Crap. We all have it. Filling drawers. Overflowing bins and baskets. Proudly displayed or stuffed in boxes in basements and garages. Big and small. Metal, fabric, and a whole lot of plastic. So much crap. Abundant cheap stuff is about as American as it gets. And it turns out these seemingly unimportant consumer goods offer unique insights into ourselves—our values and our desires.In A History of Cheap Stuff in America, Wendy A. Woloson takes seriously the history of objects that are often cynically-made and easy to things not made to last; things we don't really need; things we often don't even really want. Woloson does not mock these ordinary, everyday possessions but seeks to understand them as a way to understand aspects of ourselves, socially, culturally, and Why do we—as individuals and as a culture—possess these things? Where do they come from? Why do we want them? And what is the true cost of owning them?Woloson tells the history of crap from the late eighteenth century up through today, exploring its many gadgets, knickknacks, novelty goods, mass-produced collectibles, giftware, variety store merchandise. As Woloson shows, not all crap is crappy in the same way—bric-a-brac is crappy in a different way from, say, advertising giveaways, which are differently crappy from commemorative plates. Taking on the full brilliant and depressing array of crappy material goods, the book explores the overlooked corners of the American market and mindset, revealing the complexity of our relationship with commodity culture over time.By studying crap rather than finely made material objects, Woloson shows us a new way to truly understand ourselves, our national character, and our collective psyche. For all its problems, and despite its disposability, our crap is us.
The book is comprehensive but don’t feel overwhelmed to read the whole thing. Other early reviewers focus on the content of the first chapters. I would recommend definitely reading part three to understand commercial gift giving and obligation creation through the 20’s. When I was growing up I saw these labeled products in my grandparent’s house.
Part 4 explores the rise of the gift shop from tea rooms that sold exotica with the rise of “recreational auto touring and the commodification and consumption of nostalgia. “Gift shop denizens only seemed to be purchasing gingham-covered jars of jam or pine-scented wreaths. What they were really buying was their own elitism.” “To this end, merchandisers created enchanting biographies for gift shop items to mark them as handcrafted rather than industrial products fashioned by people far removed from one’s own world. The labor of others was looked upon favorably, as something that could and should be exploited by customers and shop owners alike; in the process, these vaguely odd and foreign pieces of merchandise also represented, reinforced, and made apparent prevailing divisions between us and them, self and other, present and past, superior and inferior, subject and object. More expensive merchandise, whether handcrafted by locals or imported from remote sources, “require[d] explanations,” or backstories, to create authenticity and make them seem like unique and individuated things.” “Conspicuous uselessness (or waste, in Thorstein Veblen’s terms) was part of the point: things like hand-painted trash cans and hand-embroidered handkerchiefs were, after all, too nice to actually use”
I love the sheer articulation of this book and rich illustrations both in example and imagery.
Does this not illicit a “Yes!” From you as it makes sense of this faux past?
“Related to but different from heritage, nostalgia can be understood as a “yearning for a different time” and the “ache of temporal distance and displacement.”(The word “nostalgia” comes from the roots nostos, meaning homecoming, and algia, meaning pain.) People’s desire to be more closely connected to distant pasts and rightful “homes”—whether places or times or both—helps explain why things like faux finishes and worn surfaces became such important aesthetic elements in late twentieth-century gift shop merchandise, whether intentionally distressed “shabby chic” or pieces made of wicker, twigs, and animal horns, known more generally as the “Lodge style.”Ironically, tactility was also nothing more than a surface gesture, used not only to create artificial imperfections but also to help sell the merchandise by making it more immediately attractive to consumers.
My next recommended topic touring the craptacular world we created, are the cultures around objects produced specifically to be collected starting with commemorative plates and ending with beanie babies.
The illustrations are also a really valuable history lesson of crap through the ages.
If you know anything about collectibles or fiascos like that of the Beanie Baby, little in here will be new. It's bigger and more expansive, and in a lot of ways, far more browsable than it seems. I went in and out with how in-depth I read and felt like I enjoyed it a lot more by not forcing myself to read it closely.
The tl;dr is what it always is: middle class white folks' aspirations fall victim to capitalism, eager to cater to it. Most stuff we own is worthless and meaningless and woof, as someone who worked at Hallmark during the Precious Moments era (and the Willow Tree figurines!), that was a flashback to some grim times.
It also made me feel way better about seeking out older kid toys from my youth and instead of keeping them pristine and collectible -- as they're being sold in many arenas -- giving them to my kid to actually play with. That's what the value is.
This book is less about the history American-flavored consumerism, and much more about the history of five-and-dime stores to present day Dollar Generals.
If you’re expecting to gain a new lens in which to look at American culture, this isn’t it. If you want to know what lead to cheap variety stores, this is the book.
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There isn’t a clear demarcation of “crap”, which makes it difficult to trace any argument the author makes.
At the very end, the author suggests the consequences of buying “crap.” (1) bad for the environment, (2) bad for workers being exploited and (3) the harder-to-quantify of semiotics of these objects. But isn’t that with any purchase?
I would have liked to see a better outline of what is unique to “crap” and what about it is uniquely American, as is suggested.
On its own, this book is a meandering historical endeavor, tied with appropriately sassy prose deserving of a solid 4 star rating. But, to be quite honest, reading 400 pages about crap does something to the soul. Makes one look at the world a bit differently, uncovering tiny maniacal purposes in the most benign.
Starting with this book!
It’s strange, I agree with other reviewers in the assessment of much of this book *not really* saying anything we don’t already know. Live in America long enough, and you pick up on the intended life strats: live and die by the dollar. Want to maximize your score, go for the cheap. The means to which companies plate their products to goad us into devouring crap is quite intelligent, and (unfortunately) quite convincing. BOGOs, freebies, subtle Ads, desired gender roles, sanitized pasts, collecting fever, FOMO, etcetera.
