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Cuz: An American Tragedy
Named one of the Best Books of the Year by the Washington Post , San Francisco Chronicle , Booklist , and Shelf Awareness
A School Library Journal "In the Margins" Recommendation “An elegiac memoir and social jeremiad,” Cuz is “a literary and political event like Toni Morrison’s Playing in the Dark ” (Henry Louis Gates Jr.). First appearing in The New Yorker , Danielle Allen’s Cuz announced the arrival of one of our most gifted literary memoirists. In this “compassionate retelling of an abjectly tragic story” ( New York Times ), Danielle Allen―a prize-winning scholar―recounts her heroic efforts to rescue Michael Alexander Allen, her beloved baby cousin, who was arrested at fifteen for an attempted carjacking. Tried as an adult and sentenced to thirteen years, Michael served eleven. Three years later, he was dead. Why did this gifted young man, who dreamed of being a firefighter and a writer, end up murdered? Why did he languish in prison? And why at fifteen was he in an alley in South Central Los Angeles, holding a gun while trying to steal someone’s car? Hailed as a “literary miracle” ( Washington Post ), this fierce family memoir makes mass incarceration nothing less than a new American tragedy. 30 illlustrations
A School Library Journal "In the Margins" Recommendation “An elegiac memoir and social jeremiad,” Cuz is “a literary and political event like Toni Morrison’s Playing in the Dark ” (Henry Louis Gates Jr.). First appearing in The New Yorker , Danielle Allen’s Cuz announced the arrival of one of our most gifted literary memoirists. In this “compassionate retelling of an abjectly tragic story” ( New York Times ), Danielle Allen―a prize-winning scholar―recounts her heroic efforts to rescue Michael Alexander Allen, her beloved baby cousin, who was arrested at fifteen for an attempted carjacking. Tried as an adult and sentenced to thirteen years, Michael served eleven. Three years later, he was dead. Why did this gifted young man, who dreamed of being a firefighter and a writer, end up murdered? Why did he languish in prison? And why at fifteen was he in an alley in South Central Los Angeles, holding a gun while trying to steal someone’s car? Hailed as a “literary miracle” ( Washington Post ), this fierce family memoir makes mass incarceration nothing less than a new American tragedy. 30 illlustrations
256 pages, Paperback
First published September 5, 2017
123 people are currently reading
1747 people want to read
About the author
Danielle S. Allen
18 books140 followersDanielle Allen, James Bryant Conant University Professor at Harvard University, and Director of Harvard’s Edmond J. Safra Center for Ethics, is a political theorist who has published broadly in democratic theory, political sociology, and the history of political thought. Widely known for her work on justice and citizenship in both ancient Athens and modern America, Allen is the author of The World of Prometheus: The Politics of Punishing in Democratic Athens (2000), Talking to Strangers: Anxieties of Citizenship since Brown vs. the Board of Education (2004), Why Plato Wrote (2010), Our Declaration: A Reading of the Declaration of Independence in Defense of Equality (2014), Education and Equality (2016), and Cuz: The Life and Times of Michael A. (2017). She is the co-editor of the award-winning Education, Justice, and Democracy (2013, with Rob Reich) and From Voice to Influence: Understanding Citizenship in the Digital Age (2015, with Jennifer Light). She is a former Chair of the Mellon Foundation Board, past Chair of the Pulitzer Prize Board, and a member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences and the American Philosophical Society.
Dr. Allen received her undergraduate education in Classics at Princeton University, graduating summa cum laude. She was awarded an M.Phil. and Ph.D. in Classics from Cambridge University and went on to Harvard University, where she received her M.A. and Ph.D. in political science. She joined the faculty at the University of Chicago in 1997 as Assistant Professor of Classics. In 2000, Dr. Allen became Associate Professor of Classical Languages and Literatures, Political Science and the Committee on Social Thought. In 2003, she was promoted to Professor. The following year she was named Dean of the Division of Humanities, a role she was in until 2007.
Widely known for her work on justice and citizenship in ancient Athens and its application to modern America, Dr. Allen was awarded in 2002 a MacArthur Fellowship for her ability to combine "the classicist's careful attention to texts and language with the political theorist's sophisticated and informed engagement."
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October 16, 2017P-review (ie, Preview)
The July 24 issue of the New Yorker contains an excerpt from this non-fiction work, out in a few weeks: http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/201...
The magazine's Contributors page says that the author, Danielle Allen, "is a political theorist and the James Bryant Conant University Professor at Harvard."
In this memoir of her relation with a younger cousin, Allen relates the love she had for Michael, and the way that she took it upon herself to help him in his younger years. His mother, her mother's sister, had made an unfortunate marriage to a man with a criminal record, who soon became abusive, causing the family to flee LA for Georgia for a few years, then return when Michael got in trouble as a youngster in south Georgia.
He wound up in prison from the time he was fifteen (in California). He and Danielle corresponded frequently over the next several years, she encouraging him to get as much education as he could in prison (which he wanted to and did). Some of the article quotes things that he wrote (without details as to when he wrote them), as here.
Allen herself says this.
The nine page excerpt does not seem to indicate that this is just another book about the hard facts that define life as a black in America. These hard facts are sometimes mentioned, and are of course implicit. But it seems to be more a story of one person who cared very much for another, but who over a course of years realizes that she only partially understood him, and never realized till after the fact that there were decisions made on his part that she never realized and would never have understood.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Previous review: Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova
Random review: Perfume: The Story of a Murderer
Next review: Sartoris Faulkner
… the links below result from a guess as to where the book reviewed would fit into my library …
Previous library review: Tales of Hoffman the Chicago Eight
Next library review: Billie Holiday at Sugar Hill Jerry Dantzic
The July 24 issue of the New Yorker contains an excerpt from this non-fiction work, out in a few weeks: http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/201...
The magazine's Contributors page says that the author, Danielle Allen, "is a political theorist and the James Bryant Conant University Professor at Harvard."
In this memoir of her relation with a younger cousin, Allen relates the love she had for Michael, and the way that she took it upon herself to help him in his younger years. His mother, her mother's sister, had made an unfortunate marriage to a man with a criminal record, who soon became abusive, causing the family to flee LA for Georgia for a few years, then return when Michael got in trouble as a youngster in south Georgia.
He wound up in prison from the time he was fifteen (in California). He and Danielle corresponded frequently over the next several years, she encouraging him to get as much education as he could in prison (which he wanted to and did). Some of the article quotes things that he wrote (without details as to when he wrote them), as here.
We, who are in prison,had to answer for our sins and out lives were taken from us. Our bodies became the property of the state of California. We are reduced to numbers and stripped of out identity. To the state of California I am not Michael Alexander Allen, I am K-10033. When they want to know anything about me they do not type my last name in the computer but it is my number that is inputted. My number is my name ... Dante was not in hell due to a fatal sin but somewhere in his life he strayed onto the path of error, away from his true self. I, K-10033, strayed away from my true self: Michael Alexander Allen
Allen herself says this.
The years between the ages of fifteen and twenty-six are punctuated by familiar milestones: high school, driver's license, college, first love, first job, first serious relationship, perhaps marriage, possibly a child. For those who pass adolescence in prison, some of these rites disappear; the ones that occur take on a distorted shape. And extra milestones get added. First long-term separation from family. First racial melee. First time in solitary, formally known as "administrative segregation". First time sodomized.
