Being Numerous: Essays on Non-Fascist Life

by Natasha Lennard

An urgent challenge to the prevailing moral order from one of the freshest, most compelling voices in radical politics today

Being Numerous shatters the mainstream consensus on politics and personhood, offering in its place a bracing analysis of a perilous world and how we should live in it. Beginning with an interrogation of what it means to fight fascism, Natasha Lennard explores the limits of individual rights, the criminalization of political dissent, the myths of radical sex, and the ghosts in our lives. At once politically committed and philosophically capacious, Being Numerous is a revaluation of the idea that the personal is political, and situates as the central question of our time—How can we live a non-fascist life?

Genres: Nonfiction, Politics, Essays, Philosophy, Theory, Feminism, Social Justice

144 pages, Paperback

First published April 30, 2019

Reviews

[Jonfaith · Rating 4 out of 5]

For if reality is just there, then we all exist together in its sameness, separately and alone, with ghosts no more than metaphors.

A strange , I’d otherwise say haunting, collection of essays largely from the days of Trump 45. They anticipate Luigi while citing Derrida and Fanon. As with many Verso books I stifled the urge to sigh. The final piece on suicide will likely linger in my headspace for a while.

[Eli · Rating 3 out of 5]

The first 2/3rds of the book is a competent if dry 101 on antifascist thought. Black Lives Matter, Standing Rock, J20 and important legal battles around them all are explained clearly and reflected on with some depth.

The chapter on desire is just terrible, cissexist, shallow and focused entirely on what loud guys are doing wrong, instead of on any of a number of more insightful approaches she could have taken into actual antifascist work going on around desire, sex and sex work. Why are we still uncritically centering cis men's viewpoints on cis women's sexuality? This is useless. Plenty of other chapters showcased research she had done, but I think she decided no research was needed here, and she could just make it a diary entry. While she made some valuable choices in what centerpoints she choose for previous chapters, this one seemed to be just an axe to grind against a shitty ex-boyfriend of hers who had no insights to offer me, and I lost interest in continuing the book. Gender, desire and sexuality is too important a subject to fumble this badly. Go find any trans woman anywhere writing on these subjects in their own lives for better insight on fascism and antifascism in gender, sex work and/or sexuality.

[Nóra Ugron · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant collection. Written from a US context, but I believe the essays can be very useful read from Romania as well, as they deal with concrete events like the BLM movement, protests against Trump or Standing Rock protests, that all shaped also the Eastern-European activist movements some way or another. Moreover, Lennard points out the necessity and the possibilities of antifa action both historically and in the present (against the rise of the far-right, everyday fascism and racism, against the prison industrial complex and technocapitalist surveillance etc) - and this is very accurate in other places than the US as well. I loved every part of it, very well thought and written. Sharp and honest.

[Mayze · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lennard’s essays illustrate what free thinking looks like in the 21st century. Really enjoyed this book.

[Bianca Sass · Rating 2 out of 5]

Gave me a list of interesting topics, people, and theories to look into— because she did not really explain them lol

[Julesreads · Rating 5 out of 5]

As all great writing is (I didn’t say books necessarily), this is lived-in, honest, clear, and forceful. To get to a radical perspective—one we are sorely lacking in my opinion—one only needs to read this book by Natasha Lennard. Her reasoning and open-book status make her a convincing, gripping voice, one unafraid to go wherever necessary and however to get there, to make her essential point.

[Angela · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very slight, very short articles on Antifa and antifacism. The first article was clearly the standout of the bunch and the tenth was mildly rewarding. Shocking to say, but for something so current it almost feels out of date four years later, which perhaps goes to show how fast things accelerated during the pandemic and how many things have superseded the events in this collection.

[Zoë · Rating 3 out of 5]

A short collection of essays loosely tied around the theme of not simply being against fascism, but *actively* living a life that rejects it. A bit dry and wandering for such a short volume, it was hard to rally around the central theme because some of the essays covered vastly different subjects from each other. I understand the author wanted to collect various articles she wrote at different times in one place, but I also thought a lot could've been expanded on. As it was, I found it a bit too on the edge of scholarly for such a short volume, or to be considered a primer/a good starting place on the subjects the author covers.

