This book is about working and not working, hating work and needing to work, intimacy and technology, money and love, labour and pleasure. Across a series of essays, Sally Olds probes the ambivalent utopias of polyamory, cryptocurrency, clubbing, communes, a secret fraternity, and the essay form itself. Curiosity drives each of these adventures into projected worlds, where Olds explores how living with precariousness changes expectations of how a life can be lived in this thrilling appraisal of the state of things.
I'm conflicted. Reading this, I felt a mix of intrigue, enjoyment, confusion, boredom and annoyance (I am also, crucially, not smart enough to fully understand much of this book).
On the one hand, this is an interesting and clearly well-researched collection. The sections that blended Sally Olds' personal experiences/reflections with the theoretical were especially enjoyable, and the discussion of clickbait as a form of the hybrid essay was undeniably fascinating. I also appreciated the history of polyamorous communes, parts of the essay on clubbing and Faust, and much of the final piece, "Crypto Forever".
On the other, it is also knowingly inaccessible due to the myriad of critical/theoretical concepts it unloads upon the reader: post-Fordism, post-Work, cybernetic socialism, etc. It's also significantly focused on politicising/criticising (in the literary sense) artwork, society, and relationships, a practice which, while at times interesting, increasingly feels... reductive? Unnecessary? I'm not sure. While there is merit in such analysis, I often struggle to see what it accomplishes. Do we really need to over-theorise everything? I found myself asking. That said, I acknowledge this is a personal preference rather than an issue with the text itself. (Yet I still found myself returning to specific passages, trying to make sense of and unpack Sally's ideas and concepts, hoping to nod along in agreement or simply roll an informed eye.)
Perhaps my mixed feelings have to do with my approach. Going in, I expected something more free-flowing, a little gossipy. I expected a collection about living in Melbourne. Something more personal, autobiographical, and Olivia Laing adjacent - still theoretical but grounded in lived experience (I have no idea where these preconceptions came from). While portions of "People Who Lunch" are like this, the vast majority aren't. Instead, the collection is more concerned with the critical/theoretical, with the personal essentially functioning as a framing device. Put simply, the essays (mostly) read like a collection of contemporary, millennial, personally-tinged, peer-reviewed journal articles.
And as another reviewer stated, this really is the epitome of inner-north Melbourne in a book.
No doubt that Sally Olds is holding back on her abundant genius here, which is important for the audience’s sake (we are but mortal). The narcissist in me loved reading about Melbourne / Narrm in the way she carefully holds a mirror back. I get the feeling Olds is only going to get better and better. A fine wine from the beginning though, and fantastic for a first book.
1/5 this was sooooOOOOO bad it was painful -- whAT is she going on about??? the term "reach" has lost all meaning in comparison to this book. experience was only worsened by my catastrophic disappointment based on its marketing and subject matter LIFE IS TOO SHORT do not waste any of it on this
Olds interrogates polyamory, secret societies, clubbing and cryptocurrency through a sharp late-capitalism lens; work and labour. But the essay that hit me hardest was the one about the hybrid essay form itself. Smart doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Sally Olds is the kind of intelligent I can only dream of. There is a stifled attempt to rein in a clear and effortless level of genius, but unfortunately I could not be strung alongside it. I was lost, I was lost in a maze of academic structure and words that started to make it feel like a journal article of which I have read too many in the last 2 years. The moments where we got a more human glimpse of friendship and daily life in the (its very obvious) inner-north was interesting. I knew that I had missed the rung on the smart person ladder when my very intelligent soon-to-be-doctor of philosophy friend said that he loved it. I can only dream.
4 stars possibly because the last essay was my favourite. Overall, this was a right stretch for my brain and sometimes I didn’t know wtf was going on but I persisted and I was for sure rewarded when I did know what was going on
Not heaps to say on this. I long intended to read it. I enjoyed it. Olds' essays on polyamory were the most interesting. Some essays got a bit academic beyond my simple comprehension/enjoyment (could feel the Master of Arts project coming through at times).
Olds’ essays are brilliant, creative and curious yet intellectually abundant they reflect the author’s considerable genius that at times eclipsed my understanding. My favourite was the essay on the “hybrid essay” however I feel I need to read this again in a little while to fully grasp the depth of the essays’ ideas.