The nine page excerpt does not seem to indicate that this is just another book about the hard facts that define life as a black in America. These hard facts are sometimes mentioned, and are of course implicit. But it seems to be more a story of one person who cared very much for another, but who over a course of years realizes that she only partially understood him, and never realized till after the fact that there were decisions made on his part that she never realized and would never have understood.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Previous review: Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova
Random review: Perfume: The Story of a Murderer
Next review: Sartoris Faulkner
… the links below result from a guess as to where the book reviewed would fit into my library …
Previous library review: Tales of Hoffman the Chicago Eight
Next library review: Billie Holiday at Sugar Hill Jerry Dantzic
November 9, 2017
Find all my book reviews, plus fascinating author interviews, exclusive guest posts and book extracts, on my blog: https://whatcathyreadnext.wordpress.com/
Part memoir of her cousin, Michael, part devastating analysis of the US justice and penal system, I found Danielle Allen’s book, Cuz, utterly fascinating and thought-provoking. I don’t read a lot of non-fiction (although I think perhaps I should) but this book jumped out at me on NetGalley because of the intriguing story and the author’s personal connection with its subject. (A note on the book’s title – Michael was Danielle’s cousin, of course, but we also learn that ‘cuz’ was a term used by a particular gang in Los Angeles.)
In the first section of the book, one quickly recognises the author’s feeling of regret that her attempts to help Michael make a new life for himself on his release from prison in 2006 ultimately ended in failure. She questions whether she could have done more but perhaps Michael’s rehabilitation could never have been managed in the manner of a task list. What the author and the family didn’t know at the time was that there were always people and connections pulling Michael back in the direction of the criminal subculture.
The author’s academic rigour is evident in her assembling of the available evidence and her analysis of the systemic issues raised by Michael’s life and death. Allen examines the complex web of factors that led to Michael’s involvement in the original carjacking for which he was convicted, his sentencing and his imprisonment. Her descriptions of the soulless and depressing experience of visiting him in prison are especially powerful. There are also particularly interesting sections on the concept of the ‘parastate.’
I’ll be honest and say that, at first, I found the structure of the book, with its frequent changes of timeline, a little distracting. The author has chosen not to tell Michael’s story in a linear, chronological fashion but to start with his murder interspersed with his release from prison, only addressing his childhood and upbringing towards the end of the book. However, in a way, I can now see this structure mirrors the author’s own journey of discovery about Michael. He was perhaps never the person he seemed from the outside; instead he was troubled, lacking in direction, open to being manipulated by others and tempted by easy options.
The book contains wonderful photographs of Michael and his family, including many from his childhood. I found the contrast between the happy, smiling child in the photographs and the troubled adult described in the book very sad and quite moving. Sadly, one gets a sense of someone always on a trajectory to the untimely death that eventually awaited him.
Reading Cuz gave me a fascinating, if troubling, insight into many of the social issues facing the Western world today: gang culture, drugs, racial inequality, the effectiveness (or rather, ineffectiveness) of the justice and penal system. The author proposes a particular solution to the problems she outlines but I was left wondering if there will ever be the political will to pursue such a course. I somehow doubt it in the current political environment.
I received an advance reader copy courtesy of NetGalley and publishers Random House UK in return for an honest and unbiased review.
Part memoir of her cousin, Michael, part devastating analysis of the US justice and penal system, I found Danielle Allen’s book, Cuz, utterly fascinating and thought-provoking. I don’t read a lot of non-fiction (although I think perhaps I should) but this book jumped out at me on NetGalley because of the intriguing story and the author’s personal connection with its subject. (A note on the book’s title – Michael was Danielle’s cousin, of course, but we also learn that ‘cuz’ was a term used by a particular gang in Los Angeles.)
In the first section of the book, one quickly recognises the author’s feeling of regret that her attempts to help Michael make a new life for himself on his release from prison in 2006 ultimately ended in failure. She questions whether she could have done more but perhaps Michael’s rehabilitation could never have been managed in the manner of a task list. What the author and the family didn’t know at the time was that there were always people and connections pulling Michael back in the direction of the criminal subculture.
The author’s academic rigour is evident in her assembling of the available evidence and her analysis of the systemic issues raised by Michael’s life and death. Allen examines the complex web of factors that led to Michael’s involvement in the original carjacking for which he was convicted, his sentencing and his imprisonment. Her descriptions of the soulless and depressing experience of visiting him in prison are especially powerful. There are also particularly interesting sections on the concept of the ‘parastate.’
I’ll be honest and say that, at first, I found the structure of the book, with its frequent changes of timeline, a little distracting. The author has chosen not to tell Michael’s story in a linear, chronological fashion but to start with his murder interspersed with his release from prison, only addressing his childhood and upbringing towards the end of the book. However, in a way, I can now see this structure mirrors the author’s own journey of discovery about Michael. He was perhaps never the person he seemed from the outside; instead he was troubled, lacking in direction, open to being manipulated by others and tempted by easy options.
The book contains wonderful photographs of Michael and his family, including many from his childhood. I found the contrast between the happy, smiling child in the photographs and the troubled adult described in the book very sad and quite moving. Sadly, one gets a sense of someone always on a trajectory to the untimely death that eventually awaited him.
Reading Cuz gave me a fascinating, if troubling, insight into many of the social issues facing the Western world today: gang culture, drugs, racial inequality, the effectiveness (or rather, ineffectiveness) of the justice and penal system. The author proposes a particular solution to the problems she outlines but I was left wondering if there will ever be the political will to pursue such a course. I somehow doubt it in the current political environment.
I received an advance reader copy courtesy of NetGalley and publishers Random House UK in return for an honest and unbiased review.
October 3, 2017
Well to do cousin vs. poor cuz. Princeton vs. prison. Dean vs. drug mule. Laura Ashley comforter vs. cot.
Do you get the drift?
good luck
Do you get the drift?
good luck
August 30, 2017
A professor in political theory tries to make sense of her cousin's life and death through the examination of mass incarceration, penal and public policy. Her cousin Michael was first incarcerated at age fifteen for an attempted car jacking, of which the details are a little murky. Danielle Allen is the professor and author of this look at her cousin's life. Her intention here is to examine what went wrong after Michael's release and his death, three years later. Some of her writing has a showy feel to it especially when discussing her role in trying to rebuild Michael's life. She says about her role, "Not mine alone, no, but mine consistently—day-after-day as the cousin-on-duty, the one with resources, the one whose parents had been to college, and who was expected to go to college, and who had done so, and who had turned into a professional."
Okay. And her descriptions of Michael's mother, her aunt, were sometimes unpleasant and unnecessary, making this reader wonder how that added value to the text. Laying aside the personal and focusing on how little things can conspire to thwart a life focused on redemption is where this book becomes readable and utilizable.
"From here, any number of possible endings are still imaginable. But however broad the horizon of the imagination may be, events themselves unfold along a single track. Life may be a choose-your-own-adventure game, but we can live but one life. As we go, we shed all the other lives that might have been. From fourteen, Michael’s path ran from a broad horizon up and through difficult and merciless terrain."
