Q for Quality. A very magical cat, Howie walked everywhere on his hind paws. Cruelly, Howie was not entrusted with a dick.
Howie would make the rounds poking his floppy whiskers in and out of each department. A “Howie sighting” was always cause for great fanfare. The workers would scream and holler and jump up and down on their workbenches whenever Howie drifted by. Howie Makem may have begun as just another Company ploy to prod the tired legions, but most of us ran with the joke and soon Howie evolved into a crazy phenomenon.”
Hmm, Howie Makem sure beats Successories.
To cope with his job (and Howie Makem), Hamper turned to writing, which had been a passion of his since he was a teenager. An unsolicited record review to a local alternative newspaper named the Flint Voice introduced Hamper to Michael Moore (yes, THAT Michael Moore). Moore likes Hamper’s writing style, and encouraged him to write about working for GM, which steered Hamper to writing his own column. Hamper’s column became one of the paper’s most popular reads.
Soon Moore got a job as editor of the notable Mother Jones magazine. He figured Hamper would be the perfect addition, and Moore’s inaugural issue of Mother Jones’ cover story was on Hamper. Hamper thusly became a minor celebrity. He was featured in the Wall Street Journal and on the Today Show. Being an unpretentious guy, Hamper is humored by the idea of celebrity. But before he could become the Hunter S Thompson of the lunch pail crowd, Hamper had to deal with some more serious issues with both his health and his tenure with GM.
All of this led to Hamper writing Rivethead, probably one of the best memoirs I have ever read. I have never worked on an assembly line, but I totally related to Hamper’s tales of workday tedium, silly management decisions, threats of layoffs and restructuring, and oddball co-workers. And I’ve worked in fields that would be considered “creative” where stuff like this isn’t supposed to happen.
Hamper writes in way that is fearless and funny. He gives it to you straight, with no chaser, and dares you to drink it all in and stifle your laughter. Sure, Hamper acted like a goofball, but I wouldn’t be surprised if some of you are reading this review while at work. Yet despite all the shenanigans Hamper describes, I don’t doubt for a moment that he also toiled very hard at a gritty, thankless job that probably wasn’t always appreciated.
Though Rivethead was released over twenty years ago, it is a book that is both timeless and timely, and one I think should be required reading. Sure, we can read memoirs and biographies of industry titans like the late Steve Jobs and Bill Gates. But perhaps it’s time to give a working class (anti) hero like Ben Hamper the attention he, and so many other faceless blue collar Joes and Josephines, deserve.
Originally Published at the Book Self:
http://thebookselfblog.wordpress.com/...
Well, former GM factory worker and writer Ben Hamper doesn’t have to imagine Howie Makem; he experienced him. And he writes all about it (and other assorted hijinks) in his hilarious and yes, thought-provoking memoir, Rivethead: Tales from the Assembly Line.”
Hamper grew up in Flint, Michigan and worked on the assembly line at the local GM plant. Working at GM was in Hamper’s blood. He was a third generation GM “shoprat.” His grandparents, various aunts and uncles, and his own father worked for GM. A tour of the GM factory where his father worked (when he wasn’t drinking and womanizing) made a young Ben Hamper want to avoid the factory as much as possible. Hamper wanted to be an ambulance driver and later a disc jockey, but with a less than stellar educational record and a family to support, Hamper reluctantly applied at the Flint GM plant where he ended up squeezing rivets (hence the name of the book).
At GM Hamper had a job, not a career. It was a place to earn a paycheck, a paycheck Hamper fully reveals he often used to pay for nights at his favorite bar and punk records. The assembly line was hot, repetitive, stifling, noisy, greasy and often mind-numbingly boring. To break up the monotony of their shifts, Hamper and his co-workers came up with all kinds of shenanigans—racing to the drinking fountains, feeding the factory mice Cheetos, skeet shooting Milk Duds. Hamper and his co-workers also indulged in an activity called “double-up.” To double-up, one worker would do two jobs at once while the other worker would do something else. During double-ups, Hamper would read, hole up at a bar, and often he would write.
Hamper would be the first to admit he and his co-workers didn’t always have the most amazing work ethic and he also knew he was making some great money for his so-called unskilled labor. Yet, there were hard times. Hamper dealt with several layoffs and the possibility of factory closings. And when actually at work, Hamper saw his co-workers do everything from overdosing and barfing their guts out to torching an innocent mouse.
To encourage workers, GM management tried inspire them through an electronic message board, which flashed such erudite quotes such as, “A Winner Never Quits & a Quitter Never Wins,” “Safety is Safe” and Hamper’s personal favorite “Squeezing Rivets is Fun!” But to really get the workers juices flowing, it took a factory floor roaming life-sized cat to make the best quality vehicles on the planet—Howie Makem. Of Howie Makem Hamper writes:
“Howie Makem stood five feet nine. He had light brown fur, long synthetic whiskers and a head the size of a Datsun. He wore a long red cape emblazoned with the letter Q for Quality. A very magical cat, Howie walked everywhere on his hind paws. Cruelly, Howie was not entrusted with a dick.
Howie would make the rounds poking his floppy whiskers in and out of each department. A “Howie sighting” was always cause for great fanfare. The workers would scream and holler and jump up and down on their workbenches whenever Howie drifted by. Howie Makem may have begun as just another Company ploy to prod the tired legions, but most of us ran with the joke and soon Howie evolved into a crazy phenomenon.”
Hmm, Howie Makem sure beats Successories.
To cope with his job (and Howie Makem), Hamper turned to writing, which had been a passion of his since he was a teenager. An unsolicited record review to a local alternative newspaper named the Flint Voice introduced Hamper to Michael Moore (yes, THAT Michael Moore). Moore likes Hamper’s writing style, and encouraged him to write about working for GM, which steered Hamper to writing his own column. Hamper’s column became one of the paper’s most popular reads.