The Australian Sally Olds writes about elements of modern 'decadence' with an eye for the bizarre and the curious.
The forms of culture behind cryptocurrency, multi-day raves, polyamory, communes, secret gentlemen's clubs - there are come under Old's microscope.
My favourite essay I felt didn't really fit. It was about the inseparability of autobiography from cultural criticism, and some of the issues that result.
Olds is a great observer and held my interest pretty well with her mix of narrative, interviews and theory. Where I felt my attention waning was in extended passages of quite involved political and social theory, pretty well abstracted from her subjects, but these were few and far between.
I'd say she also assumes a younger (probably millennial) readership - certainty about the merits of capitalism and hard socialism, pop culture references - that may grate with some.
Nice to have a smart antipodean lens on this stuff, and I think I would've liked it even more if I got the Aussie in jokes.
I think Sally Olds has the potential to become a really influential philosopher down track. Her ideas are interesting, and deeply layered. But I think they are currently still a little entangled with her sources, and oftentimes lacking in perspective. There was a naivety that was both charming and irritating. It reminded me why I tend not to be able to spend long periods of time with people in their early to mid twenties - even the super bright ones with a genuinely fascinating perspective tend to get eaten by the novelty of discovery.
Much of my opinion is likely influenced by my personal irritation with her style of prose, so maybe take it with a grain of salt. I would be curious to read anything she produces in future.
starts off really strong then becomes bland asf. polyamory chapter made me roll my eyes but turned out kinda profound then the crypto one also made me roll my eyes and was the worst one. also noticed Oxford commas in first chapter but none for rest of book like damn i feel baited
This book is interesting, well-researched and clever, if occasionally unsatisfying.The Buffalo Club and Crypto Forever are the two most flawed essays in the collection, and because these essays open and conclude the book, their flaws had an outsized effect on my feelings towards the book as a whole.
The Buffalo Club is an enthralling account of the club's building and upstairs nightclub, but concludes with an exhausted mystery. Olds says as much in the second-to-last paragraph, but simply recognising that the mystery of the building's history is either solved, uninteresting or non-existent doesn't make for a worthy conclusion to an otherwise great essay. I wanted to know what Olds' opinion of her experience was, even if all the historical facts and history of the building couldn't be ironed out. I know that she's wistfully half-mourning the kind of institution that the nightclub and club were, but I can't really understand why (besides clues from the other essays, which might hint that she's nostalgic for their anti- or non-capitalism)
Crypto Forever is easily the collection's worst essay. Its main offence is that it feels authorless, like a journalist's transcript from talking to five punters from Carlton. I think it did what Olds wanted it to do—which was to recast the Crypto discussion in a slightly different, slightly left-nihilistic light—and I think the people in it are interesting in their own ways, but I don't feel like I've gained anything from reading it. It's an extremely odd turn from the other essays, with Olds seeming hesitant to invest the same amount of her presence into it (even though she claims to be "invested" in crypto, whether metaphorically or otherwise.)
Meanwhile, every essay between these two are excellent, the best being "For Discussion and Resolution." It's a deep, smart, and personal probe into the theory (and some real-world examples) of polyamory. It never slides into the common, careless reductionism of other coverage of poly relationships and it ends with an organic and perfect conundrum.
My other favourite was "The Beautiful Piece," which constructs an insightful argument about the history, contradictions, and zaniness of the hybrid essay. As a freshly-hired and pessimistic content writer, I like Olds' conception of junk internet content *as* hybrid essays, and her argument that the trend of actual good writers writing hybrid nonfiction writing might be a bad thing. It articulated a lot of the things I felt but couldn't figure out how to say—one of the most satisfying things to read.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
was liking it fine enough but the end chapter on crypto really let me down. i don’t think that the kind of “oh well, here’s this new thing, it’s kinda weird and bad but also some artists can make money” lackadaisical kind of reporting is very valuable without the context of crypto, web3 and NFTs being insane scams in our current age. like yeah, maybe at the start a few people made some nice cash, i’m fine with that. but crypto capitalism is not going to save you. genuinely tho, some of the interviews with people she knows blithely saying capitalism is “philosophically good” absolutely did my head in. for once i was trying to put aside my own biases of not really liking australian authors despite being australian, and i kinda liked a few of the essays, but man.
also, bringing up three maggie nelson books in a row (and kinda making a dig at the style of memoir blended with theory and critique that she does) really put a bad taste in my mouth. maybe it’s cause i literally just re-read “the argonauts” and have solidified it in my top 3 books of all time, but anyone could only pray to be as ruinously articulate and impactful as she is.