She examines the changes in California law, where Michael was living at the time and how those changes and the increase in violence in the cities impacted sentencing, "They were designing sentences not for people but for a thing: the aggregate level of crime. They wanted to reduce the totality of crime; they didn’t have any interest in justice for any individual person, whether victim or perpetrator." Danielle laments the missed signs and signals from Michael's early years that, in hindsight perhaps family intervention would have played a role in changing the trajectory of Michael's life. She tried upon his release and reentry to really make his second chance fruitful. She helped him obtain employment, housing and his drivers license, but she couldn't keep him from making poor relationship choices that ultimately led to his early death. Finally , an unfortunate and sad tale of a life wasted but as Danielle reminds readers Michael is but, "one of so many millions gone."
As Danielle asks, "what went wrong" perhaps readers can find something in her questioning and in Micheal's brief live that serve as educational and cautionary to save a life and spare another family from the millions gone. Thanks to Netgalley and W.W. Norton for an advanced ecopy. Book publishes Sept. 5, 2017
Okay. And her descriptions of Michael's mother, her aunt, were sometimes unpleasant and unnecessary, making this reader wonder how that added value to the text. Laying aside the personal and focusing on how little things can conspire to thwart a life focused on redemption is where this book becomes readable and utilizable.
"From here, any number of possible endings are still imaginable. But however broad the horizon of the imagination may be, events themselves unfold along a single track. Life may be a choose-your-own-adventure game, but we can live but one life. As we go, we shed all the other lives that might have been. From fourteen, Michael’s path ran from a broad horizon up and through difficult and merciless terrain."
She examines the changes in California law, where Michael was living at the time and how those changes and the increase in violence in the cities impacted sentencing, "They were designing sentences not for people but for a thing: the aggregate level of crime. They wanted to reduce the totality of crime; they didn’t have any interest in justice for any individual person, whether victim or perpetrator." Danielle laments the missed signs and signals from Michael's early years that, in hindsight perhaps family intervention would have played a role in changing the trajectory of Michael's life. She tried upon his release and reentry to really make his second chance fruitful. She helped him obtain employment, housing and his drivers license, but she couldn't keep him from making poor relationship choices that ultimately led to his early death. Finally , an unfortunate and sad tale of a life wasted but as Danielle reminds readers Michael is but, "one of so many millions gone."
As Danielle asks, "what went wrong" perhaps readers can find something in her questioning and in Micheal's brief live that serve as educational and cautionary to save a life and spare another family from the millions gone. Thanks to Netgalley and W.W. Norton for an advanced ecopy. Book publishes Sept. 5, 2017
April 14, 2017
This was such an intensely sad -true- story of a life wasted and lost that I cannot say I "loved" it, but is was brilliantly told.
When Danielle Allen's "baby" cousin, Michael, was arrested at 15 for an attempted carjacking, he was tried as an adult and sentenced to 13 years. Michael served 11. Three years after his release, he was shot and killed. Why?
Why did he end up dead? Why did he waste away in prison? And why at 15 did he threaten someone with a gun and attempt to steal his car in the first place?
Danielle Allen searches for answers to these question and for the keys to his real story. Why is the question. Read "Cuz" to find the answers.
When Danielle Allen's "baby" cousin, Michael, was arrested at 15 for an attempted carjacking, he was tried as an adult and sentenced to 13 years. Michael served 11. Three years after his release, he was shot and killed. Why?
Why did he end up dead? Why did he waste away in prison? And why at 15 did he threaten someone with a gun and attempt to steal his car in the first place?
Danielle Allen searches for answers to these question and for the keys to his real story. Why is the question. Read "Cuz" to find the answers.
December 1, 2017
In Cuz: The Life and Times of Michael A., Danielle Allen, political scientist and Harvard professor, tells the personal story of her cousin Michael’s incarceration, brief life and murder. She describes his upbringing in Southern California and being sentenced for carjacking at fifteen just as the State had instituted its Three Strikes Law, his time in jail—taking college courses, working as a firefighter, and then his eventual release. How the family worked together for his homecoming, housing and jobs, but Michael didn’t make it, fell back in with his transgender girlfriend from prison, who shot Michael and left him for dead.
There is plenty of heartache in this book. Allen goes back and forth in the book from Michael’s homecoming and attempts to right his life, to the story of his childhood. In addition, Allen gives a run-down of what created the societal conditions in Los Angeles in the nineties—the drug and gang culture, the increasing incarceration, and the poverty of the region. Also—this book does a good job of covering how difficult the prison system is for the families—the endless waiting, tight rules, and little to no communication by the prison.
For me, the saddest was the chapter written by Michael himself. It is an essay describing his work as a firefighter for the prison. You read that essay, and you begin to think of a different future that Michael might have had.
This book was very much in the vein of The Short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace. And unfortunately, we need more voices to tell these stories. The millions gone that Allen writes about.
If you are still not convinced to read the full book, then at least read Allen’s article for the New Yorker. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/20...
Another plug here…I actually read the acknowledgments and was delighted to see Allen thanks Dr. Henry Louis Gates, Jr. for inviting her to give a series of lectures which then became this book. I watch Dr. Gates show on PBS, Finding Your Roots. If you haven’t seen it—check it out. Talk about some fascinating history and family stories…
There is plenty of heartache in this book. Allen goes back and forth in the book from Michael’s homecoming and attempts to right his life, to the story of his childhood. In addition, Allen gives a run-down of what created the societal conditions in Los Angeles in the nineties—the drug and gang culture, the increasing incarceration, and the poverty of the region. Also—this book does a good job of covering how difficult the prison system is for the families—the endless waiting, tight rules, and little to no communication by the prison.
For me, the saddest was the chapter written by Michael himself. It is an essay describing his work as a firefighter for the prison. You read that essay, and you begin to think of a different future that Michael might have had.
This book was very much in the vein of The Short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace. And unfortunately, we need more voices to tell these stories. The millions gone that Allen writes about.
If you are still not convinced to read the full book, then at least read Allen’s article for the New Yorker. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/20...
Another plug here…I actually read the acknowledgments and was delighted to see Allen thanks Dr. Henry Louis Gates, Jr. for inviting her to give a series of lectures which then became this book. I watch Dr. Gates show on PBS, Finding Your Roots. If you haven’t seen it—check it out. Talk about some fascinating history and family stories…
September 6, 2017
The New York Times got it right-a sad story terribly overwritten to the point of being unreadable.
Hard to believe that a woman with the awards that Allen has received penned the obtuse, run-on sentences which fill the narrative--to the point of casting doubt upon the merit of those awards. As to the substance of the book - it basically reveals that Allen failed in her mission to save her cousin from a life of crime--not pretty.
Hard to believe that a woman with the awards that Allen has received penned the obtuse, run-on sentences which fill the narrative--to the point of casting doubt upon the merit of those awards. As to the substance of the book - it basically reveals that Allen failed in her mission to save her cousin from a life of crime--not pretty.
December 8, 2017
I picked up a copy of Cuz: The Life and Times of Michael A because I saw Danielle Allen interviewed by Robin Hood CEO Wes Moore, and was touched by her raw emotion over the death of her cousin. I wanted to know more about Michael, a charming young man that everyone seemed to love, and learn more about how the criminal justice system failed him.
Unfortunately, I didn’t learn as much as I would have liked about what made Michael so charismatic. Moore interviewed her family after Michael’s death and helped put the puzzle pieces together. Each member knew part of Michael’s story, but learned more about him as she began to piece the fragments together. In this sense, she did her family a great service.
But there’s a detachment in getting to know Michael intimately not only because Moore was living in another state during most of the critical part of this story, but because of her self-confessed academic writing style. At one point, she even points this out as a way of protecting herself from this painful story and tries to improve upon it, but doesn’t really pull it off.
