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The Ugly History of Beautiful Things: Essays on Desire and Consumption
Exploring our obsession with gorgeous things, unveiling the fraught histories of makeup, flowers, perfume, silk, and other beautiful objects.
Katy Kelleher has spent much of her life chasing beauty. As a child, she uprooted handfuls of purple, fragrant little flowers from the earth, plucked iridescent seashells from the beach, and dug for turquoise stones in her backyard. As a teenager she applied glittery shimmer to her eyelids after religiously dabbing on her signature scent of orange blossoms and jasmine. And as an adult, she coveted gleaming marble countertops and delicate porcelain to beautify her home. This obsession with beauty led her to become a home, garden, and design writer, where she studied how beautiful things are mined, grown, made, and enhanced. In researching these objects, Kelleher concluded that most of us are blind to the true cost of our desires. Because whenever you find something unbearably beautiful, look closer, and you’ll inevitably find a shadow of decay lurking underneath.
In these dazzling and deeply researched essays, Katy Kelleher blends science, history, and memoir to uncover the dark underbellies of our favorite goods. She reveals the crushed beetle shells in our lipstick, the musk of rodents in our perfume, and the burnt cow bones baked into our dishware. She untangles the secret history of silk and muses on her problematic prom dress. She tells the story of countless workers dying in their efforts to bring us shiny rocks from unsafe mines that shatter and wound the earth, all because a diamond company created a compelling ad. She examines the enduring appeal of the beautiful dead girl and the sad fate of the ugly mollusk. With prose as stunning as the objects she describes, Kelleher invites readers to examine their own relationships with the beautiful objects that adorn their body and grace their homes.
And yet, Kelleher argues that while we have a moral imperative to understand our relationship to desire, we are not evil or weak for desiring beauty. The Ugly History of Beautiful Things opens our eyes to beauty that surrounds us, helps us understand how that beauty came to be, what price was paid and by whom, and how we can most ethically partake in the beauty of the world.
Katy Kelleher has spent much of her life chasing beauty. As a child, she uprooted handfuls of purple, fragrant little flowers from the earth, plucked iridescent seashells from the beach, and dug for turquoise stones in her backyard. As a teenager she applied glittery shimmer to her eyelids after religiously dabbing on her signature scent of orange blossoms and jasmine. And as an adult, she coveted gleaming marble countertops and delicate porcelain to beautify her home. This obsession with beauty led her to become a home, garden, and design writer, where she studied how beautiful things are mined, grown, made, and enhanced. In researching these objects, Kelleher concluded that most of us are blind to the true cost of our desires. Because whenever you find something unbearably beautiful, look closer, and you’ll inevitably find a shadow of decay lurking underneath.
In these dazzling and deeply researched essays, Katy Kelleher blends science, history, and memoir to uncover the dark underbellies of our favorite goods. She reveals the crushed beetle shells in our lipstick, the musk of rodents in our perfume, and the burnt cow bones baked into our dishware. She untangles the secret history of silk and muses on her problematic prom dress. She tells the story of countless workers dying in their efforts to bring us shiny rocks from unsafe mines that shatter and wound the earth, all because a diamond company created a compelling ad. She examines the enduring appeal of the beautiful dead girl and the sad fate of the ugly mollusk. With prose as stunning as the objects she describes, Kelleher invites readers to examine their own relationships with the beautiful objects that adorn their body and grace their homes.
And yet, Kelleher argues that while we have a moral imperative to understand our relationship to desire, we are not evil or weak for desiring beauty. The Ugly History of Beautiful Things opens our eyes to beauty that surrounds us, helps us understand how that beauty came to be, what price was paid and by whom, and how we can most ethically partake in the beauty of the world.
271 pages, Kindle Edition
First published April 25, 2023
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 187 reviews
December 12, 2023
I was so excited about this book. It sounded tailor made for me and I’ve followed the author online for a long time. I love the history of objects and reading about our personal connections to them.
I just didn’t really enjoy it. I wish she had decided to write a memoir about her mixed feelings about these objects with just a tiny bit of history or done a really well-researched history book instead. Instead we get her sort of rambling about the history of the object without really delving in because she covers hundreds and even thousands of years in a handful of pages and then shoehorns in some connection to herself. I thought some of her examples and tangents were odd and not fleshed out enough.
For example:
In a single 20-page chapter she discusses: a friend’s story about her family in WWII era Germany, her own pre-WWII family’s immigration from Germany, her mother’s china collection, the fall of popularity of collecting sets of expensive dishes, china vs porcelain, the Silk Road, the possible cross border history of blue and white vases/dinnerware, Madame de Pompadour’s love of pink, the vegan refusal of bone china, the rise of the woman’s magazine and the middle class, Queen Victoria’s drug habit, the opium trade and the role of the British empire, how plates are made, the German love of porcelain and Himmler’s involvement in a porcelain factory, a recent Seattle ceramic artist who turned out to be a Holocaust denier, the desire for whiteness in dinnerware and elsewhere, doll faces and how they possibly influenced a feeling of white supremacy in the 18th century, her discomfort in discussing whiteness, the specter of Eva Braun’s tableware despite its “cottagecore” look, contrasts a restaurant plate and a chipped Fiestaware in a dorm room (a fairly expensive and collectible dish so I’m not sure why she used to to convey cheapness? Shabbiness?), the emotional associations with color, her personal collections and religion and “conservatism” around ritualized events, how most of her collection is from Europe and has hand-painted flowers that are not dissimilar to Eva Braun’s dish, she talks about how she could branch out into other dishware and how but she doesn’t want to, another woman’s newsletter and her thoughts around home and growing up in the LDS church, some discussion about mothers and the home. All of the chapters are like this.
It could have worked with some detail and some editing. It was clear each of these ideas could have been a book on their own. Instead, it ended up being a bit of a stream of consciousness mess. As the book stands it’s not really a full memoir or history of these objects and as a result the author fails to deliver a satisfying book. I felt like it was both bloated with facts and that I learned nothing of substance.
I just didn’t really enjoy it. I wish she had decided to write a memoir about her mixed feelings about these objects with just a tiny bit of history or done a really well-researched history book instead. Instead we get her sort of rambling about the history of the object without really delving in because she covers hundreds and even thousands of years in a handful of pages and then shoehorns in some connection to herself. I thought some of her examples and tangents were odd and not fleshed out enough.
For example:
In a single 20-page chapter she discusses: a friend’s story about her family in WWII era Germany, her own pre-WWII family’s immigration from Germany, her mother’s china collection, the fall of popularity of collecting sets of expensive dishes, china vs porcelain, the Silk Road, the possible cross border history of blue and white vases/dinnerware, Madame de Pompadour’s love of pink, the vegan refusal of bone china, the rise of the woman’s magazine and the middle class, Queen Victoria’s drug habit, the opium trade and the role of the British empire, how plates are made, the German love of porcelain and Himmler’s involvement in a porcelain factory, a recent Seattle ceramic artist who turned out to be a Holocaust denier, the desire for whiteness in dinnerware and elsewhere, doll faces and how they possibly influenced a feeling of white supremacy in the 18th century, her discomfort in discussing whiteness, the specter of Eva Braun’s tableware despite its “cottagecore” look, contrasts a restaurant plate and a chipped Fiestaware in a dorm room (a fairly expensive and collectible dish so I’m not sure why she used to to convey cheapness? Shabbiness?), the emotional associations with color, her personal collections and religion and “conservatism” around ritualized events, how most of her collection is from Europe and has hand-painted flowers that are not dissimilar to Eva Braun’s dish, she talks about how she could branch out into other dishware and how but she doesn’t want to, another woman’s newsletter and her thoughts around home and growing up in the LDS church, some discussion about mothers and the home. All of the chapters are like this.
