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Butts: A Backstory
Goodreads Choice Award
Nominee for Readers' Favorite Nonfiction (2023)“Winning, cheeky, and illuminating….What appears initially as a folly with a look-at-this cover and title becomes, thanks to Radke’s intelligence and curiosity, something much meatier, entertaining, and wise.” — The Washington Post
“Lively and thorough, Butts is the best kind of nonfiction.” — Esquire , Best Books of 2022
A “carefully researched and reported work of cultural history” ( The New York Times ) that explores how one body part has influenced the female—and human—experience for centuries, and what that obsession reveals about our lives today.
Whether we love them or hate them, think they’re sexy, think they’re strange, consider them too big, too small, or anywhere in between, humans have a complicated relationship with butts. It is a body part unique to humans, critical to our evolution and survival, and yet it has come to signify so much more: sex, desire, comedy, shame. A woman’s butt, in particular, is forever being assessed, criticized, and objectified, from anxious self-examinations trying on jeans in department store dressing rooms to enduring crass remarks while walking down a street or high school hallways. But why? In Butts: A Backstory, reporter, essayist, and RadioLab contributing editor Heather Radke is determined to find out.
Spanning nearly two centuries, this “whip-smart” ( Publishers Weekly , starred review) cultural history takes us from the performance halls of 19th-century London to the aerobics studios of the 1980s, the music video set of Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” and the mountains of Arizona, where every year humans and horses race in a feat of gluteal endurance. Along the way, she meets evolutionary biologists who study how butts first developed; models whose measurements have defined jean sizing for millions of women; and the fitness gurus who created fads like “Buns of Steel.” She also examines the central importance of race through figures like Sarah Bartmann, once known as the “Venus Hottentot,” Josephine Baker, Jennifer Lopez, and other women of color whose butts have been idolized, envied, and despised.
Part deep dive reportage, part personal journey, part cabinet of curiosities, Butts is an entertaining, illuminating, and thoughtful examination of why certain silhouettes come in and out of fashion—and how larger ideas about race, control, liberation, and power affect our most private feelings about ourselves and others.
“Lively and thorough, Butts is the best kind of nonfiction.” — Esquire , Best Books of 2022
A “carefully researched and reported work of cultural history” ( The New York Times ) that explores how one body part has influenced the female—and human—experience for centuries, and what that obsession reveals about our lives today.
Whether we love them or hate them, think they’re sexy, think they’re strange, consider them too big, too small, or anywhere in between, humans have a complicated relationship with butts. It is a body part unique to humans, critical to our evolution and survival, and yet it has come to signify so much more: sex, desire, comedy, shame. A woman’s butt, in particular, is forever being assessed, criticized, and objectified, from anxious self-examinations trying on jeans in department store dressing rooms to enduring crass remarks while walking down a street or high school hallways. But why? In Butts: A Backstory, reporter, essayist, and RadioLab contributing editor Heather Radke is determined to find out.
Spanning nearly two centuries, this “whip-smart” ( Publishers Weekly , starred review) cultural history takes us from the performance halls of 19th-century London to the aerobics studios of the 1980s, the music video set of Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” and the mountains of Arizona, where every year humans and horses race in a feat of gluteal endurance. Along the way, she meets evolutionary biologists who study how butts first developed; models whose measurements have defined jean sizing for millions of women; and the fitness gurus who created fads like “Buns of Steel.” She also examines the central importance of race through figures like Sarah Bartmann, once known as the “Venus Hottentot,” Josephine Baker, Jennifer Lopez, and other women of color whose butts have been idolized, envied, and despised.
Part deep dive reportage, part personal journey, part cabinet of curiosities, Butts is an entertaining, illuminating, and thoughtful examination of why certain silhouettes come in and out of fashion—and how larger ideas about race, control, liberation, and power affect our most private feelings about ourselves and others.
320 pages, Paperback
First published November 29, 2022
517 people are currently reading
45970 people want to read
About the author
Heather Radke
1 book104 followersHeather Radke is a contributing editor and reporter at Radiolab, the Peabody-award winning podcast from WNYC. She has written essays, criticism, and reported pieces for The Paris Review Daily, The Believer, Guernica, Topic, Longreads, The White Review, and others.
She holds an MFA in nonfiction from Columbia University, where she teaches creative writing. She also founded the Incarcerated Writer’s Initiative there.
Before relocating to New York, she lived in Chicago for almost a decade, where she worked at the Jane Addams Hull-House Museum, wrote about social practice art and the history of Chicago, and lectured on Hull-House, Jane Addams, historic house museums, and innovative curatorial practice at historic sites.