I learned more about Michael through his own writing--diary excerpts where he describes the mental toll that prison takes on him with references to Dante’s Inferno, and another narrative about fighting one of California’s fiercest fires. Michael had fire-fighting training as a young man and was allowed to continue it (after earning that right) while in prison. For the worst fires, California calls on its trained inmates to help supplement an overworked force.
This patchwork approach to storytelling puts the onus on the reader to synthesize what led to Michael’s death. It’s a fairly common story: a one-parent childhood filled with adults who weren’t there for him as much as he needed; the magnetic draw of gangs and drugs; and a frustrating lack of detail around another inmate named Bree, a beautiful transgender inmate with a record of violence, with whom Michael falls in love, and who kills him a year after his release from prison.
The failings of the criminal justice system are there, but I felt like we were examining them clinically and they’re addressed most directly in the last 30 or so pages. The “three strikes” law, which brings a sentence of 25 to life, allows for one criminal act to encompass more than one strike when broken down into its components, so Michael’s attempted carjacking at the age of 15 led him to be charged with attempted robbery (his victim’s wallet and watch), attempted carjacking (victim’s car) and then robberies he admitted to in the ambulance after his victim wrested away his gun and shot him in the neck. This was compounded by being tried as an adult, rather than a juvenile--for a first arrest. Also a lack of education opportunities in prison that could have helped him at such a critical juncture in his life. Michael was smart; but hard-cover books are not allowed in prison, so courses are designed around texts that come in soft cover. An 11-year sentence at the age of 15 surely cannot be justice.
When Moore asks Allen, in their interview, what is the one thing she wants people to take away from this book, she says it’s the injustice of our prison system and our need to find our way out of mass incarceration.
While those ideas are definitely represented here, they didn’t pack the emotional punch I thought they would, mostly due to, I believe, a second-person perspective that had to be researched and retold for its most critical parts, rather than experienced first-hand.
Unfortunately, I didn’t learn as much as I would have liked about what made Michael so charismatic. Moore interviewed her family after Michael’s death and helped put the puzzle pieces together. Each member knew part of Michael’s story, but learned more about him as she began to piece the fragments together. In this sense, she did her family a great service.
But there’s a detachment in getting to know Michael intimately not only because Moore was living in another state during most of the critical part of this story, but because of her self-confessed academic writing style. At one point, she even points this out as a way of protecting herself from this painful story and tries to improve upon it, but doesn’t really pull it off.
I learned more about Michael through his own writing--diary excerpts where he describes the mental toll that prison takes on him with references to Dante’s Inferno, and another narrative about fighting one of California’s fiercest fires. Michael had fire-fighting training as a young man and was allowed to continue it (after earning that right) while in prison. For the worst fires, California calls on its trained inmates to help supplement an overworked force.
This patchwork approach to storytelling puts the onus on the reader to synthesize what led to Michael’s death. It’s a fairly common story: a one-parent childhood filled with adults who weren’t there for him as much as he needed; the magnetic draw of gangs and drugs; and a frustrating lack of detail around another inmate named Bree, a beautiful transgender inmate with a record of violence, with whom Michael falls in love, and who kills him a year after his release from prison.
The failings of the criminal justice system are there, but I felt like we were examining them clinically and they’re addressed most directly in the last 30 or so pages. The “three strikes” law, which brings a sentence of 25 to life, allows for one criminal act to encompass more than one strike when broken down into its components, so Michael’s attempted carjacking at the age of 15 led him to be charged with attempted robbery (his victim’s wallet and watch), attempted carjacking (victim’s car) and then robberies he admitted to in the ambulance after his victim wrested away his gun and shot him in the neck. This was compounded by being tried as an adult, rather than a juvenile--for a first arrest. Also a lack of education opportunities in prison that could have helped him at such a critical juncture in his life. Michael was smart; but hard-cover books are not allowed in prison, so courses are designed around texts that come in soft cover. An 11-year sentence at the age of 15 surely cannot be justice.
When Moore asks Allen, in their interview, what is the one thing she wants people to take away from this book, she says it’s the injustice of our prison system and our need to find our way out of mass incarceration.
While those ideas are definitely represented here, they didn’t pack the emotional punch I thought they would, mostly due to, I believe, a second-person perspective that had to be researched and retold for its most critical parts, rather than experienced first-hand.
September 27, 2017
This was a quick read because I was enthralled with the story that the author Danielle Allen wrote about her youngest cousin Michael and how he got caught up in the legal system in South Central Los Angeles in reaction to the accelerated drug trade and gang warfare that sprung up in the nineties.
I had heard an interview with the author on the NPR radio show, "Fresh Air" and I was impressed that she wrote a 300 + page book about her beloved baby cousin who just happened to get in trouble with the law at the wrong time and place. She explains how the legal structure and penal system changed in California so quickly that it took Michael, his mother Karen and his whole extended family by such surprise that they still haven't recovered from it.
For anyone who's interested in legal or prison reform especially as it relates to young African American men.
I had heard an interview with the author on the NPR radio show, "Fresh Air" and I was impressed that she wrote a 300 + page book about her beloved baby cousin who just happened to get in trouble with the law at the wrong time and place. She explains how the legal structure and penal system changed in California so quickly that it took Michael, his mother Karen and his whole extended family by such surprise that they still haven't recovered from it.
For anyone who's interested in legal or prison reform especially as it relates to young African American men.
December 15, 2017
Michael's story is so compelling, but the writing in this book made it fall flat and seem pointless. The structure and chronology of the book made no sense, and were interspersed with chapters of the author purposely inserting herself and her feelings into the story, with no explanation of how her feelings related to Michael. I constantly felt myself getting sucked into Michael's story as the relation of his life events revved up again, only for a chapter to end and have the next chapter be a completely overwritten verging on selfish chapter about the author and her studies again. The whole book and its message would have had more impact if it was told completely chronologically, and the author led us to conclusions about incarceration in the US, rather than beating us over the head with her personal conclusions about it.
March 2, 2019
So devastating. It's very well written, but it does go on tangents at times. I loved the tangents and I loved Allen's voice. The story reminded me of the short tragic life of robert peace. Cuz was most excellent when Allen explores Michael's life in the context of the rise of gang violence, the drug war, and three strikes. His sentencing was clearly so unfair and it was just so sad to read about the family's regrets. Here is a kid with family support and means to hire a lawyer and he still gets lost in the system.
August 1, 2018
I highly recommend this book for anyone who is angered by or worried about the industrialized prison complex, the criminalization of the poor, racially biased sentencing protocols, racial profiling, or the unjust War on Drugs. Beyond that, it is a compelling first person narrative of how all of those societal forces conspire to derail millions of lives, using one particular boy as the focal point of the story. Mandatory reading as a companion piece to Michelle Alexander’s The New Jim Crow.
November 27, 2017
Sad story, dimly related.