It could have worked with some detail and some editing. It was clear each of these ideas could have been a book on their own. Instead, it ended up being a bit of a stream of consciousness mess. As the book stands it’s not really a full memoir or history of these objects and as a result the author fails to deliver a satisfying book. I felt like it was both bloated with facts and that I learned nothing of substance.
April 16, 2023
I’m so torn on this book. I think I desperately want to like it more than I did, but I don’t hate it and enjoyed reading it more than I didn’t.
The positives - this is a collection of essays that muses on some of the beautiful things people love. It looks at the history, often full of oppression and death, of those beautiful things and the modern problems associated with the creation and consumption of beautiful things. I really enjoyed this part and even learned some interesting things about objects I teach that I didn’t know. I liked the variety of things - from flowers to perfume to glass - and I thought the author’s opening personal remarks in each section added to the overall essay every time.
The bad - toward the end of each essay these got *really* preachy. I understand the ugly parts that need to be pointed out - like child labor in silk manufacturing - but this preachy bit went on for way too long. It also almost always ended with how the author wasn’t fully participating in the consumption anymore and that made each essay feel like a way she was patting herself on the back for being better than the rest of us. Without this preachy bit, this book would have been over 4 stars for me.
Overall, I liked this collection of essays more than I didn’t like it and I’m always down to learn more, so if the preachy parts won’t get to you or you can skip them, you may enjoy this collection which comes out later this month!
The positives - this is a collection of essays that muses on some of the beautiful things people love. It looks at the history, often full of oppression and death, of those beautiful things and the modern problems associated with the creation and consumption of beautiful things. I really enjoyed this part and even learned some interesting things about objects I teach that I didn’t know. I liked the variety of things - from flowers to perfume to glass - and I thought the author’s opening personal remarks in each section added to the overall essay every time.
The bad - toward the end of each essay these got *really* preachy. I understand the ugly parts that need to be pointed out - like child labor in silk manufacturing - but this preachy bit went on for way too long. It also almost always ended with how the author wasn’t fully participating in the consumption anymore and that made each essay feel like a way she was patting herself on the back for being better than the rest of us. Without this preachy bit, this book would have been over 4 stars for me.
Overall, I liked this collection of essays more than I didn’t like it and I’m always down to learn more, so if the preachy parts won’t get to you or you can skip them, you may enjoy this collection which comes out later this month!
December 30, 2022
This was such a lovely and wide-ranging collection—I loved how expansive each essay was, spinning a theme from an object and then reaching out to include other related objects in that web. The whole book was thoughtful and for some reason calming, like taking a deep breath and looking at something very closely, for as long as I needed to really see it.
April 11, 2024
as I said to a friend around the 60% mark: you can’t pass off anxiety as critical thinking! believe me, I’ve tried.
one is reminded of the joke about the centrist rally where the attendees chant “a better world isn’t possible;” but in this case dressed up as a loving acceptance of the world we live in now. the line that “there is no ethical consumption under capitalism” is not new; neither is “yeah, but it is legal and free to not put time and energy into writing a paragraph admiring how blood diamonds look”. no one is asking for self-flagellation or a life devoid of pleasure. in fact it’s clear that pleasure and beauty are abundant in the world, entirely separate from the capitalist pressures to consume diamond rings, scentless roses, pearl necklaces, prom dresses, white porcelain dishes, marble statues—it’s abundantly clear in this very book that to consume a Product is in fact to deliberately unplug yourself from your body and relocate your sensed experience into whatever experience has been promised you by a brand, which has neither tongue nor ears nor eyes and knows neither shit nor fuck about which it speaks.
what I think we are running up against is that there is a difference between the place where beauty overlaps with wealth—splendor, glamour, sumptuousness, majesty—and the place where wealth concerns itself with the act of spectacle—extravagance, pomp—and I don't know that Kelleher knows that. it’s often said that the difference between a glamorous person and a merely rich one is old money versus new, but it isn’t, is it—I think the thing that divides them is whether one sees the world through one’s own eyes, or only through the eyes of one’s class. naturally class is a part of one’s self and I don’t say it isn’t, but the way this manifests is that, you know, Diana dressed like a very wealthy woman, which she was; Charles dresses like his soul was designed by a very wealthy committee, which it is. jockeying with girl “friends” over whose wedding ring is the biggest diamond is really definitionally declaring oneself a member of Charles’ party.
or, put differently: I read the section where she describes exactly how much white guilt she feels and when, and then says sighingly that she can’t help it, she DOES just love European-made porcelain, and she COULD acquire ethically made American dishes, because it’s POSSIBLE to train yourself to appreciate new forms of beauty, but she would feel like such a faker and besides she already has the stuff she has now so it would be wasteful—offputting defensiveness aside: when it comes to having a sense of taste, no quantity of sincere aesthetic enjoyment can make up for a lack of curiosity. it certainly can’t make up for dismissing curiosity as “training yourself to appreciate” something.
every chapter in this book—I hesitate to call them "personal essays", which implies anecdotes longer than a paragraph, or at least conclusions drawn from them that are more substantial than a sentence at the end of that paragraph—every chapter in this book follows the pattern of 1. tracing the human cost of a consumer item; 2. an extended flinch at the idea of caring about this Too Much; 3. mentioning the author’s personal history with that item; and 4. in a mature, nuanced tone, either defending the consumption of that item as part of the flawed, irrational, essentially animal and pleasure-seeking human experience, or noting the author’s individual choice to stop consuming that item, which apparently registers for her as a satisfying place to end the discussion. she nods briefly in some chapters at the idea of not buying lots of things in general; the tone of these passages is similar to the tone people use when they’re telling you how much better they feel now that they’re doing keto. I don’t mean to stereotype here, but there’s a part where she lists the few things that she liked about growing up Catholic, and one is “the clean feeling after confession”, and in the way one does, I had sort of guessed that already.