Soon Moore got a job as editor of the notable Mother Jones magazine. He figured Hamper would be the perfect addition, and Moore’s inaugural issue of Mother Jones’ cover story was on Hamper. Hamper thusly became a minor celebrity. He was featured in the Wall Street Journal and on the Today Show. Being an unpretentious guy, Hamper is humored by the idea of celebrity. But before he could become the Hunter S Thompson of the lunch pail crowd, Hamper had to deal with some more serious issues with both his health and his tenure with GM.
All of this led to Hamper writing Rivethead, probably one of the best memoirs I have ever read. I have never worked on an assembly line, but I totally related to Hamper’s tales of workday tedium, silly management decisions, threats of layoffs and restructuring, and oddball co-workers. And I’ve worked in fields that would be considered “creative” where stuff like this isn’t supposed to happen.
Hamper writes in way that is fearless and funny. He gives it to you straight, with no chaser, and dares you to drink it all in and stifle your laughter. Sure, Hamper acted like a goofball, but I wouldn’t be surprised if some of you are reading this review while at work. Yet despite all the shenanigans Hamper describes, I don’t doubt for a moment that he also toiled very hard at a gritty, thankless job that probably wasn’t always appreciated.
Though Rivethead was released over twenty years ago, it is a book that is both timeless and timely, and one I think should be required reading. Sure, we can read memoirs and biographies of industry titans like the late Steve Jobs and Bill Gates. But perhaps it’s time to give a working class (anti) hero like Ben Hamper the attention he, and so many other faceless blue collar Joes and Josephines, deserve.
Originally Published at the Book Self:
http://thebookselfblog.wordpress.com/...
June 14, 2015
I read Rivethead from the perspective of someone for who lived through the time period this book was written in. Very little of this touches my direct experience except vicariously though the stories of people I've known who have lived a version of the life described herein. I mention this because, as in my reading of Nothin' But Blue Skies: The Heyday, Hard Times, and Hopes of America's Industrial Heartland, I do have a slightly stronger connection than someone reading this to get off on Rust Belt Chic ruin porn hipsterism.
Those sorts would paint Hamper as a working class revolutionary, an embedded journalist exposing the truth of life at the bottom of the American auto industry in Flint, MI in the late '80s and early '90s. Certainly, the book's blurbs lead you to that line of thinking. But Hamper's and his cohorts' enemies weren't really General Motors, its then-Chairman and CEO Robert Smith, or even the shop foremen of the Truck and Bus plant. Hamper writes, "Our only adversary was Father Time", that is, the interminably slow second hand of the clock, plodding toward the end of your shift, during which your only choices are to either occupy your mind with plots to sneak out of the plant, inventing workplace-unsafe and semi-violent games like "Rivet Hockey" and "Dumpster Ball", or numbing your mind with chemicals. Anything to escape the tedium of the "unskilled labor" for which men like Hamper were programmed. Hamper doesn't (intentionally) expose a corporation's secret agenda; he's writing about what he's living, with skills he gleaned from Catholic high school education, reading and writing poetry, listening to Mothers of Invention albums, and taking LSD. The result is prose that simultaneously delights even as it shames you for thinking, "This, from a shoprat?"
Hamper is very much a product of his time and place, a Boomer writer using WWII and Viet Nam War references to talk about the Midwest cultural clashes surrounding him: Salaried employees vs. hourly employees. Foremen vs. the shoprats. Fathers vs. sons. Mars vs. Venus. Art rock vs. Classic rock. Living and writing within his comfort zone vs. the life he could've had, and actually sampled through his association with filmmaker Michael Moore. (The book is worth the price of admission just to read an account of Moore outside of Moore's narrative.) Thing is, you wouldn't think a book of pieces written in the late '80s/early '90s would be as even-handed as it is about the US auto industry's competition with Japan, and so you learn things like about how GM didn't just try to instill a fear of Toyota in its workers, but of Ford, as well.
Consequently, being a product of his time and place, the writing shows Hamper's exposure to the background radiation of racism, classism, misogyny, body-shaming, slut-shaming, homophobia, and ableism you'd expect from someone who grew up the Midwest in the '60s and '70s. (One plus: the use of the word tranny in the book only ever refers to an automobile's transmission.) I have no reason to believe Hamper would espouse or display the above; I doubt he would in this day and age where he continues to do the occassional reading. But neither does Hamper try to disabuse you of the notion that some of his family and coworkers might.
Hamper is often referred to as Flint's answer to Cleveland's Harvey Pekar. Hamper's output and subject matter certainly bear a resemblance, from life on the job right down to the unique cast of secondary characters from the line. Neither men particularly want your praise or your pity. But even Pekar's observations occasionally had bright, if rare, moments of optimism. Harvey wanted to show profundity hidden in the quotidian. Hamper, on the other hand, shows you absurdity hidden in the drudgery.
In the end, Rivethead is the story of a man embracing his destiny, for better AND for worse, and ending in a place you don't expect but by which you shouldn't be especially shocked.
Those sorts would paint Hamper as a working class revolutionary, an embedded journalist exposing the truth of life at the bottom of the American auto industry in Flint, MI in the late '80s and early '90s. Certainly, the book's blurbs lead you to that line of thinking. But Hamper's and his cohorts' enemies weren't really General Motors, its then-Chairman and CEO Robert Smith, or even the shop foremen of the Truck and Bus plant. Hamper writes, "Our only adversary was Father Time", that is, the interminably slow second hand of the clock, plodding toward the end of your shift, during which your only choices are to either occupy your mind with plots to sneak out of the plant, inventing workplace-unsafe and semi-violent games like "Rivet Hockey" and "Dumpster Ball", or numbing your mind with chemicals. Anything to escape the tedium of the "unskilled labor" for which men like Hamper were programmed. Hamper doesn't (intentionally) expose a corporation's secret agenda; he's writing about what he's living, with skills he gleaned from Catholic high school education, reading and writing poetry, listening to Mothers of Invention albums, and taking LSD. The result is prose that simultaneously delights even as it shames you for thinking, "This, from a shoprat?"