February 18, 2019
Sad/important story but not great writing
"As we know, when Karen moved Michael back to Los Angeles, where she had steady employment, the policy had 47 percent of African American men in Los Angeles between the ages of 21 and 24 in their gang database. Reread that....It doesn't really matter if that many young men were actually gangbanging or if it was merely that the police believed them to be doing so. Nor does it matter if all of these young men were selling drugs or were only believed by the police to be doing so. In the context of residential segregation, the logic of social networks is such that once half o fa particular group of young men in a city either are or are thought by the policy to be involved in gangs, either are or are thought by the policy to be involved in selling drugs, all of the young men in that group in the city will be affected by the world of gangs and the punishments applied to it." <--- year 1992
"The producers and wholesalers would fight rather than cave in to the government's efforts to strip them of their distributors. They needed retailers and street sellers who could guarantee recruits into the business and also enforce discipline. To fight back against the War on Drugs, the drug gangs who took the business seriously established their own system of deterrence. In short, if you don't do what you're supposed to do, you're shot immediately."
"a 1995 study found that law enforcement systematically overestimated the rate of involvement of gangs in drug transactions. As policy-makers sought to crack down on drugs, it seemed easy to do that just by cracking down on gangs. Because the drug business was erroneously attributed almost entirely to gangs, the War on Drugs morphed into a War on Gangs. The consequences of this transformation have come to define the criminal justice system."
"The California Assembly members who voted unanimously to try as adults sixteen-year-olds, and then fourteen-year-olds, for carjacking had all become deterrence theorists. They were designing sentences not for people but for a thing: the aggregate level of crime. They wanted to reduce the totality of crime; they didn't have any interest in justice for any individual person, whether victim or perpetrator."
"This, I believe, is the most dangerous turn in a journey of this kind, the moment where you begin to hope for real. There is never a reason to let down one's guard. Never."
"But the rule was, you had to be paroled to the county where your crime was committed. In his case this was Los Angeles County. Need I add that LA County is crime-ridden?"
"As we know, when Karen moved Michael back to Los Angeles, where she had steady employment, the policy had 47 percent of African American men in Los Angeles between the ages of 21 and 24 in their gang database. Reread that....It doesn't really matter if that many young men were actually gangbanging or if it was merely that the police believed them to be doing so. Nor does it matter if all of these young men were selling drugs or were only believed by the police to be doing so. In the context of residential segregation, the logic of social networks is such that once half o fa particular group of young men in a city either are or are thought by the policy to be involved in gangs, either are or are thought by the policy to be involved in selling drugs, all of the young men in that group in the city will be affected by the world of gangs and the punishments applied to it." <--- year 1992
"The producers and wholesalers would fight rather than cave in to the government's efforts to strip them of their distributors. They needed retailers and street sellers who could guarantee recruits into the business and also enforce discipline. To fight back against the War on Drugs, the drug gangs who took the business seriously established their own system of deterrence. In short, if you don't do what you're supposed to do, you're shot immediately."
"a 1995 study found that law enforcement systematically overestimated the rate of involvement of gangs in drug transactions. As policy-makers sought to crack down on drugs, it seemed easy to do that just by cracking down on gangs. Because the drug business was erroneously attributed almost entirely to gangs, the War on Drugs morphed into a War on Gangs. The consequences of this transformation have come to define the criminal justice system."
"The California Assembly members who voted unanimously to try as adults sixteen-year-olds, and then fourteen-year-olds, for carjacking had all become deterrence theorists. They were designing sentences not for people but for a thing: the aggregate level of crime. They wanted to reduce the totality of crime; they didn't have any interest in justice for any individual person, whether victim or perpetrator."
"This, I believe, is the most dangerous turn in a journey of this kind, the moment where you begin to hope for real. There is never a reason to let down one's guard. Never."
"But the rule was, you had to be paroled to the county where your crime was committed. In his case this was Los Angeles County. Need I add that LA County is crime-ridden?"
August 9, 2024
Danielle Allen set out to write a book that would leave the reader thinking; she was successful at that, but I wish she had let me think for myself. She clearly twists the story of her cousin’s incarceration into a call for political change, especially with a coda holistically dedicated to drug legalization and decriminalization at the end. Throughout, I felt she was too closely tied to the conclusions she had arrived at to write a memoir; instead, she wrote what would better serve (once severely trimmed down) as an activist essay or speech. She tries to guess at the thoughts and feelings of her cousin (when she can’t possibly know them) all in a forced way to move her argument forward. I thought it was a beautiful story worth telling. I just wish she had let that story speak for itself. And I wish she had delved more into her own emotions, rather than guessed at her cousin’s. I recommend saving yourself some time and reading the New Yorker article. It has the beauty of the story with much of the forced political narrative trimmed down.
December 14, 2024
Decently written book about the author's cousin and how he fell victim to the streets, prison, and violence in California despite having the benefit of educated and affluent family such as herself. This book would've been better if we'd actually have gotten to know Michael more and the author would've engaged in some introspection.
March 5, 2021
Brief, personal-and-yet-academic argument for legalization of drugs.
August 20, 2017
After reading this thought provoking book, I came away with a greater understanding of gangs, drug issues, prisons and judicial system, and most of all, racial issues and the economically disenfranchised people of today. I live in a suburb far away from these mostly urban problems. It was portrayed so well in this book that I could really see these problems from another perspective. I will be thinking about these topics for a long time. My one complaint of the book is that the author did not go into much of an explanation or details of Michaels death. A sad ending to a very promising life. It makes me wonder if people/judges were tougher with him after his first thefts if it may have made a difference. By tougher I don't mean a criminal record or violence, I mean some type of repayment or community service. I do agree with some of the authors conclusions of the drug problem. I also admire the Allen family's love and support for each other.
November 15, 2017
This book was not what I expected it to be; it exceeded expectations. Allen manages to use both a macro and micro lens through which to examine the life of her cousin, Michael, who was violently killed not long after being released from prison. The book is partially a look into her relationship with Michael, as well as a reflection on it with insight likely gained in the aftermath of his death. Allen also examines other smaller scale points that affected his life trajectory, such as his personality; family history and relationships; ambitions; neighborhood; schooling; romantic relationships; spirituality; and more. She then takes these individually unique factors and places his life within the context of much larger factors, like criminal justice; War on Drugs; gangs; racism; poverty; violence; economics; and a whole lot more. Taken altogether, the book reads like a memoir, a sociological text, and a call to arms.
In the Coda, Allen sums it up as such: "The least among us are not thriving because those at the top of the illegal drug economy have established a parastate and entrapped impoverished communities within it through the systemic application of violence... The last among us are not thriving because national governments have sought to fight the War on Drugs by concentrating their world historic firepower, punishment, and control on impoverished communities trapped by the systemic application of violence within the parastate... The least among us are not thriving because so very many of us desire illegal drugs and turn a blind eye to the costs involved in supplying our desire."
In the Coda, Allen sums it up as such: "The least among us are not thriving because those at the top of the illegal drug economy have established a parastate and entrapped impoverished communities within it through the systemic application of violence... The last among us are not thriving because national governments have sought to fight the War on Drugs by concentrating their world historic firepower, punishment, and control on impoverished communities trapped by the systemic application of violence within the parastate... The least among us are not thriving because so very many of us desire illegal drugs and turn a blind eye to the costs involved in supplying our desire."
July 20, 2017
Danielle S. Allen takes a family tragedy and presents her heartbreak to readers, showing the personal side of her cousin's incarceration and death shortly after release, and inviting her audience to contemplate the bigger picture of what is broken in our society and with our current penal system.
Cuz exposes Michael's full character- the bad choices as well as the good intentions, and presents a three dimensional picture of him as a person and as a symbol of the young men who fall through the cracks, who are let down by our communities even when they have the love and support of family and friends. Sometimes it is just not enough.
