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Authority: Essays on Being Right by the Pulitzer Prize Winner
'A galaxy-brain-level thinker' Torrey Peters
'One of the most charismatic and original thinkers at work today' Brandon Taylor
'Thrilling... Authority reminds us we haven't yet felt all there is to feel' Kaveh Akbar
Since her canonical 2017 essay 'On Liking Women', the Pulitzer Prize–winning critic Andrea Long Chu has established herself as a public intellectual straight out of the 1960s. With devastating wit and polemical clarity, she defies the imperative to leave politics out of art, instead modeling how the left might brave the culture wars without throwing in with the cynics and doomsayers.
Authority brings together Chu’s critical work across a wide range of media—novels, television, theater, video games—as well as an acclaimed tetralogy of literary essays first published in n+1. As a critic, Chu places The Phantom of the Opera within a centuries-old conflict between music and drama; questions the enduring habit of reading Octavia Butler’s science fiction as a parable of slavery; teases out the ideology behind Hillary Clinton’s (fictional) sex life; and charges fellow critics like Maggie Nelson and Zadie Smith with a complacent humanism.
The unifying theme of the book is authority and taste in literature, art, culture and how do we decide what's good, and how do we convince others that our judgement is correct?
'One of the most charismatic and original thinkers at work today' Brandon Taylor
'Thrilling... Authority reminds us we haven't yet felt all there is to feel' Kaveh Akbar
Since her canonical 2017 essay 'On Liking Women', the Pulitzer Prize–winning critic Andrea Long Chu has established herself as a public intellectual straight out of the 1960s. With devastating wit and polemical clarity, she defies the imperative to leave politics out of art, instead modeling how the left might brave the culture wars without throwing in with the cynics and doomsayers.
Authority brings together Chu’s critical work across a wide range of media—novels, television, theater, video games—as well as an acclaimed tetralogy of literary essays first published in n+1. As a critic, Chu places The Phantom of the Opera within a centuries-old conflict between music and drama; questions the enduring habit of reading Octavia Butler’s science fiction as a parable of slavery; teases out the ideology behind Hillary Clinton’s (fictional) sex life; and charges fellow critics like Maggie Nelson and Zadie Smith with a complacent humanism.
The unifying theme of the book is authority and taste in literature, art, culture and how do we decide what's good, and how do we convince others that our judgement is correct?
267 pages, Kindle Edition
First published April 8, 2025
About the author
Andrea Long Chu
9 books229 followersAndrea Long Chu is a writer, critic, academic living in Brooklyn. Her first book, published by Verso, is Females. As an essayist, her work has appeared in n+1, Boston Review, The New York Times, New York, New York Review of Books, Artforum, Bookforum, Jewish Currents, Chronicle of Higher Education, Affidavit, 4Columns, differences, Women and Performance, TSQ, and Journal of Speculative Philosophy. She is currently a doctoral student at New York University.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 284 reviews
July 20, 2025
call me biased, but i love a mean book review.
absolutely nobody does criticism like andrea long chu. even when i disagree with her, even when she is taking on books or shows or movies i adore, i relish reading her devastatingly sharp and witty observations.
i'd read a few of these reviews before, and being able to add the reread of those and the discovery of others towards my reading challenge was a treat.
i think her essays lack the same brilliance, not following the same tight pathway with the same cleverness, but...the criticism more than made up for that.
bottom line: like getting reading challenge credit for reading viral articles.
(thanks to the publisher for the e-arc)
absolutely nobody does criticism like andrea long chu. even when i disagree with her, even when she is taking on books or shows or movies i adore, i relish reading her devastatingly sharp and witty observations.
i'd read a few of these reviews before, and being able to add the reread of those and the discovery of others towards my reading challenge was a treat.
i think her essays lack the same brilliance, not following the same tight pathway with the same cleverness, but...the criticism more than made up for that.
bottom line: like getting reading challenge credit for reading viral articles.
(thanks to the publisher for the e-arc)
May 2, 2025
3.5 stars
Some brilliant insights in this essay collection. I appreciated that Andrea Long Chu was willing to name names and offer, for the most part, substantial critiques of other writers’ work. While I found myself in general political and ideological alignment with Chu, some of her takes that I most resonated with included: 1) her critique of Rodham by Curis Sittenfeld and the limitations of representation politics (e.g., just because a woman or person of color is in power doesn’t necessarily mean women or people of color tangibly benefit), 2) her analysis of Ottessa Moshfegh’s frustratingly apolitical writing and positionality, and 3) her critique of Zadie Smith, who I harbor a lot of negative feelings toward after her horrible New Yorker essay where she minimized the Zionist genocide of Palestine (for more info on Smith’s absolute mess of an essay, see this take by Stacy Lee Kong).
My issue with this collection was I felt that Chu would often use a ton of words to describe an argument instead of simply just saying the argument. She’s clearly intellectually rigorous, I also wished she would be more direct in her writing. To me this essay collection contained moments of important critique amidst a lot of fluffy, abstract prose.
Also, while I did appreciate Chu’s critique of Celeste Ng and Jay Caspian Kang – I agree with her take that both these writers are oddly obsessed with mixed-race, specifically Asian/white characters – I wanted more of a straightforward counterargument to Ng and Kang’s perspectives. I think Chu alludes to this, but I’ll say it outright: there are a lot of Asian Americans who don’t care about being white or looking white or dating white people, and we should focus more on those stories instead of centering narratives in which Asian Americans are perpetually in proximity to white people. Anyway, for more on this you can check out my review of Kang’s The Loneliest Americans and I’d recommend the books Yolk by Mary Choi, Sea Change by Gina Chung, and Disorientation by Elaine Hsieh Chou.
Some brilliant insights in this essay collection. I appreciated that Andrea Long Chu was willing to name names and offer, for the most part, substantial critiques of other writers’ work. While I found myself in general political and ideological alignment with Chu, some of her takes that I most resonated with included: 1) her critique of Rodham by Curis Sittenfeld and the limitations of representation politics (e.g., just because a woman or person of color is in power doesn’t necessarily mean women or people of color tangibly benefit), 2) her analysis of Ottessa Moshfegh’s frustratingly apolitical writing and positionality, and 3) her critique of Zadie Smith, who I harbor a lot of negative feelings toward after her horrible New Yorker essay where she minimized the Zionist genocide of Palestine (for more info on Smith’s absolute mess of an essay, see this take by Stacy Lee Kong).
My issue with this collection was I felt that Chu would often use a ton of words to describe an argument instead of simply just saying the argument. She’s clearly intellectually rigorous, I also wished she would be more direct in her writing. To me this essay collection contained moments of important critique amidst a lot of fluffy, abstract prose.
Also, while I did appreciate Chu’s critique of Celeste Ng and Jay Caspian Kang – I agree with her take that both these writers are oddly obsessed with mixed-race, specifically Asian/white characters – I wanted more of a straightforward counterargument to Ng and Kang’s perspectives. I think Chu alludes to this, but I’ll say it outright: there are a lot of Asian Americans who don’t care about being white or looking white or dating white people, and we should focus more on those stories instead of centering narratives in which Asian Americans are perpetually in proximity to white people. Anyway, for more on this you can check out my review of Kang’s The Loneliest Americans and I’d recommend the books Yolk by Mary Choi, Sea Change by Gina Chung, and Disorientation by Elaine Hsieh Chou.
June 25, 2025
It’s tempting to slate a book of essays because you don’t align with all of the author’s viewpoints. But what made this book rate a four star is it was mostly provocative, and engaging and thoughtful.