Hamper is very much a product of his time and place, a Boomer writer using WWII and Viet Nam War references to talk about the Midwest cultural clashes surrounding him: Salaried employees vs. hourly employees. Foremen vs. the shoprats. Fathers vs. sons. Mars vs. Venus. Art rock vs. Classic rock. Living and writing within his comfort zone vs. the life he could've had, and actually sampled through his association with filmmaker Michael Moore. (The book is worth the price of admission just to read an account of Moore outside of Moore's narrative.) Thing is, you wouldn't think a book of pieces written in the late '80s/early '90s would be as even-handed as it is about the US auto industry's competition with Japan, and so you learn things like about how GM didn't just try to instill a fear of Toyota in its workers, but of Ford, as well.
Consequently, being a product of his time and place, the writing shows Hamper's exposure to the background radiation of racism, classism, misogyny, body-shaming, slut-shaming, homophobia, and ableism you'd expect from someone who grew up the Midwest in the '60s and '70s. (One plus: the use of the word tranny in the book only ever refers to an automobile's transmission.) I have no reason to believe Hamper would espouse or display the above; I doubt he would in this day and age where he continues to do the occassional reading. But neither does Hamper try to disabuse you of the notion that some of his family and coworkers might.
Hamper is often referred to as Flint's answer to Cleveland's Harvey Pekar. Hamper's output and subject matter certainly bear a resemblance, from life on the job right down to the unique cast of secondary characters from the line. Neither men particularly want your praise or your pity. But even Pekar's observations occasionally had bright, if rare, moments of optimism. Harvey wanted to show profundity hidden in the quotidian. Hamper, on the other hand, shows you absurdity hidden in the drudgery.
In the end, Rivethead is the story of a man embracing his destiny, for better AND for worse, and ending in a place you don't expect but by which you shouldn't be especially shocked.
The truth was loose: I was the son of a son of a bitch, an ancestral prodigy born to clobber my way through loathsome dungheaps of idiot labor. My genes were cocked and loaded. I was a meteor, a gunslinger, a switchblade boomerang hurled from the pecker dribblets of my forefathers' untainted jalopy seed. I was Al Kaline peggin’ home a beebee from the right field corner. I was Picasso applyin’ the final masterstroke to his frenzied Guernica. I was Wilson Pickett stompin’ up the stairway of the Midnight Hour. I was one blazin’ tomahawk of m-fuggin’ eel snot. Graceful and indomitable. Methodical and brain-dead. The quintessential shoprat. The Rivethead.
June 5, 2020
To get through college I worked in a New England factory that manufactured miniature precision ball bearings. When I applied I was told "We tend to not have much luck with college students so don't expect you will last long, but we are desperate for help." So, I was proud of the fact that I made it through 3 and a half years until graduation, moving from metal grinding machine operator to set-up machinist to quality control technician and tough as it got at times, I would not trade the experience. It is a different world but I found a lot of commonalities among my co-workers and found some very bright people among them who would have done well in other professions had they been able to pursue training/education but could not due to costs or would not due to lack of interest in formal education. Surprising how well some were able to educate themselves through a lot of outside reading.
Some years later, working Chicago as a territory for a consumer electronics firm, I was introduced to the articles of a "blue collar writer" named Michael Lavelle who wrote a column for the Tribune and provided some interesting insight of the world of the common laborer. He passed in '96 at age 64 but I remember his writings fondly so when I came across mention of "Rivethead", I knew I had to give it a try.
This book is made more interesting due to his relationship to Michael Moore and his publications. Michael later went on to film some rather interesting documentaries regarding General Motors, the U.S. healthcare system, etc. For a time he was the editor of "Mother Jones" and brought this writer along to promote him to the big leagues relative to the small Flint Michigan market.
While I am not a big fan of vernacular profanity, as used here it is at least realistic, the real world being what it is. I can identify with his preference for the night shift as mine was the second shift, 3-11 and we always enjoyed it when the executives and supervisors headed for the door at 5.
Fortunately, most of the tasks I faced were not as tedious as those he portrays but still some interesting observations in the games people play and the inanity of the management mind. Read it for some insight, or if you have been there, for the remembrance. Or if you are still there, for the possibilities.
Some years later, working Chicago as a territory for a consumer electronics firm, I was introduced to the articles of a "blue collar writer" named Michael Lavelle who wrote a column for the Tribune and provided some interesting insight of the world of the common laborer. He passed in '96 at age 64 but I remember his writings fondly so when I came across mention of "Rivethead", I knew I had to give it a try.
This book is made more interesting due to his relationship to Michael Moore and his publications. Michael later went on to film some rather interesting documentaries regarding General Motors, the U.S. healthcare system, etc. For a time he was the editor of "Mother Jones" and brought this writer along to promote him to the big leagues relative to the small Flint Michigan market.
While I am not a big fan of vernacular profanity, as used here it is at least realistic, the real world being what it is. I can identify with his preference for the night shift as mine was the second shift, 3-11 and we always enjoyed it when the executives and supervisors headed for the door at 5.
Fortunately, most of the tasks I faced were not as tedious as those he portrays but still some interesting observations in the games people play and the inanity of the management mind. Read it for some insight, or if you have been there, for the remembrance. Or if you are still there, for the possibilities.
September 4, 2019
Disappointing!
This book was recommended to me, and got fairly good Amazon reviews, and I can't see why. The author's writing is sooo self-congratulatory—the book is a mix of Ben Hamper describing all the ways in which he got out of doing any work while still getting paid, and remarks and vignettes that Ben clearly thinks are incredibly funny. I would have enjoyed it more if there was more information about the assembly line work, the way the plant operated, maybe stuff about the cars that they were building. Instead, it's repeated stories about how he figured out how to trick his bosses into thinking he was working, or how he would work 2 hours and then fake it for the rest of the day.
