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276 pages, Paperback
First published September 5, 2014
Later that afternoon, I walked out the office doors and was hit full force with the smell of cow shit. Den Bosch is not a large city. The outskirts, where our office sat, is surrounded by farmland. As sun eliminated the barrier of frost covering the fields, the overwhelming odor permeated the air. It was the perfect metaphor for my experience thus far in this lovely country called the Netherlands. (180)Oof. I read this for the moving-abroad aspect, but it ends up being a lot of ranting about workplace drama that could happen anywhere, and then complaints about the Dutch doing things differently than the Americans. Which seems to be kind of...missing the point? I don't expect a memoirist to ignore the difficulties of an experience, but The Devil Wears Clogs could have benefitted from a) a lot more distance and b) the willingness to go through and strip some of the bitterness/judgement/cattiness out.
Here is where I made my career-limiting move without knowing it. First is the reason that I already mentioned, no Nederlander wants to be caught dead answering “I don’t know” to a question, ever. This is especially true when the questioner is a subordinate. I also learned later that in Dutch society it is considered a big deal when a person fails or makes a mistake. It’s the opposite in the United States, where we are taught that making a mistake is often how you learn to succeed the next time. (176)
David did most of the talking and was clearly pleased to introduce me, the tall blonde American, as his date. I scanned the room to see what other women wore. I already knew Dutch women do not love dressing up, and that just sitting down to attend to their hair and slight makeup was a chore they disdained, so I wasn’t terribly surprised to see that my dress was much more chic. When several of them openly stared at my fabulous dress, I smiled inside at my tiny victory. (183)
Celebrating Valentine’s Day isn’t common for Europeans. The no-nonsense thrifty Dutch are not whipped into a frenzy by any holiday that requires buying presents, unless it is for children at Sinterklaas. Even then, the celebrations are subdued. In comparison, Americans look materialistic. (165)I don't know, guys. I can take some negativity, but it has to be balanced with at least occasional positivity. Considering how determined she was to stay abroad, there must have been something about Europe (and the Netherlands more specifically) that she liked—certainly I hope so!—but you wouldn't really know it from this. Overall, very much a 'no' book for me.