Chu takes us through her perspectives on feminism, trans women, and popular culture, all of which are connected to the idea of authority.
The critic as authority on popular culture, the history of authority in literary criticism and feminism and Asian culture, and the approach to authority in the films and books she reviews.
She is witty and sardonic at times (upon a friend becoming disgruntled at a dinner party conversation, she notes “Dinner, it seems, is the greatest casualty of liberal fascism”.)
She expertly traces the idea of authority and taste in literary criticism from Roman days to Kant, Trilling, Wilde and Sontag.
There were essays that meandered and didn’t have much punch but overall I didn’t so much enjoy reading this as I was impressed by reading this.
Chu takes us through her perspectives on feminism, trans women, and popular culture, all of which are connected to the idea of authority.
The critic as authority on popular culture, the history of authority in literary criticism and feminism and Asian culture, and the approach to authority in the films and books she reviews.
She is witty and sardonic at times (upon a friend becoming disgruntled at a dinner party conversation, she notes “Dinner, it seems, is the greatest casualty of liberal fascism”.)
She expertly traces the idea of authority and taste in literary criticism from Roman days to Kant, Trilling, Wilde and Sontag.
There were essays that meandered and didn’t have much punch but overall I didn’t so much enjoy reading this as I was impressed by reading this.
June 13, 2025
This was so hit or miss for me. The takedowns are so so so good. Chu really knows how to trash a piece of art and artist. The newer pieces are fine, the title piece is weaker than the introduction. I got bored with some of the essays to the point of DNFing them. I also found myself wondering what it would be like to read a celebratory piece from Chu. I mean the woman can write, she is so funny and snarky and it comes through beautifully. The essays on trans identity and experience are also very very very good. Again, a real mixed bag for me.
October 5, 2025
the good lord shows everyone their life mission in their own time. for some people, it's self-improvement. for others, it's activism. and for me, it's getting my hands on a copy of this fucking book so help me god
May 17, 2026
i think andrea long chu shines best when she’s doing scathing takedowns and then seems to really lose her voice/pacing/style when she starts delving into denser theory and historical analysis (the newer pieces in this did not wow me)
August 5, 2024
ARC for review. To be published April 8, 2025.
A collection of previously published essays plus two new ones from this Pulitzer Prize winning essayist. Chu offers her opinions and analysis of the TV show “Yellowjackets,” (which I love) “Phantom of the Opera,” “The Last of Us,” (which, apparently, I am the last to know began life as a video game) the writer Ottessa Moshfegh, Joey Soloway, creator of “Transparent,” mixed Asian novels and more.
On author Hana Yanagihara, “If A LITTLE LIFE was opera it was not “La Boheme, it was “Rent.” I disagree…but funny!
On the #MeToo movement, “The thing is, it’s all of them. It’s every single last one of them. Not just the famous ones. Never let anyone persuade you otherwise….”
This…interesting statement that is worthy of loads of discussion, “It is undoubtedly true that race in America is created and maintained through racist violence.”
The collection is bookended by the two new essays, both of which deal with criticism itself, so there’s a fair amount of navel-gazing here. The first, “”Criticism is a Crisis” (I think. I can barely read my own bad handwriting) is long and, honestly, a bit yawn-inducing. It’s a huge, long history lesson nobody asked for. Critics will like it as it parses what they do and why they are superior to mere reviewers. “[W]e expect the good critic to leave his own values at the door but not his nose for valuing.”
I don’t know, after reading it, critics sound exhausting to me. Certainly they have their place, but if this essay is what being a critic is, then, well, I’m going to want to have that proverbial beer with a plain old reviewer why we talk about which “Seinfeld” episodes are the best. We have favorite Shakespeare plays, but they aren’t as fun to discuss.
The final essay in the book and the second new work is “Authority.” I’ll sum it up with saying that people look to true critics (versus reviewers) not for opinions but judgment. Agree and disagree on this, and I can point to an essay in this very book as an example. I have read and loved two of Hana Yanagihara’s books. I think it’s fair to say that whatever definition one uses of the term “literary fiction” both meet it and both of them could be and likely are (or will be) taught in university classes (I realize that alone doesn't give them merit, but what does?). Anyway, Chu is not impressed. I very much enjoyed reading her views on books I know fairly well even though they differ from mine. I’m not looking for her judgment to take the place of mine or reinforce my own. I still feel exactly the same.
So, to sum up, I thought the first essay would never end, but I quite enjoyed everything else. I don’t know if I’ve read Chu in the past; if I have I didn’t connect the name with what I was reading. I’ll look for her in the future.
A collection of previously published essays plus two new ones from this Pulitzer Prize winning essayist. Chu offers her opinions and analysis of the TV show “Yellowjackets,” (which I love) “Phantom of the Opera,” “The Last of Us,” (which, apparently, I am the last to know began life as a video game) the writer Ottessa Moshfegh, Joey Soloway, creator of “Transparent,” mixed Asian novels and more.
On author Hana Yanagihara, “If A LITTLE LIFE was opera it was not “La Boheme, it was “Rent.” I disagree…but funny!
On the #MeToo movement, “The thing is, it’s all of them. It’s every single last one of them. Not just the famous ones. Never let anyone persuade you otherwise….”
This…interesting statement that is worthy of loads of discussion, “It is undoubtedly true that race in America is created and maintained through racist violence.”
The collection is bookended by the two new essays, both of which deal with criticism itself, so there’s a fair amount of navel-gazing here. The first, “”Criticism is a Crisis” (I think. I can barely read my own bad handwriting) is long and, honestly, a bit yawn-inducing. It’s a huge, long history lesson nobody asked for. Critics will like it as it parses what they do and why they are superior to mere reviewers. “[W]e expect the good critic to leave his own values at the door but not his nose for valuing.”
I don’t know, after reading it, critics sound exhausting to me. Certainly they have their place, but if this essay is what being a critic is, then, well, I’m going to want to have that proverbial beer with a plain old reviewer why we talk about which “Seinfeld” episodes are the best. We have favorite Shakespeare plays, but they aren’t as fun to discuss.
The final essay in the book and the second new work is “Authority.” I’ll sum it up with saying that people look to true critics (versus reviewers) not for opinions but judgment. Agree and disagree on this, and I can point to an essay in this very book as an example. I have read and loved two of Hana Yanagihara’s books. I think it’s fair to say that whatever definition one uses of the term “literary fiction” both meet it and both of them could be and likely are (or will be) taught in university classes (I realize that alone doesn't give them merit, but what does?). Anyway, Chu is not impressed. I very much enjoyed reading her views on books I know fairly well even though they differ from mine. I’m not looking for her judgment to take the place of mine or reinforce my own. I still feel exactly the same.
So, to sum up, I thought the first essay would never end, but I quite enjoyed everything else. I don’t know if I’ve read Chu in the past; if I have I didn’t connect the name with what I was reading. I’ll look for her in the future.
Did Not Finish
September 2, 2025This was truly some of the most insufferable writing I've ever had to slog through... not for me. RIP to the audiobook credit I used on her.
August 30, 2025
DNF @ ~30%
Coming out of the gate to say I am a big Andrea Long Chu fan! She's loved for her negative reviews but her other work here is just as good. I cannot find the source but I remember hearing someone accurately describe her writing as "identifying the source of the stench in the room". The standout of what I read here is by far her Phantom essay, simultaneously cutting and effusive. Simply: A joy to read.