[Ryan Bell · Rating 4 out of 5]

Some absolute gems in here. I love being challenged by this style of analysis and writing.

[Bookish]

Natasha Lennard’s essay collection is an incisive, yet accessible examination of politics today. She writes about how the construction of “good protesters” and “bad protesters” hurts us all, the radical possibilities of queerness under capitalism, and why she doesn’t use the prefix “neo” when talking about today’s fascists and Nazis. She balances the ways that today’s political climate is an extension of very long trends and histories, and yet is still an extraordinary moment. Plus, she connects the ghost in her childhood bathroom to the capacity for imagining a better collective future. —Nina (excerpted from Bookish's Staff Reads)

[Kate · Rating 3 out of 5]

“When you invent the ship, you also invent the shipwreck.” —PV

“Things happen one way and we tell about them in the opposite sense.” —JPS

“When we revolt it’s not for a particular culture. We revolt simply because we can no longer breathe.” —FF

[Adam · Rating 3 out of 5]

Some very interesting points about the nature of fascism. Really enjoyed some of her essays, didn't really connect with some of them.

[Joe Bambridge · Rating 4 out of 5]

A nice collection of essays on the meaning of anti-fascism in its broadest sense, combining reportage, theory and self-reflection.

[Alexandra Seifert · Rating 2 out of 5]

Oh brother this guy stinks 🍅🍅🍅

[Bella Stenvall · Rating 3 out of 5]

Liked some essays more than others but “Riots for Black Lives” should be required reading and forced me to examine the roots of my own knee-jerk reactions to more violent forms of political resistance.

[Pavol Hardos · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a cool, if an uneven collection of 14 essays: some are great, and some are merely so-so.

Especially the essays on the far-right politics and resistance to it were great and I would recommend the following 5 to be read by everyone: "We, Anti-Fascists", "Riots for Black Life", "Homegrown", "Beyond Free Speech", & "Looking at Corpses".

And then there were also a couple of head-scratchers ("Ghost Stories", "Policing Desire") that honestly, I don't really understand wtf they were about.

[Michael · Rating 5 out of 5]