I think I had trouble with the strong sense that Kelleher just does not really have a sense of proportion of pain. it is of course to some extent natural for your own feelings to take up lots of your field of vision, because things being big when they are close to you is how perspective works. but it is also your job to understand that the reader is at an equal emotional distance from you and everyone else in the world. and that even if you are ostensibly on the right side of an issue, it is a losing proposition to describe crimes against humanity in lurid detail in one paragraph, discuss your wedding in the next, and expect me to want to follow the thread of you for the rest of the essay. this is a basic narrative problem. the stakes just aren’t where they were before you described people being stripped naked and chained up, Katy!
there’s another part where she discusses going to a gun show, browsing the craft fair section, and unexpectedly coming across Nazi memorabilia, and she describes feeling “queasy and complicit, guilty of looking too hard at something too dark”. the pervasive feeling in this book is very much an anxiety that by looking at and liking certain things, one is committing thoughtcrimes. the book is, in its own way I guess, attempting to reckon maturely and thoughtfully with when the guilt from those is unjustified, when it is justified, and what to do about it in the latter case. the trouble is that thoughtcrimes are not real, and while I have a lot of personal sympathy for dealing with them, I am not going to entertain the idea that they have a place in serious moral discussion between adults. it’s not really fair for me to identify this with needing to leave the church in your head—I know what it is, which is needing to get an A in liking stuff, something that it’s normal to want and possible to achieve. shortly after the gun show story she confesses that “although I’ve written dozens of articles about colors… I’ve never felt particularly comfortable writing about white.” please be fucking serious.
anyway, there is a decent quantity of research put into this. much of it—the human rights violations—is rattled off in a breathless, panicked, defensive rush, but much is not, and that stuff was fun to learn.
this book made me intensely reflective on the question of whether it is possible to live according to a non-materialist hedonism. as a practicing homosexual I am basically loyal to the pursuit of aesthetic pleasure as a higher good, but on the other hand, the beauty-as-material-things discussed in this book is so narrow-minded, provincial, self-obsessed, reactive, defensive, empty, and shallow that one feels quite strongly that [infomercial voice] there has to be a better way.
one is reminded of the joke about the centrist rally where the attendees chant “a better world isn’t possible;” but in this case dressed up as a loving acceptance of the world we live in now. the line that “there is no ethical consumption under capitalism” is not new; neither is “yeah, but it is legal and free to not put time and energy into writing a paragraph admiring how blood diamonds look”. no one is asking for self-flagellation or a life devoid of pleasure. in fact it’s clear that pleasure and beauty are abundant in the world, entirely separate from the capitalist pressures to consume diamond rings, scentless roses, pearl necklaces, prom dresses, white porcelain dishes, marble statues—it’s abundantly clear in this very book that to consume a Product is in fact to deliberately unplug yourself from your body and relocate your sensed experience into whatever experience has been promised you by a brand, which has neither tongue nor ears nor eyes and knows neither shit nor fuck about which it speaks.
what I think we are running up against is that there is a difference between the place where beauty overlaps with wealth—splendor, glamour, sumptuousness, majesty—and the place where wealth concerns itself with the act of spectacle—extravagance, pomp—and I don't know that Kelleher knows that. it’s often said that the difference between a glamorous person and a merely rich one is old money versus new, but it isn’t, is it—I think the thing that divides them is whether one sees the world through one’s own eyes, or only through the eyes of one’s class. naturally class is a part of one’s self and I don’t say it isn’t, but the way this manifests is that, you know, Diana dressed like a very wealthy woman, which she was; Charles dresses like his soul was designed by a very wealthy committee, which it is. jockeying with girl “friends” over whose wedding ring is the biggest diamond is really definitionally declaring oneself a member of Charles’ party.
or, put differently: I read the section where she describes exactly how much white guilt she feels and when, and then says sighingly that she can’t help it, she DOES just love European-made porcelain, and she COULD acquire ethically made American dishes, because it’s POSSIBLE to train yourself to appreciate new forms of beauty, but she would feel like such a faker and besides she already has the stuff she has now so it would be wasteful—offputting defensiveness aside: when it comes to having a sense of taste, no quantity of sincere aesthetic enjoyment can make up for a lack of curiosity. it certainly can’t make up for dismissing curiosity as “training yourself to appreciate” something.
every chapter in this book—I hesitate to call them "personal essays", which implies anecdotes longer than a paragraph, or at least conclusions drawn from them that are more substantial than a sentence at the end of that paragraph—every chapter in this book follows the pattern of 1. tracing the human cost of a consumer item; 2. an extended flinch at the idea of caring about this Too Much; 3. mentioning the author’s personal history with that item; and 4. in a mature, nuanced tone, either defending the consumption of that item as part of the flawed, irrational, essentially animal and pleasure-seeking human experience, or noting the author’s individual choice to stop consuming that item, which apparently registers for her as a satisfying place to end the discussion. she nods briefly in some chapters at the idea of not buying lots of things in general; the tone of these passages is similar to the tone people use when they’re telling you how much better they feel now that they’re doing keto. I don’t mean to stereotype here, but there’s a part where she lists the few things that she liked about growing up Catholic, and one is “the clean feeling after confession”, and in the way one does, I had sort of guessed that already.
I think I had trouble with the strong sense that Kelleher just does not really have a sense of proportion of pain. it is of course to some extent natural for your own feelings to take up lots of your field of vision, because things being big when they are close to you is how perspective works. but it is also your job to understand that the reader is at an equal emotional distance from you and everyone else in the world. and that even if you are ostensibly on the right side of an issue, it is a losing proposition to describe crimes against humanity in lurid detail in one paragraph, discuss your wedding in the next, and expect me to want to follow the thread of you for the rest of the essay. this is a basic narrative problem. the stakes just aren’t where they were before you described people being stripped naked and chained up, Katy!
there’s another part where she discusses going to a gun show, browsing the craft fair section, and unexpectedly coming across Nazi memorabilia, and she describes feeling “queasy and complicit, guilty of looking too hard at something too dark”. the pervasive feeling in this book is very much an anxiety that by looking at and liking certain things, one is committing thoughtcrimes. the book is, in its own way I guess, attempting to reckon maturely and thoughtfully with when the guilt from those is unjustified, when it is justified, and what to do about it in the latter case. the trouble is that thoughtcrimes are not real, and while I have a lot of personal sympathy for dealing with them, I am not going to entertain the idea that they have a place in serious moral discussion between adults. it’s not really fair for me to identify this with needing to leave the church in your head—I know what it is, which is needing to get an A in liking stuff, something that it’s normal to want and possible to achieve. shortly after the gun show story she confesses that “although I’ve written dozens of articles about colors… I’ve never felt particularly comfortable writing about white.” please be fucking serious.
anyway, there is a decent quantity of research put into this. much of it—the human rights violations—is rattled off in a breathless, panicked, defensive rush, but much is not, and that stuff was fun to learn.
this book made me intensely reflective on the question of whether it is possible to live according to a non-materialist hedonism. as a practicing homosexual I am basically loyal to the pursuit of aesthetic pleasure as a higher good, but on the other hand, the beauty-as-material-things discussed in this book is so narrow-minded, provincial, self-obsessed, reactive, defensive, empty, and shallow that one feels quite strongly that [infomercial voice] there has to be a better way.
January 6, 2023
I relished each essay in this collection. One can stand alone or they can weave together. I enjoy learning and especially enjoy learning through beautiful writing. In reference to the latter, it is poetic and sparse; it is an expansive journey. In reference to the former, we read about the histories of objects, people, thoughts, fashions, trends - many of which I never thought to seek the origin of but which I enjoyed learning about and digesting, like savoring a curated selection of scones, tea sandwiches, and sweets.