I do wish that this was more than a collection of previously-published essays + 2 new. Many of these pieces are easy to track down online and have been in circulation for long enough that a collection this early in her career (which I believe is long and just getting started) doesn't feel quite warranted. The first of her newer essays, on the "crisis of criticism," is fine, but holds the same minor issue I have with a lot of her work, which is that she more often gestures at an idea than really hits it home. That being said, I appreciate how she invites me to think about her arguments, even if I don't always agree with them. The reason I DNFed this is because I struggle to sit down and read one essay after another, not as any reflection of their quality.
Please note that I work for Macmillan and opinions are my own. I am not involved in book production.
Coming out of the gate to say I am a big Andrea Long Chu fan! She's loved for her negative reviews but her other work here is just as good. I cannot find the source but I remember hearing someone accurately describe her writing as "identifying the source of the stench in the room". The standout of what I read here is by far her Phantom essay, simultaneously cutting and effusive. Simply: A joy to read.
I do wish that this was more than a collection of previously-published essays + 2 new. Many of these pieces are easy to track down online and have been in circulation for long enough that a collection this early in her career (which I believe is long and just getting started) doesn't feel quite warranted. The first of her newer essays, on the "crisis of criticism," is fine, but holds the same minor issue I have with a lot of her work, which is that she more often gestures at an idea than really hits it home. That being said, I appreciate how she invites me to think about her arguments, even if I don't always agree with them. The reason I DNFed this is because I struggle to sit down and read one essay after another, not as any reflection of their quality.
Please note that I work for Macmillan and opinions are my own. I am not involved in book production.
March 23, 2025
Major thanks to NetGalley and FSG for providing an ARC of this book in exchange for my honest thoughts:
"𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺, 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭; 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴, 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘉𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘛𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴."
The kind of book to not only make you seem smarter, but actually try to be smarter to enrich critical thinking. I miss strong opinions. I miss the French. Heated conversations. Not debates. Just talks with passion.
"𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘧𝘧 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮."
New work. Old work. Revisitations. Refinement. Opinions change, fleshed out more, built upon, and it’s seeing the progression and change that I think informs the work of a great critic. Because we are led to freedom. Freedom from the entrapments of buzz words and blanket words.
"𝘕𝘰𝘵, 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘺, '𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵' 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘵—𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮; 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺."
Chu’s work master’s the ability to take stance and own it. The research is there. The bite too. It’s in the precision that a rhetoric is built, strong-willed and certain o provide a clarity to art.
“𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺: 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵, 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘳."
Tackling people on like Bret Easton Ellis, Maggie Nelson, Hanya Yanagihara, and even Otessa Moshfegh, I am led to fatigue now with brainless one-liners on a site for reviews. I am bothered by the lack of time spent on leaving others with food for thought.
"𝘞𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥; 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘭𝘨𝘰. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦, 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺: 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵."
As readers, we should do better. And as people we should do better. And I mean this mostly for America. Look now. Now, at the state of things. A crumbling republic with a great uncertainty that will drown out not only great thinkers, but great thinking. Critical thinking. All thinking.
"𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺, 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭; 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴, 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘉𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘛𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴."
The kind of book to not only make you seem smarter, but actually try to be smarter to enrich critical thinking. I miss strong opinions. I miss the French. Heated conversations. Not debates. Just talks with passion.
"𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘧𝘧 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮."
New work. Old work. Revisitations. Refinement. Opinions change, fleshed out more, built upon, and it’s seeing the progression and change that I think informs the work of a great critic. Because we are led to freedom. Freedom from the entrapments of buzz words and blanket words.
"𝘕𝘰𝘵, 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘺, '𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵' 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘵—𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮; 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺."
Chu’s work master’s the ability to take stance and own it. The research is there. The bite too. It’s in the precision that a rhetoric is built, strong-willed and certain o provide a clarity to art.
“𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺: 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵, 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘳."
Tackling people on like Bret Easton Ellis, Maggie Nelson, Hanya Yanagihara, and even Otessa Moshfegh, I am led to fatigue now with brainless one-liners on a site for reviews. I am bothered by the lack of time spent on leaving others with food for thought.
"𝘞𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥; 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘭𝘨𝘰. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦, 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺: 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵."
As readers, we should do better. And as people we should do better. And I mean this mostly for America. Look now. Now, at the state of things. A crumbling republic with a great uncertainty that will drown out not only great thinkers, but great thinking. Critical thinking. All thinking.
March 31, 2025
Thank you fsgbooks for the arc
There’s something to be said about how I eat up Chu’s writing while continuing to read and love my problematic authors . Go ahead and take down Hanya, Ottessa, and BEE (lord knows he deserves it), but I’ll still be reading them in peace, thanks. No matter what I’m reading, I’m looking for great writing and Chu is at the top of her game.
In a world where everyone feels the need to explain ad nauseam that all art is subjective and add so many caveats to their thoughts or experience, I look for writing that goes beyond that. It’s an understatement to say Chu doesn’t mind ruffling some feathers, just look through her reviews and count up how many pans there are, but when she does like something I take notice (even if said book has an embarrassingly low rating on GR).
I’m not looking for Chu, or any critic, to tell me what to think (is this me taking away their authority?) - I already know what I love and hate. While I can have my mind changed, it doesn’t come from someone telling me ‘NO this is GOOD’ or ‘you're WRONG’. Show me HOW you think, give me something to follow, dig deep, make me not stop thinking about the artwork. Of course I’m being a total hypocrite, when a critic agrees with me I give a little knowing nod, maybe a little HAH is let out.
What I’m trying to get at is that Chu is very analytical and incisive, while also being funny- sometimes dryly, sometimes darkly. That's what makes her essays an event. If you’ve never read her, get this! In a collection of 24 essays, including two new ones about the state and history of criticism itself. I don’t think I skipped any (that’s a lie, I saw the words Phantom of the Opera and moved on), my favorite ones being about gender or depression (China brain shows the aesthetic possibilities of the essay). It doesn’t matter that I’ll never watch Yellowjackets or read Celeste Ng’s latest, I just want to see how Chu’s mind works and how she will cut through the bull.
I wish we lived in a world where more critics had the support to really dive in and research a long form essay, but considering how reviews tank I’ll be waiting a while for the great essay comeback.
There’s something to be said about how I eat up Chu’s writing while continuing to read and love my problematic authors . Go ahead and take down Hanya, Ottessa, and BEE (lord knows he deserves it), but I’ll still be reading them in peace, thanks. No matter what I’m reading, I’m looking for great writing and Chu is at the top of her game.
In a world where everyone feels the need to explain ad nauseam that all art is subjective and add so many caveats to their thoughts or experience, I look for writing that goes beyond that. It’s an understatement to say Chu doesn’t mind ruffling some feathers, just look through her reviews and count up how many pans there are, but when she does like something I take notice (even if said book has an embarrassingly low rating on GR).
I’m not looking for Chu, or any critic, to tell me what to think (is this me taking away their authority?) - I already know what I love and hate. While I can have my mind changed, it doesn’t come from someone telling me ‘NO this is GOOD’ or ‘you're WRONG’. Show me HOW you think, give me something to follow, dig deep, make me not stop thinking about the artwork. Of course I’m being a total hypocrite, when a critic agrees with me I give a little knowing nod, maybe a little HAH is let out.
What I’m trying to get at is that Chu is very analytical and incisive, while also being funny- sometimes dryly, sometimes darkly. That's what makes her essays an event. If you’ve never read her, get this! In a collection of 24 essays, including two new ones about the state and history of criticism itself. I don’t think I skipped any (that’s a lie, I saw the words Phantom of the Opera and moved on), my favorite ones being about gender or depression (China brain shows the aesthetic possibilities of the essay). It doesn’t matter that I’ll never watch Yellowjackets or read Celeste Ng’s latest, I just want to see how Chu’s mind works and how she will cut through the bull.
