Type the name of this book into an amazon search. Then peruse the section called “Books You May Like” or “People who searched for this book also searched for.”
You’ll find a glut of books—all published in the last five years—about the alt-right, fascism, totalitarianism, white rage, etc. And yes! I absolutely know why. And yes! I absolutely detested our previous President with a granular repugnance. And yes! I absolutely know that his ouster from office doesn’t end or even diminish the white supremacy he fished for, fanned and fostered, and ultimately, helped normalize, or “launder” as Lavin helpfully calls it.
So I’m not sure how to justify my disappointment with this book without sounding like one of the “well-meaning liberals” Lavin calls out with particular disdain for “our” reasonableness and lack of action.
I’ll just put it the way I feel it: I came to the book quite familiar with the history of antisemitism and its contemporary manifestations. I’m Jewish. I’ve studied the subject pretty deeply. Maybe that part of the book isn’t so much for me. After all, there is only one chapter devoted to “The Jews,” but as a consequence, I suppose, of Lavin’s identity, the thread of antisemitism binds the various chapters together. But it does so in a way that quickly feels repetitive and, I’m sorry, kind of self-indulgent.
And it’s repetitive in other weird, but irritating ways. The chapter on “Incels” started off interestingly. But several times in the midst of her narrative, Lavin stops to define “incel” again as if we haven’t just read what we’d read. The following chapter “That Good Old Time Religion,” really just scratches the surface of alt-right/fundamentalist Christianity. There’s little discussion about how and WHY such ideology continues to inform our national historical consciousness.
I found the structure of the book and this superficiality disappointing. As is often the case in my reviews, I’ll offer this disclaimer: the subtitle of the book is “My Journey Into The Dark Web of White Supremacy.” It REALLY IS about the details and anecdotes of Lavin’s journey. She said it was going to be so. For many readers, and obviously, for many critics, this exploration from this point of view is both welcome and novel. For me, its consequence is myopia. The story detailing Lavin’s being chased out of a casino by a white-supremacist and her boyfriend is scary. I can’t imagine how threatening that was for Lavin. But actually, to some degree, I CAN. Because she spends pages and pages dissecting the experience. And I’m not sure what the entire encounter actually achieves. As I said, earlier in the book, Lavin castigates well-intentioned liberals for their social inaction.
There is definitely something to be said for Lavin’s courage in turning over the rocks of the dark net to deny haters and hate groups the protection of anonymity.
But by the end of the book, I’m not totally sure what that something to be said IS. Indeed, in the Afterword (it may be in the chapter “We Keep Us Safe,” my memory is fuzzy), we find the images/rituals of Lavin cooking traditional Jewish foods for those she loves and for herself. Without a mote of cynicism, I’d say she’s earned it. After being called every horrible thing possible, I can understand why one would want to “shower” in a reclamation and celebration of the very identity that rouses such virulence.
But I’m left wondering how different the WORLD and its hate groups really are as Lavin shelters and rejoices in the warmth of chicken soup, the home and wall permeating smells of cholent and steaming kasha. I’d love to have a seat at Lavin’s Shabbos table with a full bowl and plate. I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to DO after it ends.