i don’t really know how to give a star rating to a book like this.
wilderson’s idea of afropessimism isn’t new to me but never doesn’t leave me a little shell shocked. it’s bleak, depressing, deserving of the ‘pessimism’ suffix but, above all it’s kind of depressingly true.
the legacy of slavery is a universal constant in all discussions of the roles and experiences of black people within society (particularly in the US: i would love to see how afropessimism would work in dialogue with postcolonialism or diaspora studies) and wilderson, hartman and martinot & sexton’s exploration of the purpose of violence against black people was chilling in it’s reality.
there are areas i struggled with: i refute wilderson’s idea that he is his wife’s slave — it feels like a moment where theory and reality disagree and his handling of it “it’s not my job to fix it” feels clunky and painfully 21st century (derogatory).
it was sharpe that marked my first introduction to afropessimism but wilderson who is really cementing it. i’ll definitely read more.