I wish we lived in a world where more critics had the support to really dive in and research a long form essay, but considering how reviews tank I’ll be waiting a while for the great essay comeback.
May 30, 2025
Chu is too obsessed with her own style to write consistently good criticism. She also has a very clear cut form that, while effective in short bursts, seems unimaginative when read in sequence (the neutral introduction, the description of the art, the teasing first ad hominem strikes, some mush that's completely lost in her Tweet-like topic sentences, more aggressive ad hominem usage, and then a final paragraph where she says some variation of "To put it simply" or "My point is" where she writes something very beautiful and insightful that I'll probably write down somewhere.)
I enjoyed this, kind of, but I don't think the book was very focused--and it's not for a lack for talent. It's for a superabundance of ego.
(If you liked the tone of this review you'd probably enjoy the book!)
I enjoyed this, kind of, but I don't think the book was very focused--and it's not for a lack for talent. It's for a superabundance of ego.
(If you liked the tone of this review you'd probably enjoy the book!)
May 16, 2025
I consider myself to be of modest intelligence. I'm not a genius, but I'm not uneducated. I try to speak, read and write continuously in a way that hopefully, challenges myself intellectually. I come from a family with poor education values, so my intelligence level, and being "smart enough" has been one of my lifelong insecurities.
I say all of this to segue into my thoughts about Andrea Long Chu's phenomenal essays book, Authority. Chu is a smarty pants. There are no two ways about it. She is sharp-tongued, cleverly witty, and concise with word choices. I thought the following while reading this book - her intelligence is astounding. Astounding! I am envious of her intelligence level. There, I said it! I know a great amount of research went into some of the essays for this book - (Chu even credits her researcher at the end) but to be able to take all of that raw material, weave it together, look at it critically, and then write cohesively on it? Again, astounding.
Chu takes us through her last 7 years or so of various essays she has written on many facets of literature, theatre, television, mental health, and gender issues. She even takes several pokes at the lowly book reviewer. She turns her keen eye on television shows such as The Last of Us, Yellow Jackets, and Yellowstone, and then turns around and criticizes the Phantom of the Opera. We hear her candid thoughts on her gender reassignment surgery, and her forays into TMS therapy prior to her bipolar II diagnosis. Her essay from n+1, "On Liking Women", is republished here in its entirety.
She looks at many authors and their works: Hanya Yanagihara, Bret Easton Ellis, Curtis Sittenfeld, Ottessa Moshfegh, Celeste Ng, Zadie Smith and Octavia Butler. My favorites were the essays on Hanya Yanagihara (she DOES put a lot of gay protagonists in her books) and Ottessa Moshfegh - I've only read My Year of Rest and Relaxation by her thus far, (which I thoroughly enjoyed) but now I am very intrigued and will be seeking out more of her work.
In her titular series of essays, Authority, she dives very deep into the history of literary criticism. In actuality, this was my least favorite of the entire collection. I recognize the importance of it, but it was rather dull and droned on maybe a bit excessively for my tastes.
I was gifted the audiobook version of this book from NetGalley and FSG (MacMillan Audio) - and I really enjoyed this version - it was read by Ms. Chu herself, and I think it added another level to the book that you might not achieve with the print version. You could hear in her voice those essays which she was most passionate about; the tonal inflections, the way she became slightly more animated with certain subjects.
I was unable to save many quotes since this was an audiobook, but I am sure like many other of my all time favorite books, I will eventually purchase a print copy and re-read. Highlighting can happen on the second go-around. The below quote did stand out to me, in both a comical and in an existentialism sort of way :
"All bodily pain begins with shock at the audacity of physical trespass. A kind of astonishment, at the frankly unbelievable insinuation that one is not, in fact, the center of the universe."
This was from her essay on her gender surgery, which was informative on the process itself. What a human being puts themselves through, just to feel something more like who they were meant to be. Much respect to the author.
Read this book. It will make you think. Really hard. And we all need more of that.
I say all of this to segue into my thoughts about Andrea Long Chu's phenomenal essays book, Authority. Chu is a smarty pants. There are no two ways about it. She is sharp-tongued, cleverly witty, and concise with word choices. I thought the following while reading this book - her intelligence is astounding. Astounding! I am envious of her intelligence level. There, I said it! I know a great amount of research went into some of the essays for this book - (Chu even credits her researcher at the end) but to be able to take all of that raw material, weave it together, look at it critically, and then write cohesively on it? Again, astounding.
Chu takes us through her last 7 years or so of various essays she has written on many facets of literature, theatre, television, mental health, and gender issues. She even takes several pokes at the lowly book reviewer. She turns her keen eye on television shows such as The Last of Us, Yellow Jackets, and Yellowstone, and then turns around and criticizes the Phantom of the Opera. We hear her candid thoughts on her gender reassignment surgery, and her forays into TMS therapy prior to her bipolar II diagnosis. Her essay from n+1, "On Liking Women", is republished here in its entirety.
She looks at many authors and their works: Hanya Yanagihara, Bret Easton Ellis, Curtis Sittenfeld, Ottessa Moshfegh, Celeste Ng, Zadie Smith and Octavia Butler. My favorites were the essays on Hanya Yanagihara (she DOES put a lot of gay protagonists in her books) and Ottessa Moshfegh - I've only read My Year of Rest and Relaxation by her thus far, (which I thoroughly enjoyed) but now I am very intrigued and will be seeking out more of her work.
In her titular series of essays, Authority, she dives very deep into the history of literary criticism. In actuality, this was my least favorite of the entire collection. I recognize the importance of it, but it was rather dull and droned on maybe a bit excessively for my tastes.
I was gifted the audiobook version of this book from NetGalley and FSG (MacMillan Audio) - and I really enjoyed this version - it was read by Ms. Chu herself, and I think it added another level to the book that you might not achieve with the print version. You could hear in her voice those essays which she was most passionate about; the tonal inflections, the way she became slightly more animated with certain subjects.
I was unable to save many quotes since this was an audiobook, but I am sure like many other of my all time favorite books, I will eventually purchase a print copy and re-read. Highlighting can happen on the second go-around. The below quote did stand out to me, in both a comical and in an existentialism sort of way :
"All bodily pain begins with shock at the audacity of physical trespass. A kind of astonishment, at the frankly unbelievable insinuation that one is not, in fact, the center of the universe."
This was from her essay on her gender surgery, which was informative on the process itself. What a human being puts themselves through, just to feel something more like who they were meant to be. Much respect to the author.
Read this book. It will make you think. Really hard. And we all need more of that.
August 30, 2025
I first came across Andrea Long Chu's criticism via a devastating takedown of Hanya Yanagihara's writing in New York magazine and was intrigued enough to pick up this essay collection. The majority of the media reviewed in here is media I have not consumed (TV shows Yellowjackets, Yellowstone, The Last of US, On Freedom by Maggie Nelson, White by Bret Easton Ellis, or any novel by Ottessa Moshfegh, Zadie Smith, or Tao Lin) but I still read through this whole collection with rapt interest. I especially appreciated the pieces that revealed more of the author's own biography ("On Liking Women", on Valerie Solana's SCUM Manifesto and transphobia woven through the history of feminism; "Pink" on the pink pussy hat movement and vaginoplasty; and "China Brain" on transcranial magnetic stimulation, depression, and bipolar disorder). But the author's character and opinions run through every single piece in this collection, including the two new essays on the history of and purpose of literary criticism itself. For as much as I read, this isn't a subject I'm well versed on. I'll definitely be seeking out more Andrea Long Chu writing in the future!