For anyone who considers themselves “woke”, this is definitely required reading. Natasha Lennard’s “Being Numerous: Essays on Non-Fascist Life” covers some of the most salient points in our political dialogue today. From the importance of protest and political identifications in Black Lives Matter and Antifa, to the social structures around queer identity, to the nature of rights and personhood related to justice, each essay is compelling. Lennard goes after many conventional thoughts and discussions that, by default, put the thinker or speaker on the side of the oppressor, even though they may not perceive it (‘good’ vs ‘bad’ protestors, or non-recognition of a ‘background state of violence’ for black Americans).
There is no questioning Lennard’s strong political leftism. But rather than simply argue the merits of leftist positions as politicians do, these essays more strongly elevate the discussion to focus on the structures, social fabrics, and capitalistic frameworks that are pre-determining the way we understand the merits of any left or right-leaning positions. That reframing helps diagnose how politically divided we have become, how ineffectual leftist movements have been in re-gaining democratic power, and how much we need to stop mistaking technical progress as a civilized, democratic, and fair society. Each essay provides a valuable point of discussion for any political or social thinkers.
My favorites essays:
- We, Anti-Fascists
o For understanding of leftist, democratic imperatives and the all-pervasiveness of fascist thought
- Ghost Stories
o For an expanded view on what defines reality
- Riots for Black Life
o For understanding the different world faced by black Americans seeking racial justice
- Know Your Rights
o For understanding the inherent contradictions in the idea of the “social contract” and the difference between rights and justice
- Policing Desire
o For a view on the problems between LGBTQ identity and radicalism
- Being Numerous
o For the techno-capitalist structures that are numbly leading us into dull, meaningless dystopia
Long quote from the Introduction, on Paul Virilio’s definition of “accidents” and its role in this dialogue:
“When you invent the ship, you also invent the shipwreck; when you invent the plane, you also invent the plane crash; and when you invent electricity, you invent electrocution,” he wrote. “Every technology carries its own negativity, which is invented at the same time as technical progress.” Invent the car, invent the car crash. Invent nuclear power, invent the H-bomb. Invent networked online communications, invent totalized, mutually enforced surveillance and even new modes of election fraud. The accident is not the inevitability – the advent of the car did not, of course, determine any given car crash – but it brought to life the possibility of such things, to which we are all too often blinded by the propaganda of progress as some smooth, unidirectional passage. Accidents happen; technical progress determines what kind of accidents can exist.
Virilio applied the concept of the “accident” to technological advance and its logic of acceleration. But the idea is useful broadly, when looking at the operations through which society, selves and power are produced and organized. For example, if the current growth of fascism is an accident, in a sense cribbed from Virilio, it is not because it is a diversion, antithetical to liberal capitalism. The accident was baked into the context.
What follows in this collection, written and updated over the last four years of my career as a columnist, journalist and essayist, is a series of pieces, each of which takes aim at how liberal, capitalist ideology – and its sometimes-fanatical commitment to Enlightenment promises – fails to address its own potential accidents and limitations…Unwilling to reckon with the accidents attendant on innovations they otherwise applaud, which are not mistakes, centrist ideologues fail to offer weapons, let alone a sturdy shield, against the fascism of the state, the white supremacist constellations it encourages, and the micro-fascisms that permeate daily life and habit. This book is a call for better weapons and an expansive understanding of the battlefield where oppressive systems hold territory in ever more brutal ways.” (pg. 3-4)

[Aumaine Rose · Rating 4 out of 5]

enjoyed the brief length yet sharpness of many of these looks into philosophy and radical politics. Always clear, sometimes wonderfully confounding, though many of the references here date to the aughts just before this was published, the ideas still feel compellingly fresh.

[Tale · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautiful reflections on resistance, life snd love in essays. Chapters 1, 4 and 8 especially sat with me. Chapters 3 and 9 are much needed analysis on our racist communities today.

[Kazen · Rating 3 out of 5]

These essays feel like they were pulled from different magazine pieces, and don't quite come together as a whole. While many touch on anti-fascism, including the first essay which acts as a great 101 introduction to the philosophy, others are completely unrelated. Lennard's essay about her two attempted suicides are worth it but the others, not so much.

I was most bothered by an essay about radicalism as far as sex is concerned. Lennard's ex believed that if you're radical in your politics you must be radically queer as well, but from the discussion I can't get a grasp of the bigger issues at play. I wanted her to step back and provide context beyond 'wow, my ex, amirite'.

In the end I'm glad I read the collection, but it won't be first on my list of recommended anti-fascist writing, with the possible exception of the first essay.

[KT · Rating 4 out of 5]

A small collection of short, thoughtful, well-written essays on life and struggles against fascism, mostly under the backdrop of Trump's election to presidency, and drawing from journalism, philosophy and pop culture

Highlights include:
How liberal appeals to truth and centrist ideologues will not break through to a fascist epistemology of power and domination, which need to be grasped to understand the necessity of confrontational tactics, such as the historical NIMBYism taken up by liberals and conservatives, in which it is only in the past, or in other countries, that violent militancy against white supremacy constitutes legitimate resistance - today's protesters are imprisoned while yesterday's insurrectionists are canonised

The metaphor of the ghost as indicative of inexplicable possibilities, which get ruled out as empirically impossible. The author believes we act better, when we don't work to fold every unusual phenomenon into a preexisting dogma. Rather it's a political imperative to believe (impossibly) that another world is possible, while necessarily being unable to explain that world from the confines to this one. Referencing Maggie Nelson summing up Wittgenstein's central concern: "inexpressible contained inexpressibly in the expressed

The status quo misframing of violence commits an error in tacit suggestion that there was a situation of nonviolence, or peace, from which to turn - any circumstance in which cops take black life with impunity, any context in which it is still necessary to state that Black Lives Matter is a background state of constant violence, especially when the institutions and vectors of white supremacy have never turned from structural violence, as Bernard Williams noted "to say peace when there is no peace is to say nothing."