A few of the collection's later essays resonated more profoundly and I especially loved this description in chapter 9: “I think that’s what happens when you close off discussion of family history, good and bad. You create people who feel estranged. To some, being unattached can feel like freedom. If you aren’t part of any particular lineage of violence, you’re not responsible for undoing any harms. You don’t owe anything to anyone. I want to owe people though. I want to be more entangled in community and history. I want to break bread with people and feel the glow of hospitality, the warmth that comes with giving and receiving. I want to set a table for friends and welcome people in."
The writer's presence in her writing of beauty, ugliness - her grappling with her feelings of what is handed down to us as beautiful but within which we might find a reflection of that object's ugly history - offers a warmth to these essays. It offers a sense that the writer felt that in sifting through these complex topics she owed us, her readers, something too. It invites me to be curious about what I owe - to whom, to history, to the future, to myself. I finished the book feeling the desire for ownership and accountability and the need to continue to overturn stones that we've allowed to settle comfortably into the dirt. Perhaps we need to turn over more of these stones. We might find a worm crushed by the magnificent weight or a wayward seedling waiting for the sun's warmth to finally reach it.
A few of the collection's later essays resonated more profoundly and I especially loved this description in chapter 9: “I think that’s what happens when you close off discussion of family history, good and bad. You create people who feel estranged. To some, being unattached can feel like freedom. If you aren’t part of any particular lineage of violence, you’re not responsible for undoing any harms. You don’t owe anything to anyone. I want to owe people though. I want to be more entangled in community and history. I want to break bread with people and feel the glow of hospitality, the warmth that comes with giving and receiving. I want to set a table for friends and welcome people in."
The writer's presence in her writing of beauty, ugliness - her grappling with her feelings of what is handed down to us as beautiful but within which we might find a reflection of that object's ugly history - offers a warmth to these essays. It offers a sense that the writer felt that in sifting through these complex topics she owed us, her readers, something too. It invites me to be curious about what I owe - to whom, to history, to the future, to myself. I finished the book feeling the desire for ownership and accountability and the need to continue to overturn stones that we've allowed to settle comfortably into the dirt. Perhaps we need to turn over more of these stones. We might find a worm crushed by the magnificent weight or a wayward seedling waiting for the sun's warmth to finally reach it.
dnf
August 16, 2023I was very intrigued by the premise of this book and think I was a target audience. However, this ended up being a mix of a memoir and history that felt a bit like a stream of consciousness.
Since they are essays, they don’t go as in-depth as I had hoped, and therefore the analysis feels a bit superficial. I think I’d rather dive into the source material that is referenced. Though I do really love this idea, I only made it 50 pages in since I realized I was skimming for parts that interested me.
Since they are essays, they don’t go as in-depth as I had hoped, and therefore the analysis feels a bit superficial. I think I’d rather dive into the source material that is referenced. Though I do really love this idea, I only made it 50 pages in since I realized I was skimming for parts that interested me.
January 7, 2023
I really don't know how to classify this book: a personal history? Essay? The ever-present catch-all of general nonfiction? Philosophy?
It truly is a little bit of everything. Somehow, the work sucked me in, and again. Thinking about the quotidian objects in our lives in a new way challenged my view of my own day to day life. The impact of those objects may be positive or negative, but Kelleher's biggest success is making us even consider them. I can't really say I've thought too much about the mirrors in my home, other than from the standpoint of vanity. However, the author is able to take it deeper. The meditations on gloss and glitter made me think about the ways in which our outside self project an argument, even if we may not intrinsically thinking about it. Even the chapter on silk (humorously entitled "Women and worms") made me rethink fabric as well.
As a cisgender, heterosexual male, I even found a lot to ruminate about. The implicit argument that I picked up on is that there is are deeper structures to our society that may not be noticeable without some reflection. You don't have to wear silk to understand it
It truly is a little bit of everything. Somehow, the work sucked me in, and again. Thinking about the quotidian objects in our lives in a new way challenged my view of my own day to day life. The impact of those objects may be positive or negative, but Kelleher's biggest success is making us even consider them. I can't really say I've thought too much about the mirrors in my home, other than from the standpoint of vanity. However, the author is able to take it deeper. The meditations on gloss and glitter made me think about the ways in which our outside self project an argument, even if we may not intrinsically thinking about it. Even the chapter on silk (humorously entitled "Women and worms") made me rethink fabric as well.
As a cisgender, heterosexual male, I even found a lot to ruminate about. The implicit argument that I picked up on is that there is are deeper structures to our society that may not be noticeable without some reflection. You don't have to wear silk to understand it
May 20, 2023
Do you like science and Ottessa Moshfegh? Then the crazy sexy vibe the author is going for might work for you. If you weren't looking for unhinged memoir, and were here for culture and science, nope out of this one. Michael Pollan's 'Botany of Desire' or 'Cleopatra's Nose' are for you.
August 22, 2023
In The Ugly History Of Beautiful Things by Katie Kelleher I was excited and couldn’t wait to read this book as I thought it was history and nonfiction it turns out it is more like an autobiography and I almost stopped reading in the first chapter reading about her love for mirrors of all things but as the book goes on and we hear about her eating flowers her love of perfumes and digging for rocks every chapter is about her with tidbits from history thrown in almost every sentence started with me,I or my or some other possessive starter I’m not a big fan of biographies and for some reason don’t care to hear people talk about their self it’s just not something I am into and so I really can’t say I like this book or that it lent itself to any kind of history I did enjoy the chapter called bone white and paperthin is that was the only one that started off about someone else and although it quickly came back to her I still enjoyed the beginning. I know a lot of people like this book and that’s great I did not. I love history but don’t care to read about peoples favorite things and not only that I didn’t see what this was even called the ugly history of beautiful things because the only thing visible in this book was her love of mirrors. I received this book from NetGalley and a publisher but I am leaving this review voluntarily please forgive any mistakes as I am blind and dictate my review.
May 23, 2023
I really enjoyed this collection of essays — they were all a pleasure to read and full of information that was new to me. The chapters are well-written and easy to read, but although they’re each dedicated to one beautiful object or topic, the facts within are fast and furious. A lot of ground is covered here, but Kelleher is a writer and not a historian so these essays are not academic but rather a web of connections and historical facts sprinkled with personal commentary (I glossed over some of the virtue signalling, which she does make up for in the conclusion). Although I wished the author didn’t keep referring to her depression and stuck to the history instead of her life story, this was an enlightening read that I’m sure I’ll think about for a while.
September 14, 2023
I liked this book at first, but it quickly became repetitive. Every chapter included personal anecdotes that felt irrelevant and most of the social commentary didn’t feel fully formed. It does present some interesting histories, but it didn’t really go into enough depth on any topic to leave a lasting impact.
February 16, 2023
We have all been blinded by the the beauty that surrounds us. Our obsession for beauty has an element of ugliness that we much prefer to forget, which Kelleher brings to light in these brilliantly crafted personal essays.
March 31, 2023
Glass isn't a solid, WTF.