Read
May 3, 2026This book challenged me—a lot.
I should say that I am really drawn to most of the ideas that Andrea Long Chu takes up in this book. Her writing on race and gender really resonated; I was particularly struck by her essay on novels by wasian writers and what they can teach us about race in contemporary America. As a “south wasian” myself, I have not encountered a lot of good literary criticism pertaining to mixed-race identity, and Chu’s piece made me think a lot. Also — the essay “On Liking Women” truly is as good as they say.
I should also say that Chu is a formidable writer, to the point where I don’t really believe her when she says that a critic is more of a craftsman than an artist. Maybe this is my own failure of imagination, but I can’t fathom the essays in this book not regarding themselves as art. I think they’re entirely deserving of that word’s self-seriousness, and they absolutely contain its stylistic indulgence.
Anyway, this is all to say that I loved the book, and its ideas broadly resonated with me. Still, Authority’s one big idea—its idea about the very point of literary criticism—was the one I had the hardest time with.
I often find myself attracted to the idea that form, aesthetics, the careful examination of themes should all be valued above reading a singular politic. I am also often convinced by the argument that trying to read the nuances and tensions of a text is more interesting than trying to read the politics of its author, especially when the politics of the author appear blandly and self-evidently bad.
In positioning herself in opposition to these ideas, Andrea Long Chu defends and indeed sometimes practices a mode of literary criticism that I’ve often assumed to be less rigorous. And she practices it, well, extremely rigorously. I am the fool. She demonstrates that there is intellectual, aesthetic, and, yes, political value to excavating and criticizing a writer’s politic from their body of work (and their statements in the public record). She has become known for these “takedowns,” and for good reason: they are excellent.
In truth, I haven’t really figured out the point of literature, or the point of writing about it. Chu believes that it can be—indeed, it must be—a political project, and that to deny this is to implicitly endorse a sort of milquetoast liberalism. She makes her point convincingly and has left me with much to consider.
(Edit: I forgot to add that I do have one major critique of her style in this book. I think she sometimes writes like she’s writing fiction—which is to say, she will write a really beautiful line that could be interpreted any number of ways. Sometimes this works really well, but sometimes that line is placed in the middle of a paragraph and is clearly meant to advance an argument—except, I’m not sure what argument she’s advancing.
Something I’m starting to learn in the world of magazine writing is that I always have to be more explicit than I think I do. My meaning is always going to be obvious to me because I live in my own head; no one else does. In the way of artistry vs craftsmanship, I think Chu could stand to sacrifice a little of that high artistic quality for some directness.)
I should say that I am really drawn to most of the ideas that Andrea Long Chu takes up in this book. Her writing on race and gender really resonated; I was particularly struck by her essay on novels by wasian writers and what they can teach us about race in contemporary America. As a “south wasian” myself, I have not encountered a lot of good literary criticism pertaining to mixed-race identity, and Chu’s piece made me think a lot. Also — the essay “On Liking Women” truly is as good as they say.
I should also say that Chu is a formidable writer, to the point where I don’t really believe her when she says that a critic is more of a craftsman than an artist. Maybe this is my own failure of imagination, but I can’t fathom the essays in this book not regarding themselves as art. I think they’re entirely deserving of that word’s self-seriousness, and they absolutely contain its stylistic indulgence.
Anyway, this is all to say that I loved the book, and its ideas broadly resonated with me. Still, Authority’s one big idea—its idea about the very point of literary criticism—was the one I had the hardest time with.
I often find myself attracted to the idea that form, aesthetics, the careful examination of themes should all be valued above reading a singular politic. I am also often convinced by the argument that trying to read the nuances and tensions of a text is more interesting than trying to read the politics of its author, especially when the politics of the author appear blandly and self-evidently bad.
In positioning herself in opposition to these ideas, Andrea Long Chu defends and indeed sometimes practices a mode of literary criticism that I’ve often assumed to be less rigorous. And she practices it, well, extremely rigorously. I am the fool. She demonstrates that there is intellectual, aesthetic, and, yes, political value to excavating and criticizing a writer’s politic from their body of work (and their statements in the public record). She has become known for these “takedowns,” and for good reason: they are excellent.
In truth, I haven’t really figured out the point of literature, or the point of writing about it. Chu believes that it can be—indeed, it must be—a political project, and that to deny this is to implicitly endorse a sort of milquetoast liberalism. She makes her point convincingly and has left me with much to consider.
(Edit: I forgot to add that I do have one major critique of her style in this book. I think she sometimes writes like she’s writing fiction—which is to say, she will write a really beautiful line that could be interpreted any number of ways. Sometimes this works really well, but sometimes that line is placed in the middle of a paragraph and is clearly meant to advance an argument—except, I’m not sure what argument she’s advancing.
Something I’m starting to learn in the world of magazine writing is that I always have to be more explicit than I think I do. My meaning is always going to be obvious to me because I live in my own head; no one else does. In the way of artistry vs craftsmanship, I think Chu could stand to sacrifice a little of that high artistic quality for some directness.)
April 4, 2026
Yep it rocked
June 18, 2025
Me, exercising my Goodreads-given authority to review Authority.
Andrea Long Chu can write. No argument there. The prose is sharp, confident, often audacious in the best way, like she’s perpetually smirking while dragging your favourite novelist through a hedge backwards. Authority wants to disrupt, to provoke, to show you that taste is political and criticism is a power move. And honestly? That premise rules.
But somewhere between the swagger and the wordplay, I found myself underwhelmed.
Let’s start with the structure—or, more accurately, the lack of it. The book is divided into parts, but the logic behind the sections is... elusive at best. The essays feel shuffled rather than curated, and while there's an entire essay smack in the middle that finally tries to define “authority,” it almost feels like a course correction rather than a centrepiece. As in: “Oh, right—we should probably talk about the title.”
Some essays bored me to the point of skimming, while others actually grabbed my attention. Chu’s style often outpaces her substance. She gestures toward critique-as-philosophy, but the philosophy doesn’t always show up to the party.
There’s also this strange evasiveness: for a book about authority—about who gets to speak, how, and why—it doesn’t do much excavation. Gender and power get mentioned, but not deeply unpacked. There’s a lot of posturing (again, sometimes brilliant), but not much reflection. It’s as if the book wants to dominate the conversation without having to slow down for an actual dialogue. The epilogue would have been a good opportunity to do so.
Still, respect where it’s due: it pokes, prods, and postures. But if criticism is about saying what’s good and what’s bad? I say: this one’s okay. Maybe two stars with style, maybe three if I squint. Either way: declined to endorse.
Andrea Long Chu can write. No argument there. The prose is sharp, confident, often audacious in the best way, like she’s perpetually smirking while dragging your favourite novelist through a hedge backwards. Authority wants to disrupt, to provoke, to show you that taste is political and criticism is a power move. And honestly? That premise rules.
But somewhere between the swagger and the wordplay, I found myself underwhelmed.
Let’s start with the structure—or, more accurately, the lack of it. The book is divided into parts, but the logic behind the sections is... elusive at best. The essays feel shuffled rather than curated, and while there's an entire essay smack in the middle that finally tries to define “authority,” it almost feels like a course correction rather than a centrepiece. As in: “Oh, right—we should probably talk about the title.”
Some essays bored me to the point of skimming, while others actually grabbed my attention. Chu’s style often outpaces her substance. She gestures toward critique-as-philosophy, but the philosophy doesn’t always show up to the party.
