Egg

Object Lessons

by Nicole Walker, Christopher Schaberg (Series Editor), Ian Bogost (Series Editor)

Object Lessons is a series of short, beautifully designed books about the hidden lives of ordinary things.

This book is about a strange object-strange in part because it is something that we all have been, and that many of us eat. Nicole Walker's Egg relishes in sharp juxtapositions of seemingly fanciful or repellent topics, so that reproductive science and gustatory habits are considered alongside one another, and personal narrative and broad swaths of natural history jostle, like yolk and albumen. Mapping curious eggs across times, scales, and spaces, Egg draws together surprising perspectives on this common object-egg as food, as art object, as metaphor and feminist symbol, as cultural icon.

Object Lessons is published in partnership with an essay series in The Atlantic.

Genres: Nonfiction, Essays

168 pages, Paperback

Published March 9, 2017

Reviews

[Bandit · Rating 2 out of 5]

This isn't my first object lesson. I read another object history from this series. And it left me equally unimpressed. This one might have been more compelling, because I like eggs (fun and delicious in some occasions) but that seems too simplistic of an approach. This book was done in a genre blending mash up of biography, recipes, observations, contributions and stream of consciousness jiving on the subject of egg, all done from a distinctly feminine perspective, so much so that at some point the author puts her subject into her vagina. Now there's a degree of commitment to research one seldom sees in the object history writing. Aptly enough this book was about as enjoyable as the aforementioned peculiar act, quirky for sure, maybe even a conversation starter, but much too odd and insubstantial as a thing. Not sure what I expected, but this certainly wasn't it. There were some mythology factoids involving eggs in the earlier part of the book, which were interesting, but brief. The author's quirky offbeat style is readable enough, almost fun at times, but much more suited for an article or a blog instead of an actual book, small as it is. It is likely that Humpty Dumpty would have been disappointed. This series looks so promising, but so far they are just quirky novelties at best, lacking substance and not offering much in the way of entertainment value. Thanks Netgalley.

[Margot Singer · Rating 5 out of 5]

Good things come in small packages! This book is a gorgeous object in and of itself -- palm-sized and stylish, it's the kind of thing that makes you happy just to hold. Walker's poetic writing ranges and riffs inventively all around the theme of "eggs." Read it slowly and savor! Highly recommended.

[Lily Ryan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Raw and stringy at times and soft boiled at others. 4 stars because it was viscerally disgusting- but it definitely served a purpose. I bought this book expecting to learn something, and learned a lot more than I expected. Nicole Walker thoughtfully reflects on eggs as they literally and metaphorically are interacted with by humans.

[Pais · Rating 4 out of 5]

What a delightful book! If you're not already familiar with the Object Lessons series out of Bloomsbury, they're short (roughly 150-page) books centering around a single object: bread, passwords, hoods, glass, and so on. In the words of object-oriented ontology, this series gives objects their due, exploring how the agency of things affects us and shapes our encounters with the world. This edition, written about the humble egg, comes from Nicole Walker, an essayist and creative nonfiction teacher known for her past works Quench Your Thirst with Salt, Bending Genre, and Micrograms. For Walker, eggs are "full of potential, fragility, and fertility"--and her quixotic collection reflects these same principles (132). A master of the braided essay, Walker's prose vacillates between discussions of eggs and personal memories, relationships, or thoughts on an increasingly fragile planet. For example, in the essay "Experiment with eggs by making a hollandaise in the time of global warming," she alternates recipes for various egg dishes (souffle, poached eggs, scrambled eggs) with abstract recipes for a planetary disaster: global warming, turtle extinction, an apocalyptic novel. Other standouts: "All the eggs in China," "So many eggs, one small basket," "The incredible, edible egg," and "'The present was an egg laid by the past that had the future inside its shell'-Zora Neale Hurston."

For those who prefer drier nonfiction or the more analytical prose of the Object Lessons series (like Password, one of the driest in the bunch), this book may be something new. In a strict sense, this book isn't primarily informational; it's essayistic. No, the gaps between the braids are not neatly filled in; the reader must make some inferences about how composting eggshells and an elementary school balance-the-egg-on-the-spoon game. Most of the time, these braids work. Often, they're affecting in ways that surprised me: how could I get misty-eyed at a book about eggs? In any case, this is an unusual entry in the Object Lessons series, but it's one worth picking up if you're into really skillful creative essays.