The writing wasn't good, the humor wasn't funny, and telling me over and over again how great you are tends to make me think the opposite. It reads like something that maybe your buddy's alcoholic father wrote and self-published. I feel like I wasted my money :(
This book was recommended to me, and got fairly good Amazon reviews, and I can't see why. The author's writing is sooo self-congratulatory—the book is a mix of Ben Hamper describing all the ways in which he got out of doing any work while still getting paid, and remarks and vignettes that Ben clearly thinks are incredibly funny. I would have enjoyed it more if there was more information about the assembly line work, the way the plant operated, maybe stuff about the cars that they were building. Instead, it's repeated stories about how he figured out how to trick his bosses into thinking he was working, or how he would work 2 hours and then fake it for the rest of the day.
The writing wasn't good, the humor wasn't funny, and telling me over and over again how great you are tends to make me think the opposite. It reads like something that maybe your buddy's alcoholic father wrote and self-published. I feel like I wasted my money :(
October 10, 2022
The book has some really good stories and paints a picture of what it is like to be a rivet head. I liked having the raw and honest stories that tell the day to day. The writing is a lot more like a conversation of story telling in place of traditional writing so I had a reread some parts every so often to fully understand the message. The chapters are very long so it's somewhat hard to commit to reading for 30+ minutes at a time.
January 27, 2022
I was so excited to read this book. Though Hamper started getting his material published in the 1980's and this was published in 1992, this was a new discovery for me. I myself come from a blue collar background, have worked in similar environs, and am of a similar age. All the blurbs made it clear not to expect a genteel examination of the realities of an assembly line/blue collar grunt, but I thought he was giving voice to sadly under-represented voices... not a critical examination from some detached intellectual, but the lived experience. Count me in! Early on I was enjoying it, but the self-abnegation quickly became tiresome, and the sarcastic comments at every single turn became expected and lost its humour. I could recognize and appreciate the dehumanizing aspects of the GM assembly line, and how he/they were trapped to one degree or another, but as the pages wore on I was hoping for just the smallest hint of something beyond the self-loathing, the anxieties, the helplessness, the endless self-deprecation.
Despite a never-ending litany of drug and alcohol use of epic proportions, both on the job and in their personal lives, violence, mental health issues, workplace injuries, etc., Hamper states that the sight of one of his newly married workmates..."'paradin' his wife through the department to show the workplace... struck me as one of the saddest things I had ever witnessed- inside or outside a General Motors facility." This captures two points... first, the centrality of his repugnance for the workplace, and secondly, his appalling view of women. Yes, I get that some would excuse this; it was written in the 1980's after all! Well, from my point of view when the only references to women are as some version of a harlot, or for their sexual attractiveness, it isn't something I can overlook. Oh, not quite accurate... there is the female who Represents, of course. The heroine, (who has to be at least decent enough looking not to offend the eyes), beats the odds, and earns manly respect. "When she had first arrived on the Rivet Line, Janice was vulnerable and naive. There were times I thought she'd never make it. I was dead wrong. She transcended the token female role and became one of the boys- a description she was utterly comfortable with." He never once referred to her by the multitudes of pejoratives he used for other women... way to go Janice!
If you want something about the working class viewpoint that has at least a hint of the larger picture, it isn't to be found here. Hamper admits to a frozen adolescence, and the book reflects that on every page.
Despite a never-ending litany of drug and alcohol use of epic proportions, both on the job and in their personal lives, violence, mental health issues, workplace injuries, etc., Hamper states that the sight of one of his newly married workmates..."'paradin' his wife through the department to show the workplace... struck me as one of the saddest things I had ever witnessed- inside or outside a General Motors facility." This captures two points... first, the centrality of his repugnance for the workplace, and secondly, his appalling view of women. Yes, I get that some would excuse this; it was written in the 1980's after all! Well, from my point of view when the only references to women are as some version of a harlot, or for their sexual attractiveness, it isn't something I can overlook. Oh, not quite accurate... there is the female who Represents, of course. The heroine, (who has to be at least decent enough looking not to offend the eyes), beats the odds, and earns manly respect. "When she had first arrived on the Rivet Line, Janice was vulnerable and naive. There were times I thought she'd never make it. I was dead wrong. She transcended the token female role and became one of the boys- a description she was utterly comfortable with." He never once referred to her by the multitudes of pejoratives he used for other women... way to go Janice!
If you want something about the working class viewpoint that has at least a hint of the larger picture, it isn't to be found here. Hamper admits to a frozen adolescence, and the book reflects that on every page.
September 14, 2012
A true classic of gonzo journalism, Hampered unhinged assembly line autobiography displays all the spontaniety and excitement his job lacked. I relate to his punk, anti-establishment rivalry with order, conformtiy, and complacency. He describes himself as "sulking and cynical", as am I. The insights into comrade Michael Moore's career for Harry Chapin charity case to fired Mother Jones editor are revealing in a subtle way, too.
December 28, 2012
This autobiography covers the career of a "shoprat" working at GM. It covers his reluctance to work at GM, through to his reluctance to leave. I will be honest and say I read the book from cover to cover in a matter of days. I was certainly interested in where Ben's life may lead him. I'll give the book 4 stars simply because it kept my interest and created a very strong emotional reaction.
Although a major fan of sarcasm, I actually found the book to be quite sad and I was concerned for Ben's mental condition pretty early in the book. The book brought about a lot of debate between me and my husband. His grandfather was a "shoprat" at GM before he had retired in 1986. He said he could see where monotony could lead to a great deal of frustration and possibly into alcohol abuse.
I came from a family who farmed and drug-abuse/alcoholism was a very quick way to get fired or lose an arm to a PTO. I was sickened by the thought of my mothers 1985 GM pick-up being made by this bunch of miscreants, alcoholics, and drug-addled employees. Ben often complains (as his buddy Mike Moore did) about Roger Smith moving operations out of the Flint plant to one that is more robotic. Well, robots don't get drunk at lunch, work 1/2 days (while sitting at home on the clock for the remainder of their shift), and certainly don't kick rivets at co-workers for sh*ts and giggles. His inability to see that he was part of the problem for plant closure was astounding to me.