She holds an MFA in nonfiction from Columbia University, where she teaches creative writing. She also founded the Incarcerated Writer’s Initiative there.
Before relocating to New York, she lived in Chicago for almost a decade, where she worked at the Jane Addams Hull-House Museum, wrote about social practice art and the history of Chicago, and lectured on Hull-House, Jane Addams, historic house museums, and innovative curatorial practice at historic sites.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,677 reviews
January 3, 2023
I requested this book on my Christmas list, along with a history of the Oxford Dictionary. As my husband put it, I wanted books about things that are thick.
I married the best guy.
Seriously, though, a history of butts sounds like kind of a ridiculous premise for a book but Heather Radke has done a fantastic job. To call this "a history of butts" may be the most pithy and eye-catching description, but it is actually a little misleading. While it opens with a bit on how and why humans evolved butts that are more fatty than the rear ends of other animals, it primarily focuses on how the "ideal" body has changed over the last 200 or so years and how women's butts reflect those changes. Radke infuses her exploration with a strong, intersectional feminist slant, looking at how sexism and racism have informed everything from the so-called Hottentot Venus of the early 19th century through to the Buns of Steel craze, Sir Mix-A-Lot, JLo, and Miley Cyrus.
Butts: A Backstory is my favorite kind of nonfiction: tackling a curious subject in an approachable way, and a little cheeky (pun only kind of intended). I learned so much from this book and I thoroughly recommend it to anyone who doesn't mind a few posterior-based puns. It's great to start the new year out on such a high note.
I married the best guy.
Seriously, though, a history of butts sounds like kind of a ridiculous premise for a book but Heather Radke has done a fantastic job. To call this "a history of butts" may be the most pithy and eye-catching description, but it is actually a little misleading. While it opens with a bit on how and why humans evolved butts that are more fatty than the rear ends of other animals, it primarily focuses on how the "ideal" body has changed over the last 200 or so years and how women's butts reflect those changes. Radke infuses her exploration with a strong, intersectional feminist slant, looking at how sexism and racism have informed everything from the so-called Hottentot Venus of the early 19th century through to the Buns of Steel craze, Sir Mix-A-Lot, JLo, and Miley Cyrus.
Butts: A Backstory is my favorite kind of nonfiction: tackling a curious subject in an approachable way, and a little cheeky (pun only kind of intended). I learned so much from this book and I thoroughly recommend it to anyone who doesn't mind a few posterior-based puns. It's great to start the new year out on such a high note.
June 25, 2022
Butts! Can't live without them, can't live without them!
This is a fun book, which is not a descriptor usually at the forefront of a nonfiction work. Radke is certainly ambitious, melding history, personal anecdotes, scholarly research, feminist political frameworks, and plenty of pop culture, all in a relatively short work. I am not sure there is enough room for all of this, which Radke acknowledges early on, trying to get ahead of the problem by saying her work does not claim to be an exhaustive history or political analysis of the butt.
I actually craved more historical analysis to understand how our collective opinion of the butt has mutated over the years. I am largely familiar with the shifts of the last sixty years, and chapters on the Flappers or European history were more engaging to me, personally. In 2022, if you don't have you head in your own aforementioned butt, you are likely aware already that fitness programs can tend to focus on bodily sculpting instead of holistic health, or that the illusions of modeling (and now Instagram) can create unrealistic expectations for young women.
The pop culture analysis--which I largely agreed with--tended to be repetitive or superficial. It is largely the cultural analysis of Twitter 2022, grafted onto whatever historical pivot point or social phenomena she is talking about. Which is fine, although it echoes one of my largest complaints about academia, in that, when stripped of the bullshit, it usually lapses into the prolix to make the same damn point over and over.
This is a fun book, which is not a descriptor usually at the forefront of a nonfiction work. Radke is certainly ambitious, melding history, personal anecdotes, scholarly research, feminist political frameworks, and plenty of pop culture, all in a relatively short work. I am not sure there is enough room for all of this, which Radke acknowledges early on, trying to get ahead of the problem by saying her work does not claim to be an exhaustive history or political analysis of the butt.
I actually craved more historical analysis to understand how our collective opinion of the butt has mutated over the years. I am largely familiar with the shifts of the last sixty years, and chapters on the Flappers or European history were more engaging to me, personally. In 2022, if you don't have you head in your own aforementioned butt, you are likely aware already that fitness programs can tend to focus on bodily sculpting instead of holistic health, or that the illusions of modeling (and now Instagram) can create unrealistic expectations for young women.