[Matt · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading this in the shadow of Walker's talk on "the speculative essay" made a lot of sense of this. Sure, I know the Object Lesson series a little, and a little about the kind of books Nik writes, but I sort of didn't know what to expect of this. Or maybe I had some ideas, but they weren't all that accurate. So there's some science in here, environmental (Rachel Carson pops up, for example) and there's some memoirish stuff, loosely, about having kids but also about regaining an old friend. But there's also some pockets left open to hold other things, like a moving strophe collecting stories (and recipes, sort of) about eggs in Ukrainian, Korean, and Chinese culture.

And on top of that, so much more. Walker's books open in these strange ways and what they capture in their grasp remains surprising but really engaging every time. I really liked this book.

My copy has this weird inscription on the title page-- not sure if it's my copy or do all copies of the book come with ideas about writing reviews on Goodreads?

[Eileen Hall · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love this series of essays, called Object Lessons, from Bloomsbury.
They are not very big, but pack a lot in, just like an egg.
This little book tells you all you need to know about the not so humble egg.
A must for anyone's cookery book shelf.
Recommended.
I was given a digital copy of this brilliant little book by the publisher Bloomsbury via Netgalley in return for an honest unbiased review.

[Corrie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is one of those books you have to be in the right mood for. And if you're in the right mood for academically minded creative fiction that has a structure resembling shards of a cracked egg, read this in one sitting. It's bizarre in a good way.

[Erin · Rating 3 out of 5]

That was a lot about eggs. Some of the essays were wonderful. And some were not. An unevenly cooked egg, perhaps?

Snagged this book a few years ago in flagstaff. Finally getting around to reading it.

[Heather · Rating 1 out of 5]

I've enjoyed most of the books in this series, but sadly I found this really disjointed and difficult to get into.

[alita · Rating 2 out of 5]

Whatever charm Walker weaves through the pieces initially is quickly lost in a messy, hodge-podge of word soup towards the end. I found myself trying to just finish.

[Snonono · Rating 1 out of 5]

This collections of short stories starts with comparing menstrual blood to frittatas and doesn't get any better from there.

No theme, all edge, no point - not for me.

[Mandy · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was for me the least successful book of the usually wonderfully entertaining Object Lessons series. Ostensibly about the humble egg, I found it too discursive and rambling, with the author often going off topic, and I would have preferred a more straightforward and factual account of the subject.

[Amelia · Rating 3 out of 5]

I should've paid more attention to the words "personal reflections" in the description because I was expecting a history and scientific examination of eggs. Eggs through the ages. What I got instead was eggs as metaphor, egg recipes, stories involving eggs eaten while dramatic life events transpired. Which is fine but not what I was hoping to read at the time.
I received a free copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for my honest review

[Fallon Chiasson · Rating 4 out of 5]

You’ll never look at an egg the same way. Walker’s crack at this quirky series lies in a category of its own—which I suppose could be said about every addition to the Object Lessons series.

The structure of “Egg” may seem a bit jumpy to some readers, yet this seems to be Walker’s very intention: like an egg, the parts of the book could have been separated, but once put together as a whisked egg is, the parts are inseparable. From her ominous, mysterious, and unexplained broken then mended friendship with Rebecca which is never fully explained to her (purposeful) grammatically incorrect egg story excerpts from international colleagues, Walker’s “Egg” follows precise directions for ”Egg stuff” in book form.

A reader can expect to cover many topics in “Egg.” Modern hot topics such as the argument over cage free, free range, and plain old caged eggs; difficulties, successes, and failures with fertility; childhood trauma; eggperiments conducted on hot summer days; and the horror of a failed hollandaise sauce are all present in “Egg.” Yet, Walker’s storytelling technique does not result in an academic thesis on these topics, but rather a personal and highly creative narrative filled with her voice and the voices of others whom she highlights.

Deemed as fertility literature by some, “Egg” is that, and more. Walker’s book is culturally inclusive and socially conscious. The book is not for potential or failed childbearers, but for any and all. If anything, take a crack at “Egg” for a few eggcellent recipes found in the book.

[Saretta · Rating 3 out of 5]

Recensione
Review

Diverse culture hanno miti di creazione legati all’immagine dell’uovo, e anche per questo motivo l’autrice ci parla dell’uovo principalmente in termini generazione di nuova vita: la copertina ci porta la mente all’uovo di gallina, ma uova di tutte le dimensioni hanno questo scopo. Da questo filone si passa quindi al tema della mancata creazione, che l’autrice affronta parlando di esperienze molto personali.

Sinceramente è ben diverso da quello che mi aspettavo (ovvero meno uova metaforiche e più uova concrete, di cui si parla veramente poco).

Ringrazio l’editore per avermi fornito la copia necessaria per stendere questa recensione.

[Nguyễn Thùy · Rating 1 out of 5]

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