The author's defense of individuals pursuit of equal rights and liberties within the archaic and oppressive system of marriage, given the problem lies with the operations of power with the state's hegemonic control over which people and sets of relationships get recognised

My personal favourite essay on "policing desire" that blends the author's own personal relationship with a former partner and the sexual politics
The author's thoughts on the common refrain of the personal is political is based on personhood rather than because personal choices being political choices (as neoliberal identity politics would offer), but because the very terrain of what gets to be a choice and what types of persons get to be choosers - what types of persons get to be - are shaped by political power. Then extending this to libidinal tastes and sexual desires, which exist following centuries of power operations determining our desiring tendencies, as well as the very terrain of what gets to be a choice, and who gets to be the chooser
A good discussion on the queer privilege (as defined by FuckTheory) as a marker of specialness, badge of honour, source of critical and moral authority rooted in the misunderstanding of Foucault and the incorrect link between the normativity of an act and its ethical valence i.e. there is nothing inherently connecting the normativity or abundance of a given act with its ethical weight
The inherent limitation to the so-called progressiveness of a porn landscape that is claimed to not privilege white bodies because terms such as "black" and "ebony" were among the top search terms as bodies are still primarily sought, categorised, and thus sexualised via their race, and when a pecuniary premium is still implemented on interracial scenes (almost always between a white woman and a Black man), inscribing racism, through the notion of taboo, into the porn business
Politics cannot be separated from sex as it fails to consider the representation of fsex and its role in constructing the truth of sex today

The importance of whether certain images of death serve to humanise or dehumanise the dead, as seen in the example of Emmett Till, whose mother Mamie Till redrew the power structure of the "them" and "we" who get to determine grievability when declaring "let them see" over the open casket of her son. This was note the case when the 2017 Whitney Biennial included an impressionistic paining of Emmett Till's casket surrounded by a blur of mourner by white artist Dana Shutz and entitled "Open Casket". In contrast, here, Black pain, was conferred on an exploitable "them", as artist and writer Hannah Black wrote: "it is not acceptable for a white person to transmute Black suffering into profit and fun...Through his mother's courage, Till was made available to Black people as an inspiration and warning. Non-Black people must accept that they will never embody and cannot understand this gesture: the evidence of their collective lack of understanding is that Black people go on dying at the hands of white supremacists."

Finally the critique of recounting every radical action live over social media, as the idea of taking the narrative of protest into one's own hands was inherently bold and provocative by refusing reliance on traditional media institutions. However following the Snowden revelations, smartphones capturing protests are not only a hindrance to, in this case, the crowd's purported effort to swarm Duarte Square during the halcyon days of Occupy Wall Street, but they were surveillance devices in themselves

[Jon Birondo · Rating 4 out of 5]

A sharp, brutal collection of essays that coherently connects the dots between the personal and the political, and how both are inextricably tied to each other.

[Clare · Rating 5 out of 5]

I decided to kick the 2020s off with Natasha Lennard's recently published Being Numerous: Essays on Non-Fascist Life. I have been following Lennard's journalism since at least her coverage of the J20 protests, where she only accidentally avoided being arrested herself.

Some of the essays in Being Numerous are reprints (usually with short updates appended), meaning I'd read some of them before, although not all of them. Several of the essays are about social movements directly--direct action, state suppression of dissent, anti-fascism, Standing Rock, all that newsy stuff--and these are definitely my favorites. Lennard stays around after most of the other journalists have gone home, chronicling the slow, painful grind of legal wrangling that drags on for months or years after the spectacles of water cannons and garbage cans on fire have dissipated, and with it, the nation's attention. She dives into the philosophical questions of state and non-state violence, what direct action and protest are for, surveillance and visibility, the wrongheadedness of the "good protester/bad protester" dichotomy (a thing that some of my friends also have strong opinions about, and about which I myself am developing stronger opinions by the day), the limitations of (still very important) liberal ideas about individual rights and free speech, and a fairly impressive range of other serious concepts given how short the book is (about 130 pages). She cites a lot of old leftist writers, and a lot of contemporary leftists on Twitter, and all of it is germane.