The pop culture analysis--which I largely agreed with--tended to be repetitive or superficial. It is largely the cultural analysis of Twitter 2022, grafted onto whatever historical pivot point or social phenomena she is talking about. Which is fine, although it echoes one of my largest complaints about academia, in that, when stripped of the bullshit, it usually lapses into the prolix to make the same damn point over and over.
February 10, 2023
I’m trying to get to the bottom of why this book ultimately didn’t resonate with me. I mean, it’s not like it all went to shit or anything, but I definitely started dragging my tail end whenever I tried to take a seat to read it - especially the closer I got to the backside cover. I don’t mean to be an arse about it - it’s a good book that doesn’t deserve to become the butt of any jokes - but when I finally reached the rear after eight hours of listening, I admit I was sort of like, hey book, don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out. As cheeky as that sounds! In hindsight, I guess it’s time to put it all behind me!
April 4, 2022
Butts, silly as they may often seem, are tremendously complex symbols, fraught with significance and nuance, laden with humor and sex, shame and history. Women’s butts have been used as a means to create and reinforce racial hierarchies, as a barometer for the virtues of hard work, and as a measure of sexual desire and availability. Despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that there is little a person can do to dramatically change the way their butt looks without surgical intervention, the shape and size of a woman’s butt has long been a perceived indicator of her very nature — her morality, her femininity, and even her humanity.
Early in Butts: A Backstory, author Heather Radke dismantles the “adaptationism” theories of evolutionary psychology — the notion that perceived sexual markers, like a peacock’s tail or a woman’s rear end, signal reproductive health to prospective mates (which is what I know I had been taught) instead of being merely physical artefacts of some minor modification that happened along the way — and offers instead the idea that, when it comes to women’s butts, the attractiveness and meaning of these incidental mounds of muscle and fat is entirely culturally imposed. In the West, the idea of what attractive backsides look like has varied greatly over the years — from extravagant Victorian bustles to narrow-hipped flappers; from hardened Buns of Steel to bulbous Kardashian belfies — and while these standards have generally been determined by straight, white men, women from all walks of life have endured the incessant evaluation of a body part they can’t even properly see. More social commentary than straight-up science, Radke looks at the cultural meaning of the female butt from many fascinating angles, and with writing that is equal parts informal and journalistic, she presents an eye-opening overview of something I had never given much thought to at all. Engaging and provoking, I’m rounding up to five stars. (Note: I read an ARC through NetGalley and passages quoted may not be in their final forms.)
Because of the power long held in science, politics, media, and the realms of culture and politics, white people, men, and straight people have always maintained an inordinate amount of influence and control over what meanings are applied to bodies. They have invented and enforced ideas of what is normal and what is deviant, what is “mainstream” and what is marginal. By looking closely at how people in power have constructed those meanings, my hope is that I will make visible something that often feels invisible: the deep historical roots of why women seem to have so many — and so many contradictory — feelings about their butts. I wanted to understand why butts have come to mean so much, when they could very well mean nothing at all.
Throughout, Radke makes the case that there is a pernicious racial dimension to the evaluation of the female butt (and particularly with the belief that Black women have the largest butts — which white men take as an invitation to sexual advances and which white women envy and feel threatened by.) She tells the story of Sarah Baartman — the so-called “Hottentot Venus”, an enslaved South African of the Khoe tribe — whose butt was so tremendous that she was brought to England in 1810, where she was put on display in a nude body stocking for Brits to pinch and poke with their umbrellas. (More egregiously, Baartman’s various body parts were put on permanent display in Paris’ National Museum of Natural History after her death.) Radke draws a line between this “scientific” fascination with large behinds and the eventual fashion for bustles (with the added bonus for white women that they could present this alluring racialised silhouette in public and remove it in private.) This chimes with one of the last stories in the book: After Miley Cyrus infamously “twerked” onstage at the MTV VMAs (a dance, appropriated from the Black community, that goes back to New Orleans’ antebellum Congo Square) Cyrus apparently made twerking a part of her concert tour, strapping on a huge padded butt for her performances (a racialised act, which could then be undone in private.)
In between, Radke covers ‘20s flappers and the eugenicists of the 1940s (who were trying to determine what a “normal” [read: “white”] shape looked like); fashion, “ready to wear” clothing, and drag queens; exercise trends, surgical fixes, and the music industry. As for the last: I was intrigued to learn that Sir Mix-a-Lot didn’t think of “Baby Got Back” as a novelty song; it was meant as a political statement, a push back against the time’s media preference for skinny white women. And while that song and its video might serve more to objectify than extol Black women and their butts (they are presented by and for the male gaze), Nicki Minaj takes ownership of her own body and its meaning by sampling “Baby Got Back” in “Anaconda” (and I would have never considered the cultural importance of either song without this book, and I now feel like I should have been paying attention.)