I suppose I would recommend the read to others to get a view of manufacturing from the worker's perspective....but I don't think I would recommend as "a riot" or a rollercoaster ride of sarcasm. I would actually recommend with a warning that you will have an eye-opening read about negativity and years of pent-up anger.
The book is still relevant. With the recent economic downturn the lay-offs will hit home. (I, too, have felt that anguish). And with the recent debacle with the drinking during lunch breaks at Chrysler, this book would indicate that drinking at lunch is a very common practice for some employees...maybe a bigger problem than originally thought.
If you were a fan of Michael Moore's "Roger & Me", this would be a good companion read to the movie. But, as you can probably tell, I was not a fan of Mr. Moore's movie, either.
Although a major fan of sarcasm, I actually found the book to be quite sad and I was concerned for Ben's mental condition pretty early in the book. The book brought about a lot of debate between me and my husband. His grandfather was a "shoprat" at GM before he had retired in 1986. He said he could see where monotony could lead to a great deal of frustration and possibly into alcohol abuse.
I came from a family who farmed and drug-abuse/alcoholism was a very quick way to get fired or lose an arm to a PTO. I was sickened by the thought of my mothers 1985 GM pick-up being made by this bunch of miscreants, alcoholics, and drug-addled employees. Ben often complains (as his buddy Mike Moore did) about Roger Smith moving operations out of the Flint plant to one that is more robotic. Well, robots don't get drunk at lunch, work 1/2 days (while sitting at home on the clock for the remainder of their shift), and certainly don't kick rivets at co-workers for sh*ts and giggles. His inability to see that he was part of the problem for plant closure was astounding to me.
I suppose I would recommend the read to others to get a view of manufacturing from the worker's perspective....but I don't think I would recommend as "a riot" or a rollercoaster ride of sarcasm. I would actually recommend with a warning that you will have an eye-opening read about negativity and years of pent-up anger.
The book is still relevant. With the recent economic downturn the lay-offs will hit home. (I, too, have felt that anguish). And with the recent debacle with the drinking during lunch breaks at Chrysler, this book would indicate that drinking at lunch is a very common practice for some employees...maybe a bigger problem than originally thought.
If you were a fan of Michael Moore's "Roger & Me", this would be a good companion read to the movie. But, as you can probably tell, I was not a fan of Mr. Moore's movie, either.
October 2, 2022
Very disappointing -- had high hopes for this view from the assembly line, especially since I read a good review of it in some publication I respected (perhaps the Wall Street Journal). Yes, there IS something to be learned here about life as a GM "shop rat," but not much. Worst of all, it is wildly overwritten and overwrought -- reads like what it began as: a smart-ass column in a left-wing "underground" or "alternative" newspaper. How many strained similes and cutesy metaphors can one stack into one sentence? I stopped counting. Let's just say it reminded me of the way I wrote in my high-school newspaper.
I will come back to this review* when I can track down one of the most blatant ridiculous sentences . . . the last few words of a very long word stew were " . . . like a heat-seeking greeting card." Huh?
I'm just glad I picked this up at a thrift store or Little Free Library -- to whence it shall return.
*Decided not to waste time looking for the complete sentence. You get the idea.
I will come back to this review* when I can track down one of the most blatant ridiculous sentences . . . the last few words of a very long word stew were " . . . like a heat-seeking greeting card." Huh?
I'm just glad I picked this up at a thrift store or Little Free Library -- to whence it shall return.
*Decided not to waste time looking for the complete sentence. You get the idea.
May 15, 2023
"Nor could I tell him that the only ones who are gonna survive thirty years on an assembly line are those who can consistently blot out the gradual and persistent decay of the trick. There really isn't anything gallant or noble about being a factory hack. The whole arrangement equals nothing more than lousy prostitution. Thinking tears you apart. Start peering at the walls too closely or leaning on the clock too heavily and the whoremaster reality of all this idiocy will surely gobble your ass up whole. The demons aren't demons. The demons are you."
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 11, 2008
I remember reading this book for a college class at CMU it gave me a bit of the picture that my dad has seen everyday since 1975 (dad's been a blue collar GM employee way to long). I brought it home and both of my parents read it. My Mom gave Dad steak dinners for a week. He was one of the guys that went straight home after work and didn't blow his check in the bars on Dort Hwy. My dad's only comment after he read it was "yep its pretty much just like that"
February 19, 2011
Great book describing the "shop life" I witnessed first-hand growing up around Flint, Michigan. Hamper's description of the corporate policies, especially the quality/safety-related stuff is hilarious. Having said that, the fact is that the life of the auto worker is a hard and often depressing cycle of layoffs, depression, and uncertainty.
August 2, 2024
This is the second time I have read this book, but it’s been 25+ years since I read it the first time. Very few books bring me back “home” like this one. Transforms me back to my youth. I grew up in the Detroit area. My neighborhood was full of “shop rats” who toiled on the various automotive assembly lines which were all around the area back in those days. These were the dads that threw us off the raft on our lake playing “King of the Hill”. These were the dads that I delivered the afternoon paper to six days a week. These were the dads that we played “cat and mouse” with on Devil’s Night. These were the Dads we would challenge to snowball fights, ask them to play all-time quarterback so we could “catch bombs” for TD’s, race them on our snowmobiles in the winter and motorcycles in the summer. These were the dads who taught me how to play golf at an early age. These were the dads I paid genuine homage to; sitting quietly on a snowbank at our “pond rink” every Saturday morning in the winter. I was always there; hoping one day those shop rats would acquiesce and finally think I was old enough / man enough to let me play in the Saturday morning hockey game. Truly, a right of passage in our neighborhood! A lot of those dads still played in the beer leagues at the local rinks during the week after their shifts were over. These were the guys who would regale us wide eyed youngsters with stories about co-workers much like the author from their plants. The Wixom Ford plant, GM Proving Grounds, Pontiac Assembly plant, Buick City, (that’s what we called the massive Flint complex where the author worked) Tier one suppliers and others. I suspect some of the neighborhood dads were just like the author, but we never knew…..