June 10, 2024
Precioso, perverso, un poco melancólico. Me ha recordado a Un verdor terrible y a Mariana Enríquez (a ella, no a sus libros). A la vez, esta forma de ensayo confesional "te hablo de muchas cosas-pero también te hablo mucho de mí" qué estadounidense es y cómo la hemos adoptado.
January 7, 2023
I can’t wait until this book arrives in April! I was disappointed to see a negative review seemingly based on the fact someone just wanted to read an entirely different book - then go find that book! That’s like reading a Stephen King novel and giving it a 2 star review because you wanted a romance novel instead.
If you like Katy’s work, you’re sure to find this to be a delight too. Well-written, thoughtful and, well, downright beautiful. When someone writes about what they love it shows, and that is most certainly the case here. Kudos.
If you like Katy’s work, you’re sure to find this to be a delight too. Well-written, thoughtful and, well, downright beautiful. When someone writes about what they love it shows, and that is most certainly the case here. Kudos.
March 20, 2023
I love random niche history and this really fed that hunger. I appreciate the authors well rounded opinions and storytelling. The Diamond chapter was really eye opening! All in all, a really interesting read.
June 26, 2023
I am unfamiliar with the author's work, but, no surprise if you know me, I am interested in the subject. Edelweiss granted my request for an advance review copy and I got an uncorrected proof to read.
Ms. Kelleher tells stories of things considered beautiful, weaving in personal experiences, and diving deep into historical research to tease out some of the uglier aspects of them. Some are physical - toxicities and dangers, some psychological - why the toxicities and dangers are accepted (though admittedly largely unknown to the general user). The book description hints at some of these things she writes about: mirrors, flowers, gems, shells, makeup, smelly stuff, flowers, slinky weaves, glass, fancy dinnerware, marble. There are the perceptions of value; the manipulation of perceptions; the hidden costs of producing value. She's candid, and definitely has a personal relationship with what she's written about. And, she's done her research. Every chapter has a jumping off point with a mention of a book or two from which she learned some of the history. The tortured history of things that are beautiful or make us beautiful. Or, rather, are used to make us what we think is beautiful. She concludes "But I’ve also become more attuned to beauty, more capable of creating the experience of wonder within myself. I’ve gotten much better at ferreting out small, exquisite details and savoring complicated, muddy colors." We should all strive to do this.
I like her writing. I am not a fan of the note style (gathered at the end of the book, no indication in the main body that there is a reference to more) but there is a long list for readers to dive deeper themselves. Recommended to those with a curiosity of these things, and to those who could benefit from an understanding of the histories and issues with a selection of beautiful things.
Or, just recommended.
Curated highlights, outtakes, stuff that I made note of:
[on the eye of the beholder] "We perceive the qualities of a physical object and then we judge it beautiful. Generally, this feels good. But what pleases your senses is different from what pleases mine."
{Obvious? Not to everyone, and she gets it.}
"...my writing has been informed by my education (both formal and self-directed)..."
{The wraparound text is: "Although I don't cover the philosophy of aesthetics, [...] and by an ongoing engagement with these historic texts." The phrase I extracted resonates with/reflects me.}
The subtle power of iconography isn’t something I take lightly. Even commonly used symbols are important; I try to choose mine carefully.
Curious. Rejecting religions but afraid to wear icons Is superstitious
[add to the mental dictionary] "The word 'orchid' comes from the Greek word for testicle, 'órkhis.' The Greeks were inspired by the plant’s rounded tubers, which often grow in a pair, one larger and one smaller."
{Huh. I may have known and forgotten that, but I'll take it as having learned something new. Along with the etymology of the word "musk" (it's from a Sanskrit word - I'll leave it to you to look it up.)}
[on her early education] "From New York to New Mexico to Massachusetts, each of our homes was surrounded by nature, and my parents had a Montessori attitude toward education and discovery. If we showed an interest in any one subject—like, say, rocks—they would try to nurture that."
{We did that, too, with our (home educated) children. Follow an interest, find the resources, be it an entomologist or an ornithologist, an EMT/paramedic, or whatever.}
{on magic] "I didn’t understand this until recently, but metaphors are, in a very real way, magic. When I turn a gemstone into a source of solace, when I hold a rock to calm myself, and when I send out good vibes into the world, I’m practicing a form of magic that has been around for as long as humans have been alive. I’m creating links between things, pathways of meaning that get stronger the more often we travel them. In Magic: A History, Oxford archeology professor Chris Gosden defines magic as a mode of activity that emphasizes 'human participation' with the universe. 'Rumors of the death of magic,' he writes, 'have been constantly exaggerated.' Magic isn’t about understanding coldly from a distance or worshipping like a supplicant. It’s about being in the thick of it, a spinner in the net rather than a fly. 'Through magic we can explore mutuality,' Gosden posits, adding that 'human intelligence is one element of the broader intelligence of the world.' Living things communicate with one another, even though we don’t always speak clearly. Magic allows for a greater understanding of the world. It is intertwined with both religion and science, and while we often think of these three frameworks as though they���re in direct opposition, Gosden points out that we don’t have to choose. We have space for many different beliefs inside our brains. Although we tend to denigrate magic as something for children and the childlike, we’ve been practicing magic for as long as we’ve been people. No culture is without its magical practices, its superstitions and its folk beliefs. Holding stones and hoping for calm—it’s a form of magic. If I believe it works, it will. It’s just the placebo effect."
{A large highlight, yes, but one I wanted to come back to. I noted that I'd have to process this a bit. First thought is to dismiss. Second is to see what different meaning she has assigned to "magic" and expand my horizons.}
[on the price of a slave] "Throughout history, people have tried to attach numbers to the human soul, value to a person’s body. This sale is difficult for me to conceptualize, which in some ways makes it easier to stomach. There’s a distance between my life and this event, one that is widened by each year between now and then, each uncomfortable detail that I don’t want to examine."
{One difficult to conceptualize part is the escalation from 10,000 to 150,000 cowrie shells for one human and what 150,000 looks like. Another is the scale of suffering that slavery was/is. For too many, the refusal to even acknowledge its existence, let alone its ongoing generational impacts is difficult for me to conceptualize, even if it plays out in our media today.}
And American history isn’t just a litany of suffering; its spine is made of survival stories.
[an reflection of critic Wesley Morris on a Beyoncé album] “Let’s take a moment, shall we, to appreciate that beauty will make you tolerate anything, including waking up at the crack of dawn to behold it. Very little compares to the rising sun. [and...] not much tops Beyoncé.”
{Good stuff. I don't listen to her, but I have an appreciation for her art.}
[ah... glass] "We use glass to tell our individual truths, but we can also use it to create false narratives. I wouldn’t have been able to get the coronavirus vaccine without glass vials, but we also wouldn’t have seen such rapid-fire spread of anti-vaccine propaganda if we didn’t have glass screens in our pockets."
[something we don't like to hear] "The myth of America is that our country was built by free, hardworking immigrants who pulled themselves up by their bootstraps. In reality, America was molded and shaped by decisions of the wealthiest members of society, people who inherited their money or exploited their way to the top."