In so many ways, butts ask us to turn away, to giggle with hot-faced shame and roll our eyes. When I started writing this book, I wondered what would happen if I instead turned my full attention toward the butt, if I investigated its history and asked butt experts and enthusiasts of all stripes — scientists, drag queens, dance instructors, historians, and archivists — serious questions about what butts are and what butts mean. In doing so, I found stories of tragedy, anger, oppression, lust, and joy. And I found that in our bodies, we carry histories.
I don’t know if I was entirely convinced that attraction to the female butt is primarily generated by popular culture (evolutionary psychology is a hard theory for me to shake off based on a couple of quotes), but as an examination of how cultural trends pressure women to conform to shifting, impossible beauty ideals (even the eugenicists couldn’t find a woman to represent the “norm”), and how those pressures are felt differently to women of different (primarily different racial) groups over time, this work is scholarly, wide-ranging, and surprising; exactly the kind of thing I like.
July 7, 2023
Radke explores the assigned meanings of and cultural associations with the female butt in Western culture, and the result is smart and hilarious. A mixture of personal experiences, interview bits, research, historical information, pop culture and societal as well as political analysis, the text becomes most vivid when the author illustrates phenomena via the stories of individual women, among them Sarah Baartman, who was displayed in freak shows in the 19th century as the "Hottentot Venus", made to represent the racist and sexist trope of Black female hypersexuality, or Tamilee Webb, who became rich during the aerobics wave as the instructor of the "Buns of Steel" videos.
Radke also discusses Kate Moss' heroin chic, J.Lo's, and, of course, Kim Kardashian's derrières, as well as Miley Cyrus' appropriation of twerking and Sir Mix-a-Lot's "Baby Got Back" which replaces racist white beauty standards ("Oh my God, Becky / Look at her butt /... I mean, gross / She's just so black") with other very strict ideas about female looks (thin waste, big butt). And the list of topics goes on.
This is a very entertaining book that is also packed with research and cultural commentary. Good stuff.
Radke also discusses Kate Moss' heroin chic, J.Lo's, and, of course, Kim Kardashian's derrières, as well as Miley Cyrus' appropriation of twerking and Sir Mix-a-Lot's "Baby Got Back" which replaces racist white beauty standards ("Oh my God, Becky / Look at her butt /... I mean, gross / She's just so black") with other very strict ideas about female looks (thin waste, big butt). And the list of topics goes on.
This is a very entertaining book that is also packed with research and cultural commentary. Good stuff.
December 27, 2022
Butts: A Backstory is an interesting and occasionally educational book, but it really doesn't deliver as advertised. The history of the human buttocks is a curious and complicated subject for a book, embracing the topics of evolution, culture/sociology, and sexuality. Radke makes clear from the start that she is going to refine her subject as the female butt and strictly the butt, rather than a further inclusive exploration of the anus. Fair enough, but this is still an enormous subject, and precious little of the subject matter makes its way into the pages, much to my frustration and disappointment as I read.
The blurb for Butts: A Backstory talks about the duality of Butts as cultural symbols, from objects of sexual desire to points of derision and humor, and in the forward to the book, Radke elaborates on this concept, talking about the various expressions in English that embrace butts, from "working your butt off" to "falling on your ass" to being a "butthead," or "buttface," etc. From this intro, I figured the book would really delve widely into an exploration of the cultural dimensions of attitudes about buttocks. I was curious to hear how foreign languages and cultures (ie. non-American and non-English) interact with butts, and how they have done so throughout history. I was especially curious to see what Radke would have to say about Asia. I reckoned that humor and derision associated with butts would have broad implications, embracing cultural characters like Assy McGee, Ace Ventura, and Beavis and Butthead, and I was curious to hear what Radke would make of the odd waxing and waning of butt humor through the years and across cultures, with fart jokes being popular in 18th century Europe, for example.
Alas, Butts: A Backstory isn't a broad exploration of butts on any kind of historic or multicultural scale at all. Instead, Radke sets out to put her own anxieties and discomfort about what she describes as her own large butt into personal historical context by exclusively focusing on attitudes and culture surrounding women in Britain and the United States from the late 19th century to the present. This focus isn't entirely consistent, as there is some discussion of gay men and a bit of divergent material about evolutionary biology, but more or less, this book is an Anglo-focused exploration that centers on cultural hangups and appropriation of African Americans by white Americans. This is an interesting and important and valuable topic for exploration, but the history that Radke traces, from the exploitation of Sarah Baartman to Victorian Era bustles, to flappers to Marilyn Monroe, to Buns of Steel and Aerobics, to Jay Lo and twerking, isn't really a backstory of butts at all. It is the history of mass culture in America and Britain with respect to female bodies and associated hangups. It also is very far from an exhaustive exploration of same. For example, Radke never talks about nudity in films and the odd distinctions between showing breasts and showing buttocks, and the strange practice of butt doubles.