Some of the essays are not about protest but they are still political, even when you wouldn't initially think they would be. One is about a ghost that haunts the bathroom in her parents' house; Lennard uses this as a case study for a philosophical discussion about meaning, truth, objectivity, subjectivity, possibility, and why the New Atheists were so fucking obnoxious. The essay about sex and her terrible ex-boyfriend turns out to be about the use and misuse of the idea that the personal is political, the emptiness of conflating individual lifestyle choice with radical political action, and sexual commodification. (Having met my share of dudes, starting at way too young an age, who tried to argue me into sleeping with them by painting it as part of some grand emancipatory political project, I found this essay to be an especially satisfying takedown of that line of thinking.)

Being Numerous can be a little disjointed at time because it goes so many different places in a pretty short space, and I found it worth it to only read one or two essays at a time, then put the book down and go to do something else. Part of this is because otherwise you get mental whiplash jumping between subjects so much, but some of it is also because each essay is thought-provoking enough that I wanted to sit with it a bit before moving along to the next thing. I don't really bother to do that too much anymore, so it really says something about how insightful Lennard's analyses are that I did.

Originally posted at Toward anti-fascisting.

[AK · Rating 3 out of 5]

This collection of essays is a good introduction to Natasha Lennard's work for those unfamiliar with her journalism on protest and the limits of liberalism. If you're familiar with her work, this slim collection contains mostly(?) previously published work, but it's still worth reading, and it moves quickly.

Tash and I ran in the same circles during Occupy, and I've been reading her work since the olden days of 2011, when terms like "antifa" were unlikely to be discussed by the mainstream media. Much has changed in the political landscape since then but the basic contours of her writing remain the same- the failures of liberalism, the connections between liberalism and fascism, the overreach of the state and the ways that radical protest makes this overreach visible. Also covered, sex and politics, suicidal ideation, ghosts.

As much as I'm mostly in tune with the political project that these writings support, and as glad as I am that there is a voice like this making its way to readers outside of the rarified circles of NYC anarchists, I'm always left a little cold by Lennard's writing. Perhaps just because I'm so familiar with the world that leads to this type of journalism and I'm wanting something a little deeper, something more... essayistic? As an example, she begins the essay "Being Numerous" by talking about a photo from a small action during Occupy. At first glance, it's a mass of protestors charging at a fence that's blocking off a public park, facing off with the cops on the other side, but at further glance, it's clear that only a very few of the protestors are actually trying to do something about the fence, most of them have their smartphones out to record the action. This is fascinating to me, something I would love to hear Lennard thoughts on- how has technology changed protest, our presence at protests, our participation, what we want from it. For surveillance was everywhere, on all sides; we were filmed by cops, livestreamers of indeterminate politics, by fellow protestors, by mysterious cameras on buildings. But the essay goes on to discuss the Snowden revelations about the extent of government surveillance, and it's a good synthesis of those issues and the ways they've been discussed since 2014 or so, but I didn't learn anything new from this piece, in the end. I suppose I wanted something else from this piece because there are more than a few journalists who can write on government surveillance, on the California ideology, etc, but there are few who are as deeply involved with radical politics as Lennard is, and it seems that somewhere out there, there are real insights that perhaps only she could come up with. But they aren't here.

It was also interesting that this book ended with the essay on suicide. One of her other writerly habits is a strong reliance on critical theorists and the vocabulary of theory (see the ghost essay), but this last essay find Lennard grappling with the limits of theory. Without any Big Names to fall back on, she's forced to reckon more deeply with her own experience, and it's one of the more powerful pieces in the book.