While I found the back-and-forth timeline a bit jarring, Allen has undeniably created a thought provoking work that shines with honesty and sounds out a cry for change.
Thank you to Liveright and W.W. Norton for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Cuz exposes Michael's full character- the bad choices as well as the good intentions, and presents a three dimensional picture of him as a person and as a symbol of the young men who fall through the cracks, who are let down by our communities even when they have the love and support of family and friends. Sometimes it is just not enough.
While I found the back-and-forth timeline a bit jarring, Allen has undeniably created a thought provoking work that shines with honesty and sounds out a cry for change.
Thank you to Liveright and W.W. Norton for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
April 30, 2019
I hoped that this book would shed some light on a young man's short life shortly after his entry to society after serving over ten years in prison. Danielle, the author and cousin, of the subject Micheal did this story an injustice. Her level of self-aggrandizement throughout this story was grating. Her writing shows how different classes within a family can give people different stories. The way that Danielle wrote about Karen (Micheal's mother) was rife with pandering. I think she meant well; I say this from experience, if you have an incarcerated family member, you wonder why and how it happened and compare this life against yours to try understand--- that's natural. The sentiment is what led to my interest in the book. HOWEVER. This book just pandering and out of touch. This book is Danielle Allen reverse engineering/replaying history using her (intensely academic) mind to figure out something when it should be done with heart. Hard Pass.
October 29, 2017
The personal bits and the actual biography of Michael were incredibly heart breaking, so I feel like I can’t rate this lower than 3 but the execution was definitely lacking. The hardest thing for me was reading from the perspective of an academic without a real understanding of the drug/gang world, as I am definitely more closer to Karen and her kids story in terms of my own life. It reminded me in a way of the wire and how watching it you relate either to the police world or the drug world, and I am definitely the latter. If you relate more to the police world you will probably appreciate the execution of this book, but if you are like me it will probably feel weird to you.
October 26, 2017
A good case study on the effects of mass incarceration. Reminded me a little bit of The Short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace: A Brilliant Young Man Who Left Newark for the Ivy League which I highly recommend.
December 4, 2018
The writing became very circular very often and the book felt a little self-serving. She made it a point entirely too many times to remind the readers that she was ivy league educated and her cousins were not but in a way that felt almost condescending to the rest of her family. Read if it feels right but you can also skip it and be fine.
January 13, 2018
Michael’s story is interesting. Too bad the pompous author couldn’t stop inserting herself.
November 4, 2021
Cuz puts a human face -- or, more accurately, human faces -- on travesties that it's so tempting to generalize about: school-to-prison pipeline, War on Drugs, mass incarceration, "three strikes and you're out," and so on.
It also brought me into worlds I know secondhand at best, starting with that of a large extended family with almost uncountable cousins. Of J. D. Allen's twelve children, Danielle's father, William, was the eldest and Michael's mother, Karen, the youngest. Thanks to geographical proximity in greater Los Angeles, William's two kids and Karen's three became a cousin cohort, almost close as siblings, with Danielle, the eldest of the five, eight years older than Michael, the youngest.
Through circumstances not explained in Cuz, though their sexes undoubtedly played a big role, a class divide opened between William, who became a college professor, and Karen, who after two disastrous marriages became a single mother of three young children. This may not have determined the trajectories for their respective offspring, but it surely played a major role.
At the same time, however, Danielle Allen makes it crystal-clear that politics and public policy were at least as crucial. The "life and times of Michael A." are inextricably entwined, and Allen manages to keep her attention focused on both. This is one of the book's great strengths, but at times I found myself wanting more of the life or more of the times, so in some ways it was a weakness as well.
Mostly, however, it's a strength. Through details about the life I learn more about the times, and how public policy repeatedly made them worse for poor children of color who were stuck in Los Angeles.
Because school administrations couldn't protect students from bullying, many kids turned to gangs for protection.
Because, to keep arrest numbers up, law enforcement focused on nonviolent drug users instead of dealers further up the chain, most homicide cases were barely investigated and never solved.
Because murder so often went unprosecuted, gangs and drug dealers (there was a heavy overlap here) used it as a primary tool to enforce their authority. Danielle Allen calls it a "parastate," and it's as ruthless and unforgiving as the actual state.
Because the rates of homicide and other violent crimes were skyrocketing, along with public fear and exasperation, "three strikes and you're out" laws became popular, and not just with conservative white politicians.
So Michael at not quite 16 was arrested for an attempted carjacking. He was armed, but he lost control of his gun and the car owner shot him with it. Since he was connected with two armed holdups in the previous week, he got his "three strikes" in just a few days. Despite his age, he was charged as an adult. After pleading guilty, he was sentenced to more than 16 years, of which he served 12.
When he's finally released on parole, in 2006, the criminal "justice" system continues to subvert him at every turn. As an inmate, he's become an experienced firefighter and loves the work, but can he be paroled to a place where he could put his skills to good use? Of course not: the law says he must return to where his crime was committed, i.e., Los Angeles. In prison he's completed his GED and taken correspondence college courses. Danielle does her best to help him set up a life that includes job, community college, and affordable housing, but the miles involved in this triangular commute are pretty much all one needs to know to guess that it's not going to work.
And it doesn't. Three years after his first release, and only a few months after he was released a second time (having been locked up again for a parole violation), Michael is found shot to death in a car. He was 29.
Cuz includes two lengthy pieces of Michael's own writing, an essay comparing his prison experience to Dante's Inferno and a longer account of serving on a firefighting team. They're good. They give us a glimpse of what Michael was and what he could have become, had the deck not been so decisively stacked against him.
Cousin Danielle acknowledges that there's much she didn't know about Michael's life, both inner and outer, but what she conveys here is more than enough to put a face on the generalizations and the statistics, one face among "the millions gone," to enslavement, Jim Crow, poverty, addiction, and the criminal "justice" system.
This is a good book to read in conjunction with Michelle Alexander's The New Jim Crow and Heather McGhee's The Sum of Us. Btw, Danielle Allen is currently (fall 2021) running for governor of Massachusetts. I heard her talk about Michael, and that's what led me to her book about him.
It also brought me into worlds I know secondhand at best, starting with that of a large extended family with almost uncountable cousins. Of J. D. Allen's twelve children, Danielle's father, William, was the eldest and Michael's mother, Karen, the youngest. Thanks to geographical proximity in greater Los Angeles, William's two kids and Karen's three became a cousin cohort, almost close as siblings, with Danielle, the eldest of the five, eight years older than Michael, the youngest.
Through circumstances not explained in Cuz, though their sexes undoubtedly played a big role, a class divide opened between William, who became a college professor, and Karen, who after two disastrous marriages became a single mother of three young children. This may not have determined the trajectories for their respective offspring, but it surely played a major role.
At the same time, however, Danielle Allen makes it crystal-clear that politics and public policy were at least as crucial. The "life and times of Michael A." are inextricably entwined, and Allen manages to keep her attention focused on both. This is one of the book's great strengths, but at times I found myself wanting more of the life or more of the times, so in some ways it was a weakness as well.
Mostly, however, it's a strength. Through details about the life I learn more about the times, and how public policy repeatedly made them worse for poor children of color who were stuck in Los Angeles.
Because school administrations couldn't protect students from bullying, many kids turned to gangs for protection.
Because, to keep arrest numbers up, law enforcement focused on nonviolent drug users instead of dealers further up the chain, most homicide cases were barely investigated and never solved.