So... Butts: A Backstory feels like an odd book to review. The jacket summary and the writer's forward promise an exploration of a subject that the book doesn't explore. The subject omitted is a rich and complicated and interesting one. The subject that the book does explore is also interesting, but it isn't really about butts at all, as Radke actually tacitly points at the end of the book, where she admits that she could have been writing about almost any part of the female body. There is a lot of grist in the subject of butts—how and why American culture can simultaneously be obsessed with them and extremely uptight about them, laugh about them and mock them and slaver over them, etc. But, how does this strange duality compare with other cultures and with other cultures throughout history? Moreover, the weird cultural fixation on different racial types of butts... is there actually anything to it genetically? Are Asian hips and glutes actually any different from European ones?
I generally try to rate books based on what they strive to be rather than on what I might most prefer a book to be, but I think this book was badly mispackaged and misleadingly sold. The cover tries to be cute and lascivious. The author's forward promises an exploration of a subject that the subsequent pages entirely abandon. The book that does result is interesting, but quite narrow, and it misses and avoids most of what I was curious to read about. My feeling is that it's somewhere between 2 and 3 stars for quality of research and writing, but my general aggravation at being misled drops a star. Meh. I'd say that this is a decent read if you're interested in the actual subject, which is about white Anglo obsession with perceptions of black women's sexuality, but don't read this book if you are curious to learn about the sociology of buttocks.
The blurb for Butts: A Backstory talks about the duality of Butts as cultural symbols, from objects of sexual desire to points of derision and humor, and in the forward to the book, Radke elaborates on this concept, talking about the various expressions in English that embrace butts, from "working your butt off" to "falling on your ass" to being a "butthead," or "buttface," etc. From this intro, I figured the book would really delve widely into an exploration of the cultural dimensions of attitudes about buttocks. I was curious to hear how foreign languages and cultures (ie. non-American and non-English) interact with butts, and how they have done so throughout history. I was especially curious to see what Radke would have to say about Asia. I reckoned that humor and derision associated with butts would have broad implications, embracing cultural characters like Assy McGee, Ace Ventura, and Beavis and Butthead, and I was curious to hear what Radke would make of the odd waxing and waning of butt humor through the years and across cultures, with fart jokes being popular in 18th century Europe, for example.
Alas, Butts: A Backstory isn't a broad exploration of butts on any kind of historic or multicultural scale at all. Instead, Radke sets out to put her own anxieties and discomfort about what she describes as her own large butt into personal historical context by exclusively focusing on attitudes and culture surrounding women in Britain and the United States from the late 19th century to the present. This focus isn't entirely consistent, as there is some discussion of gay men and a bit of divergent material about evolutionary biology, but more or less, this book is an Anglo-focused exploration that centers on cultural hangups and appropriation of African Americans by white Americans. This is an interesting and important and valuable topic for exploration, but the history that Radke traces, from the exploitation of Sarah Baartman to Victorian Era bustles, to flappers to Marilyn Monroe, to Buns of Steel and Aerobics, to Jay Lo and twerking, isn't really a backstory of butts at all. It is the history of mass culture in America and Britain with respect to female bodies and associated hangups. It also is very far from an exhaustive exploration of same. For example, Radke never talks about nudity in films and the odd distinctions between showing breasts and showing buttocks, and the strange practice of butt doubles.
So... Butts: A Backstory feels like an odd book to review. The jacket summary and the writer's forward promise an exploration of a subject that the book doesn't explore. The subject omitted is a rich and complicated and interesting one. The subject that the book does explore is also interesting, but it isn't really about butts at all, as Radke actually tacitly points at the end of the book, where she admits that she could have been writing about almost any part of the female body. There is a lot of grist in the subject of butts—how and why American culture can simultaneously be obsessed with them and extremely uptight about them, laugh about them and mock them and slaver over them, etc. But, how does this strange duality compare with other cultures and with other cultures throughout history? Moreover, the weird cultural fixation on different racial types of butts... is there actually anything to it genetically? Are Asian hips and glutes actually any different from European ones?