[Kenny · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is now one of my favourite books, and I regret not having set the time aside to read it sooner. Lennard's prose is such a joy to read, and her way of approaching contemporary leftist political struggles is down-to-earth in a way that many theorists I read simply are not. Her in-depth investigative journalism draws out many key facts around struggles like Standing Rock and their long-term effects on the communities that engaged with them. These are stories that deserve to be told, and it takes someone with Lennard's diligence and incisiveness to tell them right.

Her article on 'revolutionary' sex was an especially welcome read. I've encountered many comrades who seem simply to think that polyamorous, queer or other non-normative relationships are inherently radical, and each time been completely unconvinced by them. There are radical ways of navigating these relationships - for instance, in recognising someone systematically oppressed as your equal, and making that the reality of your relation to them. But polyamorous relationships can be just as oppressive as they can be liberatory; they are more likely to be the former when sought out under the guise of performative liberation.

I disagreed with a lot of what Lennard had to say. She has a strong faith in democracy which I don't share. Bordiga gets almost everything wrong, but I think here he's dead right: "Bourgeois electoral democracy seeks the consultation of the masses, for it knows that the response of the majority will always be favourable to the privileged class and will readily delegate to that class the right to govern and to perpetuate exploitation." I'm also not so convinced that she's right to hedge her bets in movements like Occupy. What was their actual long-term result? I do like her approach to protests though: they are not revolutionary (often the opposite) but they can give people a chance to muster and create a movement which can become revolutionary in another mode.

The last essay in the collection resonated strongly with me. I have long thought about the concepts we use to describe and discuss suicide, and I appreciated Lennard's candour in stating that she thinks most instances of successful self-killing were the right choice for the person. I even find myself agreeing strongly with a lot of her reasons for this. The only thing I disagreed with was her interpretation of Hume as a rationalist about suicide!

It almost goes without saying that non-Western politics is not at all a part of this book. That's a big drawback, but also not an unexpected one since Lennard's work is as an American and British journalist. Many journalists from both countries do, of course, engage with non-Western political struggles, but they are really the exception and not the norm. One would do better to take issue with the field of insular Western journalism than with Lennard on this matter.

[Max · Rating 4 out of 5]

“[I]s it not cruel to demand peace from those who are not permitted to live in it?” Natasha Lennard asks us, in a recurring theme of the essay collection: that of which methods should be considered acceptable in the fight against fascism and oppression. Against the useless (and complicit) liberal view that fascism gets defeated at the ballot box and through courteous debates, Lennard reminds us what successful past resistance has needed to involve, refusing to engage in the “historic NIMBYism” which only accepts confrontational and violent activist tactics if they happened sometime or somewhere else. As she puts it at her most quotable:

The problem we face, then, is not so much that of necessary violence as it is one of impossible nonviolence.

Lennard also uses a number of lenses, from perceptive media criticism to recent critical theory to Wittgenstein’s philosophical innovations, to cover a variety of other topics; these include highly personal texts on abuse, suicide, ghosts.

It is especially when these come together that the essays are most engaging. For instance, when discussing the fake weaponed radicalism of an ex, Lennard eviscerates his (and others radicals') adoption of the “neoliberal identity politics” which mistakenly considers that

Who you are is held stable, while your personal choices are deemed political.

In Being Numerous, the self is never stable - instead, it is dialectically interwoven with close ones, communities, social structures, activist organisations, technology. As for the political, it extends far beyond personal choices (and limits them). These essays are both a valuable radical corrective for liberal inadequacies and a thought-prompting set of reflections on fundamental questions.