Because murder so often went unprosecuted, gangs and drug dealers (there was a heavy overlap here) used it as a primary tool to enforce their authority. Danielle Allen calls it a "parastate," and it's as ruthless and unforgiving as the actual state.
Because the rates of homicide and other violent crimes were skyrocketing, along with public fear and exasperation, "three strikes and you're out" laws became popular, and not just with conservative white politicians.
So Michael at not quite 16 was arrested for an attempted carjacking. He was armed, but he lost control of his gun and the car owner shot him with it. Since he was connected with two armed holdups in the previous week, he got his "three strikes" in just a few days. Despite his age, he was charged as an adult. After pleading guilty, he was sentenced to more than 16 years, of which he served 12.
When he's finally released on parole, in 2006, the criminal "justice" system continues to subvert him at every turn. As an inmate, he's become an experienced firefighter and loves the work, but can he be paroled to a place where he could put his skills to good use? Of course not: the law says he must return to where his crime was committed, i.e., Los Angeles. In prison he's completed his GED and taken correspondence college courses. Danielle does her best to help him set up a life that includes job, community college, and affordable housing, but the miles involved in this triangular commute are pretty much all one needs to know to guess that it's not going to work.
And it doesn't. Three years after his first release, and only a few months after he was released a second time (having been locked up again for a parole violation), Michael is found shot to death in a car. He was 29.
Cuz includes two lengthy pieces of Michael's own writing, an essay comparing his prison experience to Dante's Inferno and a longer account of serving on a firefighting team. They're good. They give us a glimpse of what Michael was and what he could have become, had the deck not been so decisively stacked against him.
Cousin Danielle acknowledges that there's much she didn't know about Michael's life, both inner and outer, but what she conveys here is more than enough to put a face on the generalizations and the statistics, one face among "the millions gone," to enslavement, Jim Crow, poverty, addiction, and the criminal "justice" system.
This is a good book to read in conjunction with Michelle Alexander's The New Jim Crow and Heather McGhee's The Sum of Us. Btw, Danielle Allen is currently (fall 2021) running for governor of Massachusetts. I heard her talk about Michael, and that's what led me to her book about him.
October 30, 2017
what an amazing book. Danielle Allen, academic superstar, recounts the imprisonment and death of her cousin, convicted for attempted carjacking with a gun. This setting alone describes an astonishing distance in life trajectories between two cousins who were otherwise extremely close and, she suggests, not so different (she describes him as brilliant and talks about how she tested her own scholarly arguments with him). The fate of Michael, sentenced at age fifteen to twelve years of prison, subsequently murdered by his girlfriend whom he met in prison, is heart wrenching, but it is not a tragedy like a predestined destiny: it is the consequence of a hateful criminal system and a culture of gangs and drug-related violence. The author zooms back and forth--between different moments in Michael's life, but also between a concrete focus on him and a more general discussion of the structure that led to his imprisonment and death. She does not exonerate him (and she also expresses openly her own struggles with the fact that she could not save him), but his personal failings pale in importance relative to a societal structure that is deeply unjust and that we recognize as deeply unjust in the example of one of its many victims.
Jennifer Senior, in her review in the New York Times, criticizes the style as too verbose and the author for her inability to express more clearly her own emotions and to draw a clearer picture of who Michael actually was. This strikes me as one of those cases in which the reviewer gets it completely backwards. It is precisely the strength of the book, I would think, that it not only describes events, and emotions, that most of us who have not experienced them) never will but also makes clear that these are actually, ultimately, indescribable. The expressed inability to fully describe her emotions demonstrates powerfully the rift even between the author's life as a Harvard professor and her identity as the cousin of a prison inmate. And of course, it is also a stylistic device: In reality, it is precisely through such sentences that Allen describes quite neatly her emotions but also Michael's experience. The book makes much of a comparison of prison with Dante's inferno, which I found very powerful.
Similarly, the fact that no clear picture of Michael emerges is a strength, not a weakness of the book. Not only did Danielle not have access to all documents (although he was tried as an adult, his file was treated as that of a minor, which limited access). More importantly, the glaring difference between the smiling brilliant cousin she knew and the dangerous criminal as whom the state saw him, the difference between the teenager who runs marathons and the young adult who deals in drugs, is so great that it would be strange if a clear image emerged. The Michael she describes was not allowed to be and become the person he was to be, and instead was turned into someone else and killed by forces most of which were outside of not only his control but also his, and his mother's (and to some extent most everybody's including the author's) comprehension.
So I think, by contrast, that the book is brilliantly well written. It stands in the tradition of powerful social critique through individualized experience. Often those experiences are autobiographical (think Frederick Douglass, Malcolm X, Didier Eribon) and as such powerful but also of course in some way self-centered. Danielle Allen positions herself at that most fruitful spot of both close proximity to the subject (as her cousin) and outside observer, and expressly straddles back and forth between both. She thematizes precisely this uneasiness, most openly in the two chapters in which she recounts, in starkly different ways (once as academic and once as individual) her experience from visiting the prison.
This is an easy read insofar as it is extremely accessible and not extremely long (I read it in one day). It is a hard read insofar as it describes a destroyed life in devastating clarity. Both are good reasons to read this.
Jennifer Senior, in her review in the New York Times, criticizes the style as too verbose and the author for her inability to express more clearly her own emotions and to draw a clearer picture of who Michael actually was. This strikes me as one of those cases in which the reviewer gets it completely backwards. It is precisely the strength of the book, I would think, that it not only describes events, and emotions, that most of us who have not experienced them) never will but also makes clear that these are actually, ultimately, indescribable. The expressed inability to fully describe her emotions demonstrates powerfully the rift even between the author's life as a Harvard professor and her identity as the cousin of a prison inmate. And of course, it is also a stylistic device: In reality, it is precisely through such sentences that Allen describes quite neatly her emotions but also Michael's experience. The book makes much of a comparison of prison with Dante's inferno, which I found very powerful.
Similarly, the fact that no clear picture of Michael emerges is a strength, not a weakness of the book. Not only did Danielle not have access to all documents (although he was tried as an adult, his file was treated as that of a minor, which limited access). More importantly, the glaring difference between the smiling brilliant cousin she knew and the dangerous criminal as whom the state saw him, the difference between the teenager who runs marathons and the young adult who deals in drugs, is so great that it would be strange if a clear image emerged. The Michael she describes was not allowed to be and become the person he was to be, and instead was turned into someone else and killed by forces most of which were outside of not only his control but also his, and his mother's (and to some extent most everybody's including the author's) comprehension.
So I think, by contrast, that the book is brilliantly well written. It stands in the tradition of powerful social critique through individualized experience. Often those experiences are autobiographical (think Frederick Douglass, Malcolm X, Didier Eribon) and as such powerful but also of course in some way self-centered. Danielle Allen positions herself at that most fruitful spot of both close proximity to the subject (as her cousin) and outside observer, and expressly straddles back and forth between both. She thematizes precisely this uneasiness, most openly in the two chapters in which she recounts, in starkly different ways (once as academic and once as individual) her experience from visiting the prison.
This is an easy read insofar as it is extremely accessible and not extremely long (I read it in one day). It is a hard read insofar as it describes a destroyed life in devastating clarity. Both are good reasons to read this.