I generally try to rate books based on what they strive to be rather than on what I might most prefer a book to be, but I think this book was badly mispackaged and misleadingly sold. The cover tries to be cute and lascivious. The author's forward promises an exploration of a subject that the subsequent pages entirely abandon. The book that does result is interesting, but quite narrow, and it misses and avoids most of what I was curious to read about. My feeling is that it's somewhere between 2 and 3 stars for quality of research and writing, but my general aggravation at being misled drops a star. Meh. I'd say that this is a decent read if you're interested in the actual subject, which is about white Anglo obsession with perceptions of black women's sexuality, but don't read this book if you are curious to learn about the sociology of buttocks.
December 2, 2022
The topic is interesting enough, but where this book really stands apart from similar work is the incredible writing. Radke’s tone and texture really flow incredibly well as the book blends cultural writing with history. I wouldn’t say it’s an absolute must read, but it is so well done that I think people would love it if they pick it up. Great, quick read if you’re need help getting out of a slump.
May 21, 2022
This was one of those books that held so much excitement initially but ended up being a painful chore to get through. I think it boiled down to just not being a fan of the writing style and the injection of the author herself and her opinions in so much of the narrative. The summary likened this to the work of Mary Roach, one of my favorite non-fiction authors, so perhaps that put Radke at an unfair disadvantage for me. Regardless, aside from a few interesting tidbits from a handful of chapters, this wasn't the "story about butts" that I had been expecting. It ran too long and meandered in focus too much for me to keep a focus. Unfortunately, Radke is no Mary Roach.
ARC provided by NetGalley
ARC provided by NetGalley
December 13, 2022
The first half of the book is a great analysis of times long past in which the "cabinet of curiosities" during some troubling times in human history took fascination and intrigue with the butt (among other things) from people of color and labeling it categorizing it, and, quite literally, dissenting it. But the book reads like it has a vendetta from the beginning, Radke does great work in the prose to make it interesting in this half, but the book feels like the conclusion is already written, we just have to get there.
The middle and latter parts of the book just look to women of color and how they've managed to leverage an asset (ha) into fame and fortune as though it is wrong. As we move towards a society that embraces each person as an individual, and take them as they are (and we have a long way to go) the book seems intent on pointing out how people like Jennifer Lopez and Miley Cyrus (for twerking) are wrong for what they've accomplished. The book does a disservice in these cases because it ignores the awards and accolades the artist may have collected in addition to have an ample backside. Jennifer Lopez was great in Out of Sight, but you wouldn't know, you're lead to believe she got the job because of her butt, not her acting chops.
While the historical analysis is great, the Instagram-loathed backend (ha) isn't as good, the book never really clicked with something I had looked forward to reading through as a fun, non-fiction look at Sir Rump. The narrow focus on western appropriation of culture without looking at other parts of the world is glaring and, while specified as a look at women's butts and the intrigue, male butts could also factor into the conversation. Why are they not as sought after or studied? One of the most famous butts in the world on the back of the Michelangelo is viewed by thousands each day, one could discuss how art, history and even present day factors into the human race as a whole.
The middle and latter parts of the book just look to women of color and how they've managed to leverage an asset (ha) into fame and fortune as though it is wrong. As we move towards a society that embraces each person as an individual, and take them as they are (and we have a long way to go) the book seems intent on pointing out how people like Jennifer Lopez and Miley Cyrus (for twerking) are wrong for what they've accomplished. The book does a disservice in these cases because it ignores the awards and accolades the artist may have collected in addition to have an ample backside. Jennifer Lopez was great in Out of Sight, but you wouldn't know, you're lead to believe she got the job because of her butt, not her acting chops.
While the historical analysis is great, the Instagram-loathed backend (ha) isn't as good, the book never really clicked with something I had looked forward to reading through as a fun, non-fiction look at Sir Rump. The narrow focus on western appropriation of culture without looking at other parts of the world is glaring and, while specified as a look at women's butts and the intrigue, male butts could also factor into the conversation. Why are they not as sought after or studied? One of the most famous butts in the world on the back of the Michelangelo is viewed by thousands each day, one could discuss how art, history and even present day factors into the human race as a whole.
December 25, 2023
My thanks to libro.fm and Simon and Schuster Audio for an ALC of this book to listen to and review.
I just did not enjoy this book. I wasn't expecting salaciousness and it was not salacious, but I was expecting well researched and even, middle of the line reporting of facts, letting the reader/listener come to their own conclusions. What I got was being force-fed someone's slanted interpretation of the facts.
Now, I am not saying that interpretation is WRONG, just that I didn't like to be TOLD how to understand the facts that were being relayed. I want science fact with both sides of the story, without accusing either side of being wrong/evil/stupid. I want to look at the facts presented and maybe do my own research and come to my own conclusions. I sure as heck don't want politics or emotion to enter into science and fact. That just clouds the issues being discussed and takes away any credibility of the presenter of the information.