[Diana]

"We cannot simply be anti-fascist; we must also practice and make better habits, forms of life. Rather than as a noun or adjective, 'anti-fascist' as a gerund verb: a constant effort of 'anti-fascisting' against the fascisms that even we ourselves uphold. Working to create nonhierarchical ways of living, working to undo our own privileges and desires for power. The individualized and detached Self, the over-codings of family-unit normativity, the authoritarian tendency of careerism—all of them paranoic sites of micro-fascism in need of anti-fascist care. Again, easier said than done. But better a faulty approach to anti-fascism that frames it as some pure position, when it is anything but. We act against fascists in the knowledge we need to act against ourselves, too."⁣
⁣
A short book that a fierce critique of liberal politics (centrism?) in Trump's America, Natasha Lennard turns an unflinching eye to the hypocrisy in what we choose to name (protesters in Black Lives Matter or Occupy protests) as violence & what we don't (police brutality, the state apparatus). The book looks at the mass arrests of protestors at Standing Rock that face a racist, punitive justice system, to the policing & managing of partnership in relation to borders, to how it's insufficient to simply believe that engaging in non-normative sex acts are inherently "radical" (this chapter was a bit hmm for me though but couldnt place why), to how surveillance has permeated our existence, to how white corpses are rarely seen or disseminated in the media while brown & black corpses are often reduced to spectacle . My only complaint is that the essays towards the end start to taper & are not as deep & substantive as her earlier essays.⁣

[Marty · Rating 3 out of 5]

I can't say that I especially enjoyed this book, but I do think that (parts of) it were necessary. Combating fascism whenever and however one can is absolutely vital, and becoming more so all the time. There were some brilliant essays in here on Black Lives Matter, the big tech surveillance state, and the inherently harmful notions of "good vs bad protester" that even liberals often succumb to. I think it's important to understand the philosophy behind anti-fascism, and this provides a good basis. I do recommend it for the good things.

That said, in places it is incredibly dense and not very accessible. The opening essays especially assume you go in well-versed in theory; there's a lot of references to Foucault and Derrida. In fact, this is less of a guidebook on how to be an anti-fascist and more a collection of thoughts surrounding anti-fascist theory and how it applies to various causes. What bothered me more than that, though, were the fact that some of the essays were only tangentially related at best to anti-fascism. There are a handful of personal essays about the author's experiences with abuse and suicide that, while important to the author's background and perspective, didn't give me a better understanding of the subject at hand. To me they just didn't gel with the rest of the collection. Which is a shame, because they were often the most coherent.

[Matthew · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lennard's collection of essays covers the gamut of left political thinking in this moment. It opens with a deliberatiion on the use of violence against fascists and moves onto the effects of how we frame riots, the rise of state suppression of protest (and the grinding legal battles still playing out in result of this), rights discourse, state sanctioned marriage as a lifeless asset merger, our relationship with surveillance in the current technocapital state, and more. While most of the book dives into current political topics, the collection includes several more personal and philosophical essays such as a story of ghosts as a frame for understanding subjectivity and our cultural perception of truth as well as a story of an ex-partner as an avenue to discuss the use of radical sexual politics as an avenue for abuse.

The book was an easy read and can be taken essay-by-essay in standalone pieces. It's strength as a collection is that it encapsulates this particular political moment well in its selection of themes and its ability to express a particular view point on them in such a short space. I think it will make great reference in years to come into where our discourse was centered in the late 2010s.

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

I can see why people like this book and it is particularly the darling of anarchist communities in its anti-statist approach. Lennard artfully intertwines reportage and theory in her best pieces such as fusing Judith Butler’s theory of grievability with that of the spectacle-driven parade of dead black bodies on the news. Her best pieces theorize In a sophisticated manner fascism, surveillance, and other concerns. Sometimes the pieces feel like fillers such as the critique of polyamory, which is deserved, but adds nothing new to critiques that women’s lib groups made in the 1970s. Is it worth repeating to a new generation? Absolutely. Should it be the final cut in a collection of essays that often soars above such pedestrian observations? You can decide. But collections are often inherently uneven. Honestly, I didn’t expect to like the writing as much as I did. Lennard is a skillful writer and mostly accessible. (I’m debating having my undergrads read some of her stuff). Either way, I’m appreciative of a younger writer theorizing the present in compelling ways