May 17, 2018
I read this on recommendation after being completely blown away by Gary Younge’s ‘Another Day in the Death of America’. Cuz is a memoir come casebook covering the life and death of the author’s cousin, Michael Allen and plots his journey from childhood through his teenage years and his subsequent imprisonment at the age of 15. After spending 11 years in incarceration, Michael dies of gunshot wounds at the hands of his lover within 3 years of being released. His cousins memoir goes some way to retracing the steps of his life which contributed to his untimely end. However, I don’t feel it goes far enough. Allen’s writing seems symptomatic of an issue Younge discussed in his own work- whilst guns feature throughout this young man’s life and ultimately end his life, there’s no mention of gun control, gun-law or America’s relationship with guns at all. Given the undeniable role of guns in Michael Allen’s story- he is imprisoned for armed carjacking, he is shot in the neck, he is killed from multiple gunshot wounds- the omission of any exploration of the subject's or his society’s relationship with guns seems somewhat bizarre. As such, I found the purpose of this memoir rather confusing.
Pitched as ‘the life and times’ of her cousin, the penultimate chapter becomes a polemic against the criminalisation of drugs and an appeal in support of rethinking the current drug prosecution system. As regards this, I’m actually fully onboard with the author’s support of decriminalisation of drugs but I don’t feel that Michael’s story is a particularly compelling argument in support of this action. Furthermore, I struggled with the author’s writing and found her tone at times verging on class-snobbery. She refers to ’sodomy’ rather than rape and her academic family seem extremely far removed from the cultural context of her cousin and her writing style veers from hyperbolic verse to personal anecdote in a jarring manner. Keen to establish herself as an ‘academic’ from the start, I expected her narrative to be less biased and more fully researched in its exploration of the social and cultural issues which contributed to her cousin’s death. Perhaps in retelling a story in which the author is, understandably, emotionally invested has limited her objectivity. Therefore, as a tale of tragedy and an insight into the America justice system, this story is at once heartbreaking and painfully frustrating and infuriating. But in terms of social comment, cultural insight or a full exploration of how either contributed to Michael’s life and death, I found the author’s research sadly lacking.
Pitched as ‘the life and times’ of her cousin, the penultimate chapter becomes a polemic against the criminalisation of drugs and an appeal in support of rethinking the current drug prosecution system. As regards this, I’m actually fully onboard with the author’s support of decriminalisation of drugs but I don’t feel that Michael’s story is a particularly compelling argument in support of this action. Furthermore, I struggled with the author’s writing and found her tone at times verging on class-snobbery. She refers to ’sodomy’ rather than rape and her academic family seem extremely far removed from the cultural context of her cousin and her writing style veers from hyperbolic verse to personal anecdote in a jarring manner. Keen to establish herself as an ‘academic’ from the start, I expected her narrative to be less biased and more fully researched in its exploration of the social and cultural issues which contributed to her cousin’s death. Perhaps in retelling a story in which the author is, understandably, emotionally invested has limited her objectivity. Therefore, as a tale of tragedy and an insight into the America justice system, this story is at once heartbreaking and painfully frustrating and infuriating. But in terms of social comment, cultural insight or a full exploration of how either contributed to Michael’s life and death, I found the author’s research sadly lacking.
November 7, 2017
Harvard professor Allen found herself “at-bat” as “…the closest family member…with the flexibility and means required to be a steady and consistent presence” in her young cousin Michael’s life after his release from prison. Michael was 15 when he was first arrested in 1995 for attempted carjacking. Sentenced to 25 years to life, he served 11 (sweet Jesus, eh?), after which the author began coaching him on how to get a job, go to college, get a car, etc. Things were looking good, and Allen was allowing herself to feel hope when Michael was shot dead. Released from prison in 2006, he died in 2009. Here, Allen personalizes a situation that will feel unbelievable to many readers. While she doesn’t shy away from the seedier aspects of Michael’s life (he was an occasional drug mule, for example), she does focus on the positives, such as that he volunteered as a prison wildfire fighter. Naturally, she’s also deeply pissed off. Even given the anticrime climate of mid-1990s L.A., Allen calls her young black cousin’s sentencing “…one of the purest expressions of hatred I can imagine.” She’s not posing a hypothetical question when she wonders, “[w]hy did he have to pass from boy to man, an odyssey of eleven years, behind bars?” Readers may also be interested in recent RadioLab episodes (Shots Fired, Parts 1 and 2), which focus on how some families celebrate the lives of their sons, daughters, husbands, brothers, etc. killed by police, and say both awful and powerful things about our society. VERDICT: This is a wrenching testament to how strong and central a force a stable family can be. Allen’s writing is insightful, forthright, and eminently readable, with a homespun, direct delivery.
Find reviews of books for men at Books for Dudes, Books for Dudes, the online reader's advisory column for men from Library Journal. Copyright Library Journal.
Find reviews of books for men at Books for Dudes, Books for Dudes, the online reader's advisory column for men from Library Journal. Copyright Library Journal.
January 13, 2018
In “Cuz”, the story of the ill-fated life of the author’s cousin serves both as a eulogy and as a vehicle for a concise analysis of the conditions that led to his downfall. While the tale of economic deprivation leading to dysfunction and tragedy may sound familiar, the purpose of the book is not to break our hearts yet again, though it does. Instead, it offers a clear understanding of the forces at play and the policies at the heart of oppression as experienced real people. It’s the flesh and blood story that gives depth and indelibility to that understanding.
Gangs were originally formed for mutual protection against the attacks from racist outsiders. With the advent of the lucrative drug trade, some gangs used their organizational advantage to get in on the profits, though to a far lesser degree than was widely believed, even by law enforcement agencies who could have known better. The war on drugs conflated gang activity with drug dealing. Anti-gang measures essentially criminalized being black with roughly half the black men in Los Angeles in the gang database maintained by law enforcement.
At the same time the judicial system became clogged with low level drug use cases, rendering the system incapable of dealing with more serious crime. Homicide went unpunished enabling gangs to rule their turf with ruthless impunity. Youth are forced to join gangs on pain of death. Families do not have the resources to escape.
The author refers to the druglord tyranny as the parastate, which, along with the militarized police force brought to bear on neighborhoods victimizes the populations trapped within its borders.
Despite the weight of its subject, the book reads easily. The author’s tone is caring but unsentimental and her self-reflection made her approachable. Most valuable for me was her concise analysis of the forces at play, made tangible by the real lives they affected.
Gangs were originally formed for mutual protection against the attacks from racist outsiders. With the advent of the lucrative drug trade, some gangs used their organizational advantage to get in on the profits, though to a far lesser degree than was widely believed, even by law enforcement agencies who could have known better. The war on drugs conflated gang activity with drug dealing. Anti-gang measures essentially criminalized being black with roughly half the black men in Los Angeles in the gang database maintained by law enforcement.
At the same time the judicial system became clogged with low level drug use cases, rendering the system incapable of dealing with more serious crime. Homicide went unpunished enabling gangs to rule their turf with ruthless impunity. Youth are forced to join gangs on pain of death. Families do not have the resources to escape.
The author refers to the druglord tyranny as the parastate, which, along with the militarized police force brought to bear on neighborhoods victimizes the populations trapped within its borders.
Despite the weight of its subject, the book reads easily. The author’s tone is caring but unsentimental and her self-reflection made her approachable. Most valuable for me was her concise analysis of the forces at play, made tangible by the real lives they affected.
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