{Truer words... people do like their myths, though.}
[an untold story] "Unlike coal miners, who get plenty of press attention, we don’t often talk about the people who mix our composite quartz counters or grind our marble to make our toothpaste."
Ms. Kelleher tells stories of things considered beautiful, weaving in personal experiences, and diving deep into historical research to tease out some of the uglier aspects of them. Some are physical - toxicities and dangers, some psychological - why the toxicities and dangers are accepted (though admittedly largely unknown to the general user). The book description hints at some of these things she writes about: mirrors, flowers, gems, shells, makeup, smelly stuff, flowers, slinky weaves, glass, fancy dinnerware, marble. There are the perceptions of value; the manipulation of perceptions; the hidden costs of producing value. She's candid, and definitely has a personal relationship with what she's written about. And, she's done her research. Every chapter has a jumping off point with a mention of a book or two from which she learned some of the history. The tortured history of things that are beautiful or make us beautiful. Or, rather, are used to make us what we think is beautiful. She concludes "But I’ve also become more attuned to beauty, more capable of creating the experience of wonder within myself. I’ve gotten much better at ferreting out small, exquisite details and savoring complicated, muddy colors." We should all strive to do this.
I like her writing. I am not a fan of the note style (gathered at the end of the book, no indication in the main body that there is a reference to more) but there is a long list for readers to dive deeper themselves. Recommended to those with a curiosity of these things, and to those who could benefit from an understanding of the histories and issues with a selection of beautiful things.
Or, just recommended.
Curated highlights, outtakes, stuff that I made note of:
[on the eye of the beholder] "We perceive the qualities of a physical object and then we judge it beautiful. Generally, this feels good. But what pleases your senses is different from what pleases mine."
{Obvious? Not to everyone, and she gets it.}
"...my writing has been informed by my education (both formal and self-directed)..."
{The wraparound text is: "Although I don't cover the philosophy of aesthetics, [...] and by an ongoing engagement with these historic texts." The phrase I extracted resonates with/reflects me.}
The subtle power of iconography isn’t something I take lightly. Even commonly used symbols are important; I try to choose mine carefully.
Curious. Rejecting religions but afraid to wear icons Is superstitious
[add to the mental dictionary] "The word 'orchid' comes from the Greek word for testicle, 'órkhis.' The Greeks were inspired by the plant’s rounded tubers, which often grow in a pair, one larger and one smaller."
{Huh. I may have known and forgotten that, but I'll take it as having learned something new. Along with the etymology of the word "musk" (it's from a Sanskrit word - I'll leave it to you to look it up.)}
[on her early education] "From New York to New Mexico to Massachusetts, each of our homes was surrounded by nature, and my parents had a Montessori attitude toward education and discovery. If we showed an interest in any one subject—like, say, rocks—they would try to nurture that."
{We did that, too, with our (home educated) children. Follow an interest, find the resources, be it an entomologist or an ornithologist, an EMT/paramedic, or whatever.}
{on magic] "I didn’t understand this until recently, but metaphors are, in a very real way, magic. When I turn a gemstone into a source of solace, when I hold a rock to calm myself, and when I send out good vibes into the world, I’m practicing a form of magic that has been around for as long as humans have been alive. I’m creating links between things, pathways of meaning that get stronger the more often we travel them. In Magic: A History, Oxford archeology professor Chris Gosden defines magic as a mode of activity that emphasizes 'human participation' with the universe. 'Rumors of the death of magic,' he writes, 'have been constantly exaggerated.' Magic isn’t about understanding coldly from a distance or worshipping like a supplicant. It’s about being in the thick of it, a spinner in the net rather than a fly. 'Through magic we can explore mutuality,' Gosden posits, adding that 'human intelligence is one element of the broader intelligence of the world.' Living things communicate with one another, even though we don’t always speak clearly. Magic allows for a greater understanding of the world. It is intertwined with both religion and science, and while we often think of these three frameworks as though they���re in direct opposition, Gosden points out that we don’t have to choose. We have space for many different beliefs inside our brains. Although we tend to denigrate magic as something for children and the childlike, we’ve been practicing magic for as long as we’ve been people. No culture is without its magical practices, its superstitions and its folk beliefs. Holding stones and hoping for calm—it’s a form of magic. If I believe it works, it will. It’s just the placebo effect."
{A large highlight, yes, but one I wanted to come back to. I noted that I'd have to process this a bit. First thought is to dismiss. Second is to see what different meaning she has assigned to "magic" and expand my horizons.}
[on the price of a slave] "Throughout history, people have tried to attach numbers to the human soul, value to a person’s body. This sale is difficult for me to conceptualize, which in some ways makes it easier to stomach. There’s a distance between my life and this event, one that is widened by each year between now and then, each uncomfortable detail that I don’t want to examine."
{One difficult to conceptualize part is the escalation from 10,000 to 150,000 cowrie shells for one human and what 150,000 looks like. Another is the scale of suffering that slavery was/is. For too many, the refusal to even acknowledge its existence, let alone its ongoing generational impacts is difficult for me to conceptualize, even if it plays out in our media today.}
And American history isn’t just a litany of suffering; its spine is made of survival stories.
[an reflection of critic Wesley Morris on a Beyoncé album] “Let’s take a moment, shall we, to appreciate that beauty will make you tolerate anything, including waking up at the crack of dawn to behold it. Very little compares to the rising sun. [and...] not much tops Beyoncé.”
{Good stuff. I don't listen to her, but I have an appreciation for her art.}
[ah... glass] "We use glass to tell our individual truths, but we can also use it to create false narratives. I wouldn’t have been able to get the coronavirus vaccine without glass vials, but we also wouldn’t have seen such rapid-fire spread of anti-vaccine propaganda if we didn’t have glass screens in our pockets."
[something we don't like to hear] "The myth of America is that our country was built by free, hardworking immigrants who pulled themselves up by their bootstraps. In reality, America was molded and shaped by decisions of the wealthiest members of society, people who inherited their money or exploited their way to the top."
{Truer words... people do like their myths, though.}
[an untold story] "Unlike coal miners, who get plenty of press attention, we don’t often talk about the people who mix our composite quartz counters or grind our marble to make our toothpaste."
May 31, 2023
The Ugly History of Beautiful Things by Katy Kelleher is a thoughtful and thought-provoking collection of essays examining the reality that “There are no pure things in this world; everything that lives does harm” and how that reality clashes with our individual desires to own items of rare beauty. As with nearly any collection, some essays are stronger than others or, these being essays woven of parts, some parts are stronger than other, but the one doesn’t wait long for the weaker moments to give way to better ones.
Kelleher opens with a brief discussion of her own struggles with depression and suicidal thoughts and her epiphany when her therapist asked her what gets her out of bed: “I get up because I might see or hold something beautiful.” The problem as she says is “I’ve never found an object that was untouched by the depravity of human greed or unblemished by the chemical undoings of time.” And so in “order of when I began to desire them” she explores a number of “beautiful things”, both their hold on her and the ugliness attached to them historically and/or currently. Those things include: mirrors, flowers, gemstones (especially diamonds), shells, makeup, perfume, silk, porcelain, marble. Each of them with their own issues — child labor, environmental despoilation, animal cruelty, ill health effects on miners/craftspeople, forced labor, associations with Nazis. Of these, my personal favorite was the essay on silk, while the one on makeup was perhaps my least favorite.