Over time, those shop rats ended up being the guys I went to school with who, (like the author) saw no redeeming value in attending any school, much less college. Just get a job “on the line”. A generational tradition so accurately described in this book. Until we got older, we could never comprehend what shop rats went through. To us; they were warriors. My Dad was not a shop rat. One of only a couple in our neighborhood. I promised myself from an early age, I would take a different path, (and I did). Although I did work one summer in the Lansing Cadillac plant, trying to pay my debts to MSU. But, it was only a janitors job and they had no place for me the following summer. The late 70’s roller coaster-like swings of the auto market, (very personal to me and painfully described in this book) hastened my exit from my home state. It’s how I ended up in Chicago.
Enjoy the dark humor and insanity that he describes here. I did!! If you are from that area like me, you’ll understand and it’ll resonate with you to your core. Those auto workers made a lot of money in those days, but it was only a matter of time before automation, (and in some cases their demons) got the best of them. Regardless; oh the fondness we had for those guys growing up! They were always messin’ with us as we tried, (unsuccessfully) to run rough shod over our neighborhood!! It was a great place to grow up! It’s why I always have and will forever be proud to say when someone asks, “Damn right I’m from Detroit!” None of us ever said it was glamorous; but if you’re not from there, we really don’t care what your opinion might be!
Over time, those shop rats ended up being the guys I went to school with who, (like the author) saw no redeeming value in attending any school, much less college. Just get a job “on the line”. A generational tradition so accurately described in this book. Until we got older, we could never comprehend what shop rats went through. To us; they were warriors. My Dad was not a shop rat. One of only a couple in our neighborhood. I promised myself from an early age, I would take a different path, (and I did). Although I did work one summer in the Lansing Cadillac plant, trying to pay my debts to MSU. But, it was only a janitors job and they had no place for me the following summer. The late 70’s roller coaster-like swings of the auto market, (very personal to me and painfully described in this book) hastened my exit from my home state. It’s how I ended up in Chicago.
Enjoy the dark humor and insanity that he describes here. I did!! If you are from that area like me, you’ll understand and it’ll resonate with you to your core. Those auto workers made a lot of money in those days, but it was only a matter of time before automation, (and in some cases their demons) got the best of them. Regardless; oh the fondness we had for those guys growing up! They were always messin’ with us as we tried, (unsuccessfully) to run rough shod over our neighborhood!! It was a great place to grow up! It’s why I always have and will forever be proud to say when someone asks, “Damn right I’m from Detroit!” None of us ever said it was glamorous; but if you’re not from there, we really don’t care what your opinion might be!
August 1, 2023
This is an interesting an honest look at manufacturing work and assembly line work for GM from 1977 to 1988. You can see both sides in this book. Why do some people hate unions and call union labor lazy. You can also see the dark, corporate take-all side of a margin business. I applauded Ben for his honesty. I'm struck and discouraged by the fact that there was no real dialog between the workers and management. No real team spirit. Both sides suspected the other and tried to get or take the most they could. This book provides a good understanding of how we have come to where we are now. Those jobs don't exist any longer, they're all done by robots. Corporate take today is at an all time high. This book is good food for thought, but the conversation isn't done yet.
January 6, 2019
In an age in which authenticity has become a vapid surrogate for reality, Ben Hamper's book is still the real deal. Part eagle-eyed truth teller, part blue-collar savant, Hamper's ruthless insightfulness is matched only by his determination to let no obsequiously fraudulent sycophant go unscathed.
This passage alone is worth the purchase price of the book:
I had become terribly weary of hearing a number of these flimflam rock ’n’ roll mongers pluggin’ up the airwaves with their detached meanderings of “da average man, man.” Goddamn millionaires mewing’ all over the dial about how bad the grind was. When? Where? How? They should have all be forced to write songs about cocaine orgies and tax shelters and beluga caviar. Leave us alone.
Average man? Shit, Billy Joel wasn’t “livin’ here in Allentown.” He was twirlin’ tongues with Christie Brinkley in some high-rise china cabinet. If that’s average, how come the steering gear man wasn’t bangin’ Cheryl Tiegs? …
And what about Bob Seger? He might’ve been from our neck of the woods, he might have put out some hot-ass groove before before sellin’ out to housewife drivel but he sure as hell wasn’t “makin’ Thunderbirds.” He was buying them! Probably by the lot load. Get outta here, you four-flusher.
Hey, when was the last time you saw John Cougar Mellonfarm when he wasn’t strategically positioned within a five-foot radius of: a) corn on the cob b) a manure rake or c) some dilapidated porch brimming with Jed Clampett clones and pregnant Negresses? C’mon, Johnny, you don’t mean to tell us you lug all those things into the Jacuzzi with ya, huh? Go inseminate a tractor, bub.
Then, of course, there’s Springsteen. Who says you can’t be 297 places all at once? The guy has made untold zillions hoppin’ to and fro in his house of hallucinations, always emerging on release date as either a construction worker (The River), a garage mechanic (I’m on Fire), a minor league batting instructor (Glory Days), the kindred spirit of Charlie Starkweather (Nebraska) or some other pockmarked casualty of Crud Corners. No wonder this guy’s concerts run on to half-past never. It takes a heap of time to sing from A (aviator) to Z (zincographer). Yo, Boss, you didn’t happen to have an older sister named Sybil by any chance?
From GM (General Motors) as a microcosm of the real world to GMA (Good Morning America) as its pop-culture facsimile, Rivethead is life in these here United States, from the bottom looking up, with no rose-colored filters.
This passage alone is worth the purchase price of the book:
I had become terribly weary of hearing a number of these flimflam rock ’n’ roll mongers pluggin’ up the airwaves with their detached meanderings of “da average man, man.” Goddamn millionaires mewing’ all over the dial about how bad the grind was. When? Where? How? They should have all be forced to write songs about cocaine orgies and tax shelters and beluga caviar. Leave us alone.