There’s also this strange evasiveness: for a book about authority—about who gets to speak, how, and why—it doesn’t do much excavation. Gender and power get mentioned, but not deeply unpacked. There’s a lot of posturing (again, sometimes brilliant), but not much reflection. It’s as if the book wants to dominate the conversation without having to slow down for an actual dialogue. The epilogue would have been a good opportunity to do so.
Still, respect where it’s due: it pokes, prods, and postures. But if criticism is about saying what’s good and what’s bad? I say: this one’s okay. Maybe two stars with style, maybe three if I squint. Either way: declined to endorse.
Read
September 28, 2025with any collection of criticism i've read, enjoyment of any particular piece is usually dependent upon your prior knowledge, interest, or experience with the thing being criticized (mostly, anyway) so i loved some of these essays and others not so much but that's okay! andrea is ruthless tho, if i ever wrote a book i would love it if she tore me to shreds like she does in 'hanya's boys' rip
Want to Read
January 10, 2025i love andrea long chu in a religious worshipping sort of way.
thank you to fsg for the advanced copy!
thank you to fsg for the advanced copy!
May 23, 2025
I have too much to say about this excellent book therefore I will say nothing. Andrea Long Chewwwwwwwed!
May 22, 2025
No one is safe, not even Hanya’s boys, as we know. Chu, an equal opportunist, doles out scrutiny to all of her pieces’ subjects.
She styles her unforgiving, sometimes unrelenting, assessments with her philosophical training in the academy, which peeks out with random biblical themes. She will not leave the beloved untouched because even sacred things are worth honestly engaging with again. Sometimes, she opts for a complete reassessment. This can be a freeing experience, not because I believe deconstruction as such should always win the argument, but because she sets a pattern for careful engagement with authority structures. In this sense, Authority is a worthwhile experience pedagogically. This is my more charitable reading of Chu’s methodology and use of critical authority.
A less charitable interpretation is being mean for the likes because human sociality dies in the comment section: the yo’ mama jokes fester still. I take her tactic as the former one, even though she doesn’t seek to be charitable (I know correlation isn’t causation, but it’s notable to me that I’m naturally drawn to write this review in the negative after putting down her book). She’s not interested in canceling culturally significant things (maybe except for Yellowstone—fine by me). A negative result of publishing polemical writing as one’s trademark technique is that others may follow suit. I hope critics (even a rando reviewer like me on GR) would have the sense to discern which tone to use and when. Chu’s recent writings in this compilation evolve from the older mince and mangle to something closer to macerate.
I appreciate Chu’s straightforward approach to evaluation, and the writing isn’t too funny, thankfully. There’s just enough salt on the choco chip cookie to intensify the experience; wit in the wrong critic’s hands causes hypertension. Not to belabor the point, but I needed a neutralizing cup of milk after re-reading her essay on Yanagihara. I could write my own essay (which would not be worth your salt) because I disagree with Chu on some points (e.g, “[B]y the fifteenth time, you wish he would aim”—is this sarcasm?). However, I concede the oddity of Hanya’s obsession with men-loving men characters for which Yanagihara does not publicly account.
Except for Part III (save the essay, Votes for Woman), Chu’s opinions stick with me. Her take on video games and TV shows mostly kept my attention, but I relished her work on ethnicity, race, gender, and politics. I would have preferred a focused volume on East Asian American culture and writing, queer experiences, and fiction writing at large, and in this order. I rate Authority 3.5 stars.
My thanks to Farrar, Straus and Giroux and NetGalley for an ARC.
She styles her unforgiving, sometimes unrelenting, assessments with her philosophical training in the academy, which peeks out with random biblical themes. She will not leave the beloved untouched because even sacred things are worth honestly engaging with again. Sometimes, she opts for a complete reassessment. This can be a freeing experience, not because I believe deconstruction as such should always win the argument, but because she sets a pattern for careful engagement with authority structures. In this sense, Authority is a worthwhile experience pedagogically. This is my more charitable reading of Chu’s methodology and use of critical authority.
A less charitable interpretation is being mean for the likes because human sociality dies in the comment section: the yo’ mama jokes fester still. I take her tactic as the former one, even though she doesn’t seek to be charitable (I know correlation isn’t causation, but it’s notable to me that I’m naturally drawn to write this review in the negative after putting down her book). She’s not interested in canceling culturally significant things (maybe except for Yellowstone—fine by me). A negative result of publishing polemical writing as one’s trademark technique is that others may follow suit. I hope critics (even a rando reviewer like me on GR) would have the sense to discern which tone to use and when. Chu’s recent writings in this compilation evolve from the older mince and mangle to something closer to macerate.
I appreciate Chu’s straightforward approach to evaluation, and the writing isn’t too funny, thankfully. There’s just enough salt on the choco chip cookie to intensify the experience; wit in the wrong critic’s hands causes hypertension. Not to belabor the point, but I needed a neutralizing cup of milk after re-reading her essay on Yanagihara. I could write my own essay (which would not be worth your salt) because I disagree with Chu on some points (e.g, “[B]y the fifteenth time, you wish he would aim”—is this sarcasm?). However, I concede the oddity of Hanya’s obsession with men-loving men characters for which Yanagihara does not publicly account.
Except for Part III (save the essay, Votes for Woman), Chu’s opinions stick with me. Her take on video games and TV shows mostly kept my attention, but I relished her work on ethnicity, race, gender, and politics. I would have preferred a focused volume on East Asian American culture and writing, queer experiences, and fiction writing at large, and in this order. I rate Authority 3.5 stars.
My thanks to Farrar, Straus and Giroux and NetGalley for an ARC.
March 28, 2025
Five stars for the ottessa essay even though I knew it was gonna be here
June 13, 2026
I’m conflicted. Andrea Long Chu, who won the 2023 Pulitzer Prize in Criticism, is best known for her acerbic takedowns and politically committed reviews. Her evisceration of Hanya Yanagihara, titled “Hanya’s Boys,” is one of the highlights here. Just look at this line about the protagonist of A Little Life:
It’s a brutal line, and one that could only come from Chu. Could you imagine James Wood writing anything remotely like that? Bro went to Eton.
So I’m all for a good takedown (Wood on White Teeth, anyone? Or how about Martin Amis on Hannibal?), but the criticism I enjoy usually pays attention to both form and content. The reviews of Zadie Smith, Maggie Nelson, and (to a lesser extent) Ottessa Moshfegh had me nearly grinding my teeth. Chu is at her least compelling when her disagreements with the ideas of a book develop out of her disagreements with an author’s views, and the Yanagihara review succeeds in spite of this. Also, the reviews of Joey Soloway and Bret Easton Ellis were abysmal. What, exactly, is the point of lobbing teddy bears to a pitbull? But I’m sure they did numbers on Twitter.
This highlights another issue with Chu’s views of criticism: an aloofness to her own role in the attention economy. Chu has said that of criticism that “It may be beautiful; it must be functional.” In interviews, she’s even said that her criticism should be as informative as a vacuum cleaner’s manual. But manuals are never known for their cruelty, and at most accidentally notable for their prose (I’m reminded of Lydia Davis excerpting the Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary entry on the Beaufort scale as an example of crystalline prose). It’s okay to write to be read. I think that when Chu describes how Mailer ended his essay “The Prisoner of Sex” with a “smug parenthetical,” and then cheekily ends her essay with one too, she knows this. At times, however, her stylish exuberance spills over into corniness. She describes Yellowstone as a “horse-eat-horse world” and her puns seem to want to plumb the depths of the English language’s store of idioms: of criticism, she says that “the lion’s share is a dog’s breakfast,” and we get two separate meditations on the phrase “train wreck.”