DNF, I don't like including unfinished books in my tally but I'm changing my rules.
Parts of her essays got interesting but then they abruptly ended. I struggled to follow most of what was being said, leaving me feeling unintelligent but after reading more reviews I think it was the overuse of different concepts I'm just not familiar with. I really struggled in the second last essay and just decided to just call it.
These are clever academic essays. I loved the poly essay it was the most personal and easiest to read. The writing was dense at times and assumes a lot of knowledge from the reader. Don’t know if I was the right audience being an elder millennial, nor an artist by trade or interested in poly life. The essays were stimulating and look forward to reading more of Sally Old’s work.
A short collection of interesting essays that are close but not quite there. Sometimes a little too personal, sometimes a little too theoretical/academic, sometimes a little too journalistic. But the essay on essays is a must read!
About to tuck into these two highly recommended. People who Lunch by Sally Olds published by Upswell Publishing and bought at Rabble Books & Games. Kolo Mee 'the best this side of Sarawak' according to @miriamweiweilo at Two Hands Noodles Shop. I think I might have to agree.
A remarkable debut, Sally Olds's People Who Lunch is a collection of essays that delves into secret societies, clubbing, polyamory, the possibility of universal basic income, post-work futures, the perils of half-baked literary criticism, and cryptocurrency – all brilliantly tied together by Olds's humour, intelligence and energy.
The overriding theme is flux: Olds explores the kinds of social expressions we are seeing, and will continue to see, as capitalism and the Fordist compact – patriarchal nuclear families, middle-class rights and care, infrastructure – continue to decay, forcing experimentation with new forms of politics.
The book is anchored by Olds's incisive sense of the times we're living in, combined with a shrewd critical sensibility. As she writes in a chapter exploring polyamory and the end of 9-to-5 work structures:
"Polyamory, as one common critique goes, is made possible by a life of relative structural ease. You need the time and energy to do it; you need support systems, which usually form within progressive urban centres; you need access to contraception and healthcare; you need a decent-paying job, or a financial safety net, to facilitate all of the above."
I laughed at this, as I did also when she writes:
"There's always a question about jealousy to which the poly person submits the standard response: 'Of course I still get jealous. But when I do I work through it.'"
By analysing these attempts to move away from the structures preferred by capitalism – all of which involve so much work! — Olds is warning us, presciently, about how popular contemporary discourses negate Audre Lorde's concept of self-care, replacing it with endless labour and an individualised focus.
As Olds points out, this only serves to banalise the political potential of self-care.
I am inexpressibly happy this book exists in the world; it is a great book. Why? Because it is written in a register many great authors write in: one that does not worry about the industry, about the audience, about the bullshit; one that cares only about the book itself. The result is miraculous.
Treads the silvery edge between 3 and 4 stars. I read this in snatched moments on planes, buses and airport departure halls, between Melbourne, Abu Dhabi, London, Venice and Berlin. I couldn’t have asked for a better companion, given these essays traverse most of these cities.
The first essay, opening on London, was my favourite. A well-paced tale of heady techno-fuelled nights, 19th century mysticism and secret society intrigue, strengthened with admirable research and something like a working class sensibility (or a solid grounding in the history of unions, at least). The Anne Imhof essay would’ve been a banger had I read it at the time that work was the talk of the biennale circuit. Unfortunately, reading it now it feels dated and a little out of step with current readings of Imhof’s work. I loved the essay on the hybrid essay, and the way it really gnawed at irreproachability. The cryptocurrency piece was a fun read for local Naarm gossip (and was certainly delivered as such). And I shan’t comment on the two polyamory texts which I felt were the weakest, rooted flimsily in the subjectivities of the author’s own experiences (with polyamory, with loosely completing a state-funded PhD) and lacking a theoretical framework applicable to other cultural and class contexts.