Again, not saying what is presented as fact is wrong, just that I didn't appreciate being told how I should think about the facts given. No one likes being preached down to. I had a very strong, negative reaction to this book that did not enable me to parse out the wheat from the chaff. That is how I related to the book and I probably read it wrong.
1, I read a lot of books wrong, stars.
I just did not enjoy this book. I wasn't expecting salaciousness and it was not salacious, but I was expecting well researched and even, middle of the line reporting of facts, letting the reader/listener come to their own conclusions. What I got was being force-fed someone's slanted interpretation of the facts.
Now, I am not saying that interpretation is WRONG, just that I didn't like to be TOLD how to understand the facts that were being relayed. I want science fact with both sides of the story, without accusing either side of being wrong/evil/stupid. I want to look at the facts presented and maybe do my own research and come to my own conclusions. I sure as heck don't want politics or emotion to enter into science and fact. That just clouds the issues being discussed and takes away any credibility of the presenter of the information.
Again, not saying what is presented as fact is wrong, just that I didn't appreciate being told how I should think about the facts given. No one likes being preached down to. I had a very strong, negative reaction to this book that did not enable me to parse out the wheat from the chaff. That is how I related to the book and I probably read it wrong.
1, I read a lot of books wrong, stars.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 12, 2022
Butts: a Backstory is exactly the type of nonfiction I enjoy most. A plethora of fascinating details centered around a unifying theme. Heather Radke hooked me with some amusing posterior phrasing then took deep dives into such varied topics as anatomy and physiology, anthropology, sexual selection, the history of women’s fashion, exercise, pop culture icons, and dance. Through well thought out sequencing and segues she proceeded to shift my perspective on intersectional feminism and my own behind. It was an excellent read that I highly recommend.
Review copy provided via Net Galley.
Review copy provided via Net Galley.
February 8, 2023
This was a fun book, just as the cover and (extremely good) title promised. Butts: A Backstory is a cultural microhistory of the butt that pretty much covers every aspect of it that you would want or expect it to.
We start with the evolutionary purpose of the butt and then move on to such topics as: Sarah Baartman (“The Hottentot Venus”, and why everything about what happened to her and even that moniker is super racist and tragic); the impact of butts on fashion and the impact of fashion on butts (where did bustles come from? why can you never find a pair of jeans that fit? and why is everything so tragically linked to eugenics?); re-explorations of Josephine Baker, Jennifer Lopez, Sir Mix-A-Lot (“Baby Got Back”), Miley Cyrus (along with a history of twerking), and the Buns of Steel phenomenon.
It was entertaining, informative, and thought-provoking. I had a great time, and you should check this book out if you, too, want to be informed and thought-provoked while having a great time. I also recommend the audiobook. The introduction is read by the author (a veteran of RadioLab*), and then Emily Tremaine takes over, and she does such a great job I kept forgetting the author wasn’t reading the book herself.
*In fact, I first heard from this author about butts on her RadioLab episode, “Butt Stuff,” which covers the same material as the evolutionary chapter (but with more info on the man vs. horse race in AZ), though it has been reworked for this book. The podcast ep is fun, though, so check it out!
[4.5 stars]
We start with the evolutionary purpose of the butt and then move on to such topics as: Sarah Baartman (“The Hottentot Venus”, and why everything about what happened to her and even that moniker is super racist and tragic); the impact of butts on fashion and the impact of fashion on butts (where did bustles come from? why can you never find a pair of jeans that fit? and why is everything so tragically linked to eugenics?); re-explorations of Josephine Baker, Jennifer Lopez, Sir Mix-A-Lot (“Baby Got Back”), Miley Cyrus (along with a history of twerking), and the Buns of Steel phenomenon.
It was entertaining, informative, and thought-provoking. I had a great time, and you should check this book out if you, too, want to be informed and thought-provoked while having a great time. I also recommend the audiobook. The introduction is read by the author (a veteran of RadioLab*), and then Emily Tremaine takes over, and she does such a great job I kept forgetting the author wasn’t reading the book herself.
*In fact, I first heard from this author about butts on her RadioLab episode, “Butt Stuff,” which covers the same material as the evolutionary chapter (but with more info on the man vs. horse race in AZ), though it has been reworked for this book. The podcast ep is fun, though, so check it out!
[4.5 stars]
December 4, 2022
Let’s just get this out of the way: yes, that title is brilliant.
Butts: A Backstory is a deep dive into our cultural fascination in the West with butts, and specifically women’s butts. Heather Radke—a curvy, queer white woman—wanted to know why we’re so hooked on butts, and because she’s a journalist, naturally she wants all of us to know why too. Frankly, I’m glad. Thanks to NetGalley and Avid Reader Press for the eARC in exchange for a review.