Each essay moves back and forth amongst several narrative lines/styles: the personal/memoiristic, more journalistic writing, historical research, science writing, social/political/pop culture criticism. While there’s some variation in the success of each in any given segment, as well as in how smooth transitions are, generally each essay is a pleasure to stroll through as Kelleher makes connections between her own life and the background of the objects she’s discussing. Sometimes she may tip over the line into a moment or two where the writing turns a little preachy or self-congratulatory, where the personal feels a bit flat/trivial, but that line will shift depending on the individual reader’s own views/tastes. I found those moments relatively rare and always short-lived.
I read a lot of non-fiction, personal essays and science-based, so some of what was here was familiar to me such as the properties of glass, history of mirrors or the phantasmagoria, but I still highlighted a good number of points, always a sign to me of a good non-fiction work. Stylistically, Kelleher is never anything but crystal clear and easy to follow and is almost always an engaging voice. I can’t say I highlighted any lines for their lyricism or startlement factor, but there’s a lot to be said for smooth prose that remains invisible.
Recommended.
Kelleher opens with a brief discussion of her own struggles with depression and suicidal thoughts and her epiphany when her therapist asked her what gets her out of bed: “I get up because I might see or hold something beautiful.” The problem as she says is “I’ve never found an object that was untouched by the depravity of human greed or unblemished by the chemical undoings of time.” And so in “order of when I began to desire them” she explores a number of “beautiful things”, both their hold on her and the ugliness attached to them historically and/or currently. Those things include: mirrors, flowers, gemstones (especially diamonds), shells, makeup, perfume, silk, porcelain, marble. Each of them with their own issues — child labor, environmental despoilation, animal cruelty, ill health effects on miners/craftspeople, forced labor, associations with Nazis. Of these, my personal favorite was the essay on silk, while the one on makeup was perhaps my least favorite.
Each essay moves back and forth amongst several narrative lines/styles: the personal/memoiristic, more journalistic writing, historical research, science writing, social/political/pop culture criticism. While there’s some variation in the success of each in any given segment, as well as in how smooth transitions are, generally each essay is a pleasure to stroll through as Kelleher makes connections between her own life and the background of the objects she’s discussing. Sometimes she may tip over the line into a moment or two where the writing turns a little preachy or self-congratulatory, where the personal feels a bit flat/trivial, but that line will shift depending on the individual reader’s own views/tastes. I found those moments relatively rare and always short-lived.
I read a lot of non-fiction, personal essays and science-based, so some of what was here was familiar to me such as the properties of glass, history of mirrors or the phantasmagoria, but I still highlighted a good number of points, always a sign to me of a good non-fiction work. Stylistically, Kelleher is never anything but crystal clear and easy to follow and is almost always an engaging voice. I can’t say I highlighted any lines for their lyricism or startlement factor, but there’s a lot to be said for smooth prose that remains invisible.
Recommended.
July 19, 2023
I love seeing beauty everywhere. I was excited to read this book.
The conclusion was what I wanted out of this it- various everyday things that are beautiful and why/how to see beauty in such things (“It is part attention, part appreciation, and part imagination.”) And how that can make us buy less stuff.
The rest of it- the whole history part- I was bored with until she explained in the conclusion that knowing the history of mundane things helped her see them as more beautiful. Her essays were all well researched but I just didn’t care, I wanted more reflection.
The conclusion was what I wanted out of this it- various everyday things that are beautiful and why/how to see beauty in such things (“It is part attention, part appreciation, and part imagination.”) And how that can make us buy less stuff.
The rest of it- the whole history part- I was bored with until she explained in the conclusion that knowing the history of mundane things helped her see them as more beautiful. Her essays were all well researched but I just didn’t care, I wanted more reflection.
September 16, 2025
i’m too european for this
May 25, 2023
I really enjoyed these brief dives into the dark histories of the luxury items so many of us either have or strive to have.
I thought all the chapters were extremely well done, in particular how the author related her life experience with each of them and the conflicts they inspire in here. From makeup to marble (as an interior design writer, she often finds herself envying the interiors she writes about when she has to return to her own modest home) She finds beauty, and in that beauty joy, in objects that she recognizes are marketed to us expressly for that purpose.
I thought it instructive that she referenced Jia Tolentino in that Tolentino’s book “Trick Mirror” deals with many of these same issues of conspicuous consumption. Tolentino, like Kelleher, realized that she was probably harming the planet and herself with some of her lifestyle choices but was open about admitting that she is unlikely to change.
Likewise, Kelleher writes a brief passage where she essentially says that it is impossible to live without making some unethical spending choices. As much as this may sound like an attempt to justify the ones she does make, I think in principal, her assumption is correct.
She also recognizes that knowing where some of them come from, she doesn’t need to have a diamond.
Knowing that a large quantity of silk is made by child labor in impoverished countries, she doesn’t need silk garments.
But she likes silk.
And she likes diamonds.
While she tries to live responsibly in as many ways as she can, she is not ready to give up everything that inspires joy in her.
I’m not here to tell Kelleher what choices she needs to make in her life. She is aware of the damage her choices, all of our choices, make in the world around us. What I learned here however is that having knowledge of these “beautiful” things and their dark histories can only help us to make better choices going forward.
I thought all the chapters were extremely well done, in particular how the author related her life experience with each of them and the conflicts they inspire in here. From makeup to marble (as an interior design writer, she often finds herself envying the interiors she writes about when she has to return to her own modest home) She finds beauty, and in that beauty joy, in objects that she recognizes are marketed to us expressly for that purpose.
I thought it instructive that she referenced Jia Tolentino in that Tolentino’s book “Trick Mirror” deals with many of these same issues of conspicuous consumption. Tolentino, like Kelleher, realized that she was probably harming the planet and herself with some of her lifestyle choices but was open about admitting that she is unlikely to change.
Likewise, Kelleher writes a brief passage where she essentially says that it is impossible to live without making some unethical spending choices. As much as this may sound like an attempt to justify the ones she does make, I think in principal, her assumption is correct.
She also recognizes that knowing where some of them come from, she doesn’t need to have a diamond.
Knowing that a large quantity of silk is made by child labor in impoverished countries, she doesn’t need silk garments.
But she likes silk.
And she likes diamonds.
While she tries to live responsibly in as many ways as she can, she is not ready to give up everything that inspires joy in her.
I’m not here to tell Kelleher what choices she needs to make in her life. She is aware of the damage her choices, all of our choices, make in the world around us. What I learned here however is that having knowledge of these “beautiful” things and their dark histories can only help us to make better choices going forward.
November 26, 2024
If you enjoyed John Green's The Anthropocene Reviewed but wanted a bit more elaboration and are more interested in the female gaze, The Ugly History of Beautiful Things is for you. I enjoyed this exploration of various desirable objects and some of the ugly truth behind the beauty. Thought-provoking if perhaps a bit too self-absorbed at times. But then, if you can't navel-gaze during your own book, when are you supposed to?