Along with the takedowns, this collection mercifully includes pieces that are more positive, or more ambivalent, and use that temperament to open up onto broader questions. The review on Yellowjackets extends and complicates Parul Sehgal’s piece on the trauma plot, the piece on Octavia Butler does not let reverence stymie interrogation, and her review of the Asian-American novel makes an interesting, and to me, persuasive claim: that the category of Asian-American is incoherent, and should be understood as a category of desire. This view flows out of Chu’s interventions on gender identity and questions of identity more broadly, which is often subsumed by desire. The reframing of questions of who one is to what one wants (or as I tend to prefer, what one hopes for) is attractive to me, as a pragmatist, as someone who’s always been sympathetic to anti-foundationalism, as someone who squirms at the thought of being considered racially Asian. I found the essays “On Liking Women,” “Pink,” and “China Brain” to be compelling for this reason.
So Art, Desire, and Politics would've been a more accurate title, as the two reflexive pieces about criticism feel tacked on and slight (one of them being described as a piece of “intellectual history” that forgoes footnotes). But there’s a tension here: desire and politics are strange bedfellows. How can individual desires be reconciled with the social world of politics? Along with the vacuum cleaner manual, Chu has also compared the persuasive act of criticism to flirting, and of seeing new books by authors she’s reviewed as seeing an ex from across the street. The contrast of these romantic metaphors with Chu's functional goals displays an inherent tension.
In the first essay of this collection, “Criticism in a Crisis,” Chu concludes by saying:
I paused when I read this line. It is the natural conclusion of the argument Chu lays out in the essay, and yet it is diametrically opposed to a view that I had been mulling over for some time: the idea of criticism as possession. When I read the best works of practical criticism, such as James Wood’s review of White Teeth or Virginia Woolf on Chaucer or Euripides, I’ll admit that despite the immense pleasure, I feel a loss. Through rhetoric, through a knowledge of craft and literary history, through quotation, so persuasive is their characterization of a book that I feel that they have reached into the literary commons and taken it for themselves. Woolf now possesses Chaucer in some way, and my view of him is now bound up with her. An understanding of criticism as possession accounts for why some people, including a friend I recently talked to, avoid reading literary criticism: after reading a critic’s account of a work, they cannot encounter the text on their own terms. It is there in the title of Judith Butler’s Winter Lecture, “Who Owns Kafka?”, and in the late Harold Bloom’s fulminations against “The School of Resentment,” who successfully laid claim to the literature he used to have Possessed by Memory. You can see it in the often-misinterpreted Juilliard lecture scene in Tár, where the domineering facade of Cate Blanchett’s character comes down in a vulnerable moment when she tries to share Bach’s Prelude in C with a student, and then lashes out when she feels that (in his own way) he has taken it for himself.
Private ownership is not exactly in vogue these days. In the essay on Yellowstone, Chu describes how “John Dutton III refuses to be called rich, and he barely regards his land as a financial asset. Ownership is a legal fiction: He wants to possess.” Decolonization may not be a metaphor, but criticism by possession is. And in moments of dispossession, we must remember that the literary commons can never truly be plundered, that its works remain there for the taking. The best essays in this collection dramatize and enact that possession. So choose desire over politics, and if you want it, take it.
“In truth, Jude is a terribly unlovable character, always lying and breaking promises, with the inner monologue of an incorrigible child. The first time he cuts himself, you are horrified; the fiftieth, you wish he would aim.”
It’s a brutal line, and one that could only come from Chu. Could you imagine James Wood writing anything remotely like that? Bro went to Eton.
So I’m all for a good takedown (Wood on White Teeth, anyone? Or how about Martin Amis on Hannibal?), but the criticism I enjoy usually pays attention to both form and content. The reviews of Zadie Smith, Maggie Nelson, and (to a lesser extent) Ottessa Moshfegh had me nearly grinding my teeth. Chu is at her least compelling when her disagreements with the ideas of a book develop out of her disagreements with an author’s views, and the Yanagihara review succeeds in spite of this. Also, the reviews of Joey Soloway and Bret Easton Ellis were abysmal. What, exactly, is the point of lobbing teddy bears to a pitbull? But I’m sure they did numbers on Twitter.
This highlights another issue with Chu’s views of criticism: an aloofness to her own role in the attention economy. Chu has said that of criticism that “It may be beautiful; it must be functional.” In interviews, she’s even said that her criticism should be as informative as a vacuum cleaner’s manual. But manuals are never known for their cruelty, and at most accidentally notable for their prose (I’m reminded of Lydia Davis excerpting the Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary entry on the Beaufort scale as an example of crystalline prose). It’s okay to write to be read. I think that when Chu describes how Mailer ended his essay “The Prisoner of Sex” with a “smug parenthetical,” and then cheekily ends her essay with one too, she knows this. At times, however, her stylish exuberance spills over into corniness. She describes Yellowstone as a “horse-eat-horse world” and her puns seem to want to plumb the depths of the English language’s store of idioms: of criticism, she says that “the lion’s share is a dog’s breakfast,” and we get two separate meditations on the phrase “train wreck.”
Along with the takedowns, this collection mercifully includes pieces that are more positive, or more ambivalent, and use that temperament to open up onto broader questions. The review on Yellowjackets extends and complicates Parul Sehgal’s piece on the trauma plot, the piece on Octavia Butler does not let reverence stymie interrogation, and her review of the Asian-American novel makes an interesting, and to me, persuasive claim: that the category of Asian-American is incoherent, and should be understood as a category of desire. This view flows out of Chu’s interventions on gender identity and questions of identity more broadly, which is often subsumed by desire. The reframing of questions of who one is to what one wants (or as I tend to prefer, what one hopes for) is attractive to me, as a pragmatist, as someone who’s always been sympathetic to anti-foundationalism, as someone who squirms at the thought of being considered racially Asian. I found the essays “On Liking Women,” “Pink,” and “China Brain” to be compelling for this reason.
So Art, Desire, and Politics would've been a more accurate title, as the two reflexive pieces about criticism feel tacked on and slight (one of them being described as a piece of “intellectual history” that forgoes footnotes). But there’s a tension here: desire and politics are strange bedfellows. How can individual desires be reconciled with the social world of politics? Along with the vacuum cleaner manual, Chu has also compared the persuasive act of criticism to flirting, and of seeing new books by authors she’s reviewed as seeing an ex from across the street. The contrast of these romantic metaphors with Chu's functional goals displays an inherent tension.
In the first essay of this collection, “Criticism in a Crisis,” Chu concludes by saying:
“This is the supreme task of the critic: to restore the work of art to its original worldliness. The artist creates by removing something from the world; the critic’s job is to put it back.”
I paused when I read this line. It is the natural conclusion of the argument Chu lays out in the essay, and yet it is diametrically opposed to a view that I had been mulling over for some time: the idea of criticism as possession. When I read the best works of practical criticism, such as James Wood’s review of White Teeth or Virginia Woolf on Chaucer or Euripides, I’ll admit that despite the immense pleasure, I feel a loss. Through rhetoric, through a knowledge of craft and literary history, through quotation, so persuasive is their characterization of a book that I feel that they have reached into the literary commons and taken it for themselves. Woolf now possesses Chaucer in some way, and my view of him is now bound up with her. An understanding of criticism as possession accounts for why some people, including a friend I recently talked to, avoid reading literary criticism: after reading a critic’s account of a work, they cannot encounter the text on their own terms. It is there in the title of Judith Butler’s Winter Lecture, “Who Owns Kafka?”, and in the late Harold Bloom’s fulminations against “The School of Resentment,” who successfully laid claim to the literature he used to have Possessed by Memory. You can see it in the often-misinterpreted Juilliard lecture scene in Tár, where the domineering facade of Cate Blanchett’s character comes down in a vulnerable moment when she tries to share Bach’s Prelude in C with a student, and then lashes out when she feels that (in his own way) he has taken it for himself.