Average man? Shit, Billy Joel wasn’t “livin’ here in Allentown.” He was twirlin’ tongues with Christie Brinkley in some high-rise china cabinet. If that’s average, how come the steering gear man wasn’t bangin’ Cheryl Tiegs? …
And what about Bob Seger? He might’ve been from our neck of the woods, he might have put out some hot-ass groove before before sellin’ out to housewife drivel but he sure as hell wasn’t “makin’ Thunderbirds.” He was buying them! Probably by the lot load. Get outta here, you four-flusher.
Hey, when was the last time you saw John Cougar Mellonfarm when he wasn’t strategically positioned within a five-foot radius of: a) corn on the cob b) a manure rake or c) some dilapidated porch brimming with Jed Clampett clones and pregnant Negresses? C’mon, Johnny, you don’t mean to tell us you lug all those things into the Jacuzzi with ya, huh? Go inseminate a tractor, bub.
Then, of course, there’s Springsteen. Who says you can’t be 297 places all at once? The guy has made untold zillions hoppin’ to and fro in his house of hallucinations, always emerging on release date as either a construction worker (The River), a garage mechanic (I’m on Fire), a minor league batting instructor (Glory Days), the kindred spirit of Charlie Starkweather (Nebraska) or some other pockmarked casualty of Crud Corners. No wonder this guy’s concerts run on to half-past never. It takes a heap of time to sing from A (aviator) to Z (zincographer). Yo, Boss, you didn’t happen to have an older sister named Sybil by any chance?
From GM (General Motors) as a microcosm of the real world to GMA (Good Morning America) as its pop-culture facsimile, Rivethead is life in these here United States, from the bottom looking up, with no rose-colored filters.
March 15, 2009
Ben Hamper worked on the production line of the General Motors bus and truck plant in Flint, Michigan from 1977 to 1988, and wrote about the experience in this book. It is a rambling and often funny account of mind-numbingly dull work, schemes employed by the workers to make it less dull, and the equally inane managerial schemes to, well, manage. Witness Howie Makem, the "Quality Cat" mascot, an actor in a cat costume showing up at various intervals to get the workers to produce higher-quality vehicles.
The books should be required reading for business school students (and is in some courses) showing the sometimes vast difference between the managerial and worker view of the world. Hamper ridicules the ways of top management, while at the same time showing how, with relatively little effort (such as, when the factory in-house magazine reports that a country music singer was going to buy one of their cars, Hamper wants to know which car it would be and realizing that that was the first time he ever heard anything about who the customer was). In the end, the dull and hard work: Hamper develops anxiety attacks and eventually drops out from the assembly line. You kind of suspect it is from under-use of his brain - he likens it to forever dropping out of high school, staying in suspended animation in a never-ending adolescence, seeking relief in alcohol and mindless games.
Highly recommended because it offers a different view of things, sorely needed as something of a counterweight to all the starry-eyed management books out there. And it leaves you wondering, as Hamper does: If not the assembly line, what else can a middle-aged autoworker with no marketable skills do? Hamper can write and do auto shows. Most of his colleagues, you suspect, cannot. Given the current state of General Motors (at present, bankruptcy seems inevitable within a year) this is a question of more than fleeting interest for a sizeable portion of the US workforce.
The books should be required reading for business school students (and is in some courses) showing the sometimes vast difference between the managerial and worker view of the world. Hamper ridicules the ways of top management, while at the same time showing how, with relatively little effort (such as, when the factory in-house magazine reports that a country music singer was going to buy one of their cars, Hamper wants to know which car it would be and realizing that that was the first time he ever heard anything about who the customer was). In the end, the dull and hard work: Hamper develops anxiety attacks and eventually drops out from the assembly line. You kind of suspect it is from under-use of his brain - he likens it to forever dropping out of high school, staying in suspended animation in a never-ending adolescence, seeking relief in alcohol and mindless games.
Highly recommended because it offers a different view of things, sorely needed as something of a counterweight to all the starry-eyed management books out there. And it leaves you wondering, as Hamper does: If not the assembly line, what else can a middle-aged autoworker with no marketable skills do? Hamper can write and do auto shows. Most of his colleagues, you suspect, cannot. Given the current state of General Motors (at present, bankruptcy seems inevitable within a year) this is a question of more than fleeting interest for a sizeable portion of the US workforce.
July 1, 2008
A look into factory life from the perspective of an assembly line worker. Hamper wrote articles about factory life for Michael Moore's Flint Voice. The author effectively portrays the average worker as a cog in the machine of GM. Along the way, he tells stories of "shoprats" drinking on the job, devising ways to share work, and creating ways to battle the urge to watch the clock. The stories become somewhat redundant, but that could be unavoidable since he writes about life on the assembly line and cyclical unemployment.
On one hand, one must sympathize with the factory worker who deals with the daily grind of a meaningless job that pays well and the lack of concern their employer shows for their safety and job satisfaction. Conversely, one could think that they are not trapped and have the free will and determination to alter their paths rather than using their energy to find more creative shortcuts and ways to drink unnoticed on the job.
On one hand, one must sympathize with the factory worker who deals with the daily grind of a meaningless job that pays well and the lack of concern their employer shows for their safety and job satisfaction. Conversely, one could think that they are not trapped and have the free will and determination to alter their paths rather than using their energy to find more creative shortcuts and ways to drink unnoticed on the job.
June 21, 2020
It's amazing how much has changed in 40(ish) years. (Binge)-Drinking on the job, concocting schemes to get through grueling work days, griping publicly about work conditions, having lax security in big-business factories...it's almost fairytale-like in this day and age. And yet, Ben Hamper did it all and then some. His takes and analogies can make anyone, even someone who's never heard of a rivet, let alone known what toiling ten hours affixing them to car parts feels like, laugh out loud. There are plenty of cringe-worthy moments and passages that remind us that some things - and many words - are better left in the past, but it doesn't stop from the enjoyment you feel at Hamper's way with words.
Wherever Hamper is now, I sincerely hope it's with a healthier liver and a typewriter handy. Being a Rivethead may have been his calling for a time, but writing is obviously what he shines at.