October 9, 2024
Quería que me gustase más de lo que ha hecho porque prometía. Sabía que era más bien una colección de ensayos de diversos objetos/materiales, pero me ha parecido más bien una colección de posts personales con un poco de investigación venidos a más.
Todos siguen la estructura de: anécdota biográfica a modo de diario + breve historia del objeto + cita a otro libro que explica el tema en profundidad + otra anécdota + un par de frases de una entrevista + conclusión moral en la que la autora habla de por qué no apoya dicho objeto.
Los diamantes están bañados en sangre, las rosas contaminan, el perfume acaba con los animales, el maquillaje mata, la seda fomenta la explotación infantil y la porcelana es nazi.
Todas estas historias de industrias enteras que tienen un gran impacto en la sociedad y las personas por ser tan terribles me han parecido banales al leerlas de la forma en la que escribe la autora.
Veo su envidia, su rabia, su deseo y su fracaso personal de que sigan gustándole. Todo suena a su diario de conversión a ser una chica "underconsumptioncore" después de una vida de excesos consumistas.
Querer buscar la belleza en momentos, recuerdos y otro tipo de objetos suena bien, pero no creo que la propia autora esté convencida de la conclusión como para que me llegue a mí. Es un vago "bueno, yo hago cosas éticas y ya tal". Que después de toda la investigación haya una leve crítica y no una fuerte denuncia me apena.
Todos siguen la estructura de: anécdota biográfica a modo de diario + breve historia del objeto + cita a otro libro que explica el tema en profundidad + otra anécdota + un par de frases de una entrevista + conclusión moral en la que la autora habla de por qué no apoya dicho objeto.
Los diamantes están bañados en sangre, las rosas contaminan, el perfume acaba con los animales, el maquillaje mata, la seda fomenta la explotación infantil y la porcelana es nazi.
Todas estas historias de industrias enteras que tienen un gran impacto en la sociedad y las personas por ser tan terribles me han parecido banales al leerlas de la forma en la que escribe la autora.
Veo su envidia, su rabia, su deseo y su fracaso personal de que sigan gustándole. Todo suena a su diario de conversión a ser una chica "underconsumptioncore" después de una vida de excesos consumistas.
Querer buscar la belleza en momentos, recuerdos y otro tipo de objetos suena bien, pero no creo que la propia autora esté convencida de la conclusión como para que me llegue a mí. Es un vago "bueno, yo hago cosas éticas y ya tal". Que después de toda la investigación haya una leve crítica y no una fuerte denuncia me apena.
June 22, 2023
I was really interested in this book and had high expectations…unfortunately it was not my favorite read.
It was very clear that the author has an entirely different (almost opposite) view of reality than I do, and because of that, she stated things as fact that really aren’t. They are opinion, or perspective. So because of that, it’s an interesting study in worldview and how that applies to beauty, but it’s not exactly what I expected of the book.
She really brings in her politics a lot (which she warns about in the intro), so if you don’t agree with anti-capitalism and today’s woke ideology, maybe just don’t read the book.
Some of the chapters I did find very interesting, and I probably will remember bits and pieces of what she’s written. I knew it would be a stretch in genre/topic for me so I’m still glad I read it and stuck with it, but I don’t think I’d seek out anything else written by her, and there are only a few select people I might ever recommend this book to.
Biggest advice: read the intro and first chapter before committing or buying. If you like them, you’ll enjoy the book; if not, just move onto something else.
It was very clear that the author has an entirely different (almost opposite) view of reality than I do, and because of that, she stated things as fact that really aren’t. They are opinion, or perspective. So because of that, it’s an interesting study in worldview and how that applies to beauty, but it’s not exactly what I expected of the book.
She really brings in her politics a lot (which she warns about in the intro), so if you don’t agree with anti-capitalism and today’s woke ideology, maybe just don’t read the book.
Some of the chapters I did find very interesting, and I probably will remember bits and pieces of what she’s written. I knew it would be a stretch in genre/topic for me so I’m still glad I read it and stuck with it, but I don’t think I’d seek out anything else written by her, and there are only a few select people I might ever recommend this book to.
Biggest advice: read the intro and first chapter before committing or buying. If you like them, you’ll enjoy the book; if not, just move onto something else.
February 5, 2025
El tema es muy sugerente pero se me ha hecho largo. Quizá es porque no acabé de conectar.
June 21, 2023
I think the reason this did not resonate with me is that I am not incredibly concerned with beautiful things. The way in which Kelleher described shells and gems and mascara and the like was unfamiliar to me. However, what I liked about this book was Kelleher. At the heart, while still a book examining the flaws and horrors plaguing typically beautiful commodities, it was wholly an examination of the self and our place—specifically Kelleher's place—in the world of beauty.
August 22, 2024
This book contains ten essays, each pondering why we consider a particular object beautiful, taking a peek into its history, considering some of the ethical concerns about the object and its production, and a few personal connections and musings. Fun facts are supplemented with expert interviews and a few notable sources for further reading.
I am a fan of fun facts, and this book delivers admirably. Admittedly, if one wants a more thorough exploration of the dark factors of consumerism, one should perhaps read The Story of Stuff by Annie Leonard, and if one would like more detailed information about each object and its history, this book offers plenty of suggestions for further reading. I liked this book as an approachable and personable introduction to some facts I hadn't been aware of. The human interest element might have been overdone at times (I mean, it's cool that you have a wooden wedding ring and all, but I kind of wanted to know more about actual diamonds?), but I can appreciate the ways this sparked my own reflection into why I want beautiful things and the ways that my consumption affects everything around me.
I am a fan of fun facts, and this book delivers admirably. Admittedly, if one wants a more thorough exploration of the dark factors of consumerism, one should perhaps read The Story of Stuff by Annie Leonard, and if one would like more detailed information about each object and its history, this book offers plenty of suggestions for further reading. I liked this book as an approachable and personable introduction to some facts I hadn't been aware of. The human interest element might have been overdone at times (I mean, it's cool that you have a wooden wedding ring and all, but I kind of wanted to know more about actual diamonds?), but I can appreciate the ways this sparked my own reflection into why I want beautiful things and the ways that my consumption affects everything around me.
Read
June 2, 2025Me gusta leer sobre la persecución de la belleza y la belleza como aspiración desde un punto crítico. Siento que, de ser más corto y más conciso, hubiese sido más disfrutable. Demasiadas tangentes y demasiados desvíos del punto original que se introduce en el capítulo. Pero bonito y agradable de leer
August 20, 2023
A set of thoughtful and ambivalent essays about desire, consumerism, the search for things that spark joy and wonder and how hard it can be to ethically obtain them. Very personal in a good way - Kelleher does not pretend to be other than she is, firmly in the view point of a person of her race/class/standing/occupation. A useful set of considerations in the era of little treats.
January 9, 2024
Interesting. Short chapters each covering a different "beautiful" object, discussion about it and a little history/context of what makes their collection/use problematic. Some of the topics were more engaging than others. I especially enjoyed the make up and perfume chapters.
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