Private ownership is not exactly in vogue these days. In the essay on Yellowstone, Chu describes how “John Dutton III refuses to be called rich, and he barely regards his land as a financial asset. Ownership is a legal fiction: He wants to possess.” Decolonization may not be a metaphor, but criticism by possession is. And in moments of dispossession, we must remember that the literary commons can never truly be plundered, that its works remain there for the taking. The best essays in this collection dramatize and enact that possession. So choose desire over politics, and if you want it, take it.
April 25, 2025
Truly some of my favorite writing being written these days - angry, brilliant, brutal, and full of certainty when we've been told that's the worst thing in ideas. She cuts through so much bullshit so effectively, thoroughly, and thrillingly. I do not think I could adore Andrea Long Chu more, even when she is eviscerating something I love (maybe I love her most then). No one else is doing it like this!!!!!
Some of my favorites in this collection:
- "In truth, Jude is a terribly unlovable character, always lying and breaking promises, with the inner monologue of an incorrigible child. The first time he cuts himself, you are horrified; the fiftieth, you wish he would aim."
- "Perhaps my consciousness needs raising. I muster a shrug."
- "For years now, Bret Easton Ellis has been accused of being a racist and a misogynist, and these things are true; but like most things that are true of Bret Easton Ellis, they are also very boring." (honestly will be reading this essay "Psycho Analysis" when I am sad for all the laughs)
- "It is harder, and smarter, to ask if politics ever transcends adolescent fantasy. Ziggy uses the political as an excuse for belonging. Are you telling me you don't?"
Some of my favorites in this collection:
- "In truth, Jude is a terribly unlovable character, always lying and breaking promises, with the inner monologue of an incorrigible child. The first time he cuts himself, you are horrified; the fiftieth, you wish he would aim."
- "Perhaps my consciousness needs raising. I muster a shrug."
- "For years now, Bret Easton Ellis has been accused of being a racist and a misogynist, and these things are true; but like most things that are true of Bret Easton Ellis, they are also very boring." (honestly will be reading this essay "Psycho Analysis" when I am sad for all the laughs)
- "It is harder, and smarter, to ask if politics ever transcends adolescent fantasy. Ziggy uses the political as an excuse for belonging. Are you telling me you don't?"
May 9, 2025
An incredibly sound collection of essays and literary criticism. The characterization of Chu’s writing as “literary take downs” is disingenuous; before she is critical she is at first curious. She asks questions of art and artists, she does what all good artists want their audience to do, she pays attention. The “problem” is that she does not suffer fools.
Her intelligence is surpassed only by her (self admitted) penchant for cruelty. However, Chu herself is not excluded from this cruelty, she often cuts herself (metaphorically) with the same knife she uses on others.
If we are our own worst critics, imagine that critic being Andrea Long Chu, in essence I want you to imagine being Andrea Long Chu.
The brain that won the Pulitzer Prize in 2023 for criticism is the same brain that is trying to kill her.
No one, especially not Chu is safe from her venom.
Her intelligence is surpassed only by her (self admitted) penchant for cruelty. However, Chu herself is not excluded from this cruelty, she often cuts herself (metaphorically) with the same knife she uses on others.
If we are our own worst critics, imagine that critic being Andrea Long Chu, in essence I want you to imagine being Andrea Long Chu.
The brain that won the Pulitzer Prize in 2023 for criticism is the same brain that is trying to kill her.
No one, especially not Chu is safe from her venom.
May 23, 2025
There is nothing that gives me the warm fuzzies like a book review with some bite
May 2, 2025
A new favourite curmudgeon. Welcome back, Orson Welles. Andrea Long Chu drags Phantom of the Opera, Hanya Yanagihara, the producers of Yellowstone, Maggie Nelson ... Loved the elegant hater energy. I was cackling.
Imagine seeing this comment tossed off about a book you wrote: "Whether this is a literary accomplishment or not hinges on how well-written you think books should be." Damn.
I also enjoyed her cheerful hypocrisy! Some of Authority's ideas don't make sense, and that's okay. Chu complains about the emptiness of prose in popular books but gives us plenty of half-baked statements of her own, like: "Television is Westworld for people who can’t afford to leave their living rooms."
No theory is safe. I found her lack of hesitancy refreshing even when I didn't agree. Look at this spicy shot at intersectionality: "It is as if, having guiltily assimilated the impossibility of speaking on behalf of all women, feminism has resigned itself to the modest virtues of playing hostess for other, frankly more persuasive political discourses—most of whose constituencies are composed of women, of course, but never as women." Oof, just looked over my shoulder to make sure Patricia Collins wasn't reading.
In her longest essay, Chu gives us a detailed history of the philosophy of criticism, listing all the (implied, wrongheaded) arguments throughout the years; but is circular and coy about her own approach.
It's as if she's saying, I won't tell you what it is, but I know what it isn't. You know what? Good enough for me.
Imagine seeing this comment tossed off about a book you wrote: "Whether this is a literary accomplishment or not hinges on how well-written you think books should be." Damn.
I also enjoyed her cheerful hypocrisy! Some of Authority's ideas don't make sense, and that's okay. Chu complains about the emptiness of prose in popular books but gives us plenty of half-baked statements of her own, like: "Television is Westworld for people who can’t afford to leave their living rooms."
No theory is safe. I found her lack of hesitancy refreshing even when I didn't agree. Look at this spicy shot at intersectionality: "It is as if, having guiltily assimilated the impossibility of speaking on behalf of all women, feminism has resigned itself to the modest virtues of playing hostess for other, frankly more persuasive political discourses—most of whose constituencies are composed of women, of course, but never as women." Oof, just looked over my shoulder to make sure Patricia Collins wasn't reading.
In her longest essay, Chu gives us a detailed history of the philosophy of criticism, listing all the (implied, wrongheaded) arguments throughout the years; but is circular and coy about her own approach.
It's as if she's saying, I won't tell you what it is, but I know what it isn't. You know what? Good enough for me.
June 6, 2025
fave essays were “china brain,” “you must decide,” and “bad tv”
i think chu’s writing is strongest when she’s grappling with nuance, though it is incredibly satisfying and fun to watch her take (WELLWRITTEN AND CRITICALLY RIGOROUS) shots at easy targets like Bret Easton Ellis and Andrew Lloyd Weber. love having this collection in one place but would have loved to see more new essays (i follow her work closely on the internet)
i think chu’s writing is strongest when she’s grappling with nuance, though it is incredibly satisfying and fun to watch her take (WELLWRITTEN AND CRITICALLY RIGOROUS) shots at easy targets like Bret Easton Ellis and Andrew Lloyd Weber. love having this collection in one place but would have loved to see more new essays (i follow her work closely on the internet)
June 28, 2025
To be a really good hater, i aspire to andrea long chu's level of erudition when it comes to haterade.
Did Not Finish
June 29, 2026A fabulous writer…the paragon of critics, even if I don’t fw every opinion…but man I read most of these pieces already 😭
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