We know this. Or at least, I certainly knew of all these concepts existence. What was most disturbing to learn was just how far back, many of these practices trace. Perhaps it is my post-War sensibilities clouding me from deeply grasping the majority of human history, but I assumed the 1950s was when most of craptopolis began its dissemination. However Woloson informs us that crap has been with the US since independence.
As with the Hummel figures, there is always a tendency to create a romanticized past, before we (or really, our ancestors) made our mistakes. Before cars became ubiquitous. Before CO2 became a common occurrence. Before we became so atomized (hang on, aren’t these all the same process?….). But there is no before with crap. It’s been with us for centuries. New logics arise, but it has been the handmaiden to capitalism. Allowing M-C-M’ to dominate the masses, under the guise of scoring a high score.
And this writing (perhaps unintentionally) really brings out just how that feels. What it’s like to live in a crapopalooza. Shoddy commodities everywhere. Flooding our senses, clogging our places, and lowering our standards. Faux personalities masquerading on dimwitted buyers. Speculation reserved for the race to the bottom. This book lists tons of examples of these products and how their teeming masses have permanently infiltrated our spaces. The long chapters, countless examples, and ridiculing prose are all narrators to this unfortunate turn of society.
The ending is fittingly depressing in this regard. Wendy is real with us, there is no exit in sight. The internet certainly has not ceased the spawning of crap. New global capitalist circuits have only expedited the processes. And the rot on society only seems to sink deeper.
Buyer beware! This book may turn the world around you into the world against you. But hey, it’ll still be a cool read.
Great insights into the seamier side of consumerism, the marketing and buying of crap, defined as stuff that is cheaply made and is often not needed anyway, and includes everything from gadgets to novelties to collectibles. The books is highly informative, well researched, and well written. At times the absurdity of the crap we consume, or have consumed in the past, is so absurd it is hilarious. This should be required reading for every adult consumer. Crap has the potential to destroy our world, if you think about it.
An entertaining history of mass-produced goods that feature little if any practical value, broken into separate sections that document the evolution of product categories like gift wares, collectibles, novelties, and giveaways from the late 18th century to the early 2000s. Despite the book's unpretentious title and object of investigation, Woloson offers an ambitious thesis on how American social relations have been shaped by centuries of cynical consumption. But while the conclusions reached are often unassailable, the careful attention devoted to documenting the material qualities of items often at times comes at the expense of suitably analyzing their broader context. Passages devoted to class, race, gender, US imperialism, and the environment can be compressed to the point of feeling tacked on, even though the product examples are brilliantly chosen to demonstrate how the crap we buy can subtly justify and expand the very hierarchies we are trying to escape every time we make a purchase.
As an academic book this is pretty great. But without that qualifier, I have to say the writing is pretty dry, despite some levity produced by creative use of the eponymous word ("encrapification", etc). I mean to say that it's pretty straight ahead scholarly history. Which is fine. I would just rather read this book if it were written by, say, Sam Lipsyte, or David Foster Wallace. (And if DFW were alive I could totally imagine him tackling this subject.)
The other thing about it is, this book is really a history of industrial-era capitalist scams. The history of how a nation of marks were tricked by grifter businessmen into living in a wasteful world of low-quality, built-to-fail products. As such, it was kind of depressing to read. However, it is chockful of interesting facts!
While the cover might suggest a light read lies in wait, that this is a publication of the University of Chicago tells you that it's really rather dense. It is also a little less coherent than I might have hoped, and I could have knocked it down another half a star if given the option, though perhaps that is a commentary on the material subject. Be that as it may, Woloson does deliver on the topic, though it would be more accurate to say that this is really a collection of parallel histories of various business models; Yankee peddlers, five & ten stores, "giftware," mass-produced collectibles, obnoxious "novelty" items, and so one. What all these things have in common is the ability to appeal for the American taste for novelty and cheapness, sourcing from easily exploited work forces, and the reality that no one needs most of this stuff, though wave after wave of "commemorative" items, unwanted gifts, and impractical kitchen items keep piling up, until they represented actual sources of psychological and physical toxicity. Woloson is alternately amused and horrified by this stuff, and I suspect that you'll be too at the end of this work.
This book is an encyclopedic overview of cheap mass produced products in America.
Unfortunately, it’s written by someone who hates the subject, and spends page after page condemning the lower classes for having the audacity to want what people like the author want, without being part of the upper classes.
There’s also a lot of Marxist double talk liberally spread throughout the book as well.
A truly fascinating look at how and why Americans accumulate "crap", i.e., gadgets, figurines, medals, commemorative plates, novelty "tricks" (e.g., fake vomit), dolls, Precious Moments, Beanie Babies, "swag" (i.e., "stuff we all get") etc. etc. etc. and what all this says about our culture and ourselves. Anyone interested in material history will find this insightful and well-written.
For an academic publication, an incredibly easy read about the history of consumption of cheap things - particularly compelling in sections discussing ways that the handmade are coded and interrogating the history of collectibles
I had a hard time with the layout, and the book was repetitive within chapters. I did a lot of skimming—interesting read about why we collect crap/stuff.
Some interesting facts about how people are manipulated into buying things, through the ages. The book was too repetitive on several subjects, but is a fun book to skim through.
Interesting premise, and I enjoyed the parts I read, about the advent of five and dime stores and about the ridiculous gadgets of the early 1900s! I just don’t feel the need to finish it.
Well-researched read on the evolution of crap/novelty items and collectibles and free stuff. Especially enjoyed the callouts for novelty jokes as meanness.