Wherever Hamper is now, I sincerely hope it's with a healthier liver and a typewriter handy. Being a Rivethead may have been his calling for a time, but writing is obviously what he shines at.
February 16, 2013
This book was the best my best find in recent years. Hamper was an assembly line worker in Flint Michigan at a GM plant, and Michael Moore (best known for his documentaries) got him to start writing.
This book is fantastic. Hamper is cynical, funny and insightful, but also more than that. I got the fantastic insight into blue-collar working class of America (which I honestly didn't even know I needed until I put it down).
I can't recommend the book enough. The quality of writing may not match Steinbeck (most of it is very dynamic and beautifully written, but every once in a while he loses the pace... still, a perfectly good read), but the book is easily up there with Grapes of Wrath or the Cannery Row as far as dissecting American culture goes, and it should be (and as far as I can see, often is) a part of American studies curriculum at many universities.
Read it!
This book is fantastic. Hamper is cynical, funny and insightful, but also more than that. I got the fantastic insight into blue-collar working class of America (which I honestly didn't even know I needed until I put it down).
I can't recommend the book enough. The quality of writing may not match Steinbeck (most of it is very dynamic and beautifully written, but every once in a while he loses the pace... still, a perfectly good read), but the book is easily up there with Grapes of Wrath or the Cannery Row as far as dissecting American culture goes, and it should be (and as far as I can see, often is) a part of American studies curriculum at many universities.
Read it!
February 1, 2016
Too much reality for the car buyers out there.
I grew up in Flint until I graduated high school and left to avoid the fate of becoming a character in this book. Actually I was an eighty nine day temp at Fisher Body when there was such a thing. The money was great for a summer job but there was no way I could ever commit to it for real. Ben spells it out here. It sucks to have any creativity in your resume and do this time. I always think back to this kid who worked across from me on the endless line of swinging dashboards. He figured he had it knocked. He got the best looking girl in his high school pregnant, got married and got this job. The way he figured it he only had 29 more years of this and he could retire at 49. All of this said with a big stupid grin. That place is gone as is anything of lasting value in Flint. This book is how it was. No shit..
I grew up in Flint until I graduated high school and left to avoid the fate of becoming a character in this book. Actually I was an eighty nine day temp at Fisher Body when there was such a thing. The money was great for a summer job but there was no way I could ever commit to it for real. Ben spells it out here. It sucks to have any creativity in your resume and do this time. I always think back to this kid who worked across from me on the endless line of swinging dashboards. He figured he had it knocked. He got the best looking girl in his high school pregnant, got married and got this job. The way he figured it he only had 29 more years of this and he could retire at 49. All of this said with a big stupid grin. That place is gone as is anything of lasting value in Flint. This book is how it was. No shit..
December 3, 2021
I really enjoyed the book. I probably wouldn’t read it if I knew that he was friends with that blob Michael Moore, who is abhorrent, but nonetheless the book had some fest stories and insight on what it was like to work in a factory in the 70’s and 80’s. Being from Peoria, I can definitely relate as Caterpillar, or “Big Yellow” as it’s affectionately referred to was and still is the biggest draw to the area besides hospitals. Not like it was before, but still s as major powerhouse that employed thousands and countless other subcontractors. Everyone with the exception of hospitals in some fashion does business with caterpillar.
January 17, 2011
I had to read this for my labor studies course. I really really enjoyed reading this. Hamper's account of his days on the GM assembly line were written in such a way that it grasped the readers' attention without ever boring them. He was funny, honest, and down to Earth. While also being a very interesting glimpse at one man's experiences at GM, it also outlines the changing economy of the United States that has led to companies moving their manufacturing plants overseas and the loss of good-paying jobs. I recommend to this anybody!
February 26, 2015
If you've ever worked on an automotive assembly line in the Detroit / Cleveland area, this is like going back in time to about the mid-1980's, when you could still get away with getting hammered without getting fired. The antics on the line, the noise, the boredom, the attitudes, the future prospects - it's all here. I was 19 again while reading this very accurate account of what it's like to be the one who thinks you'd never end up there (on the line), going there anyway because the money is just way too good, and being petrified that's as much as you'll ever do.
February 14, 2016
this guy is a super unlikeable character, and i can't imagine how annoying he must have been to work with. however, his observations can be pretty sharp and funny and this book is a real page-turner. occasionally, he will come up with a great one-liner ("when they heard of the layoffs coming, the whole factory turned into one giant tremble-fest"). and i laughed aloud when he told the television reporter who wanted to film him on the assembly line that he was "more likely to get private footage of the pope taking a dump." ha!
October 3, 2021
A remarkable piece of worker writing and storytelling. In between the stories of working the GM assembly line, drinking, sex, drugs and rock and roll, this book not only manages to entertain, but it also reveals with great clarity the grim reality of work itself. In these pages, Hamper presents the human consequences of work, particularly that of the Fordist factory; that it quickly numbs you, drives you insane, or kills you. The final chapters of the book are particularly moving in this sense - thank you Ben for writing with such detail, flair and honesty.
November 1, 2016
Exceptionally well-written in an engaging, unusual, and hard-hitting style. Humorously told story about how assembly-line workers creatively manage the day-to-day ennui of mind-numbing work. Dickensian in that people are treated as cogs in the automotive machinery, poorly managed with the almighty dollar as the only incentive. Highly recommended!
June 10, 2008
I enjoyed this righteous class-warfare memoir (by an old colleague of Michael Moore) up until the end, where -- if memory serves -- he is diagnosed with a "mental illness" and saves himself with Prozac. Total cop-out.
February 2, 2016
Well-written, every college grad going into business, and consulting in particular, should read this book twice, maybe three times.
The world is a lesser place without the gifts of Ben Hamper.
The world is a lesser place without the gifts of Ben Hamper.
August 11, 2017
The most engaging and entertaining vocational memoir I've read since Kitchen Confidential. I blew through it in less than 24 hours because I just couldn't seem to put it down.
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