Radke quickly rejects evolutionary psychological explanations for our obsession with butts. She thoroughly explains why evolutionary psychology, unlike evolutionary biology, is unreliable and pseudoscientific. While we have plenty of possible theories for the adaptive value of the butt, its role in sexual selection might forever be occluded by that pesky thing called culture.
So Radke investigates how, in Western society at least, we started to care so much about what was behind us. She begins the story in South Africa and London, tracing the life as best she can of Sarah Baartman, a Khoe woman who became better known as the “Venus Hottentot.” Is it any surprise that our obsession with butts is wrapped up in Europe’s history of white supremacy? Of course not. For centuries now, white Europeans have sought to hypersexualize and dehumanize people of African descent. Therefore it is no coincidence that big butts became associated with Black people while the ideal—embodied, of course, by white people—was a flat, more demure behind.
From this inauspicious beginning, Radke moves through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Much of our journey centres upon fashion: the bustle, changing hemlines, the flappers, etc. Some of it, too, is rooted in celebrity and media, from the starlets of the early twentieth century to the models and music videos of the nineties. Exercise fads and diets come and go. The one constant? Change. Sometimes big butts are in, sometimes out. The message, however, is the same: for women, your butt is a synecdoche. A sign of how well you meet your generation’s ideal of femininity.
Radke echoes this in some of her personal anecdotes throughout the book. She would tag along, as a young girl, on her mother’s shopping mall trips. Changing room try-ons and the betrayals of clothes—or bodies. For, you see, that’s how Radke reports her mother framing the situation, language that she then inherited: my butt is too big. Never that the clothes are wrong, but rather her body is wrong. Whoa.
So of course I thought about my body. All my life I have had thin privilege, have never had to contend with being called or understood to be fat. Most of my problems with clothes not fitting are a result of my height rather than waist, hips, or weight. As an asexual person, I didn’t really pay much attention to others’ bodies, and I never thought of myself as a sexual being—and because, for the first thirty years of my life, we all thought I was a man, most of the world seemed content to let that be the case.
I thought my issues with my body came largely from how it was changing as my metabolism slowed. Then I realized no, it was because deep down I knew my body didn’t match with my idea of who I am, especially my gender.
Transition, then, has done wonders for my confidence in my body. But the euphoria I feel from how my body changes—hair growing, skin softening, curves emerging—is also accompanied by the unease that many women feel in our society. I want curves because I want to feel more feminine, yes, but surely some of my desire for a curvy booty comes from internalized ideas of beauty from my coming-of-age in the first decade of the twenty-first century.
So here I am in this liminal space of wanting to accept my body as it is yet also wanting to change it. Therefore, despite the butt holding very little fascination for me as a symbol of sexual attraction, I definitely understand the hold it has over us as a symbol of femininity, of my femininity. Reading Butts has helped me think about my body against the backdrop of our wider cultural and historical zeitgeist.
This is a thoughtful, thorough treatment of a topic that many might dismiss as childish or prurient. Their loss. I might not be enamoured with butts, but I was enamoured with Butts.
Originally posted on Kara.Reviews, where you can easily browse all my reviews and subscribe to my newsletter.
Butts: A Backstory is a deep dive into our cultural fascination in the West with butts, and specifically women’s butts. Heather Radke—a curvy, queer white woman—wanted to know why we’re so hooked on butts, and because she’s a journalist, naturally she wants all of us to know why too. Frankly, I’m glad. Thanks to NetGalley and Avid Reader Press for the eARC in exchange for a review.
Radke quickly rejects evolutionary psychological explanations for our obsession with butts. She thoroughly explains why evolutionary psychology, unlike evolutionary biology, is unreliable and pseudoscientific. While we have plenty of possible theories for the adaptive value of the butt, its role in sexual selection might forever be occluded by that pesky thing called culture.
So Radke investigates how, in Western society at least, we started to care so much about what was behind us. She begins the story in South Africa and London, tracing the life as best she can of Sarah Baartman, a Khoe woman who became better known as the “Venus Hottentot.” Is it any surprise that our obsession with butts is wrapped up in Europe’s history of white supremacy? Of course not. For centuries now, white Europeans have sought to hypersexualize and dehumanize people of African descent. Therefore it is no coincidence that big butts became associated with Black people while the ideal—embodied, of course, by white people—was a flat, more demure behind.
From this inauspicious beginning, Radke moves through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Much of our journey centres upon fashion: the bustle, changing hemlines, the flappers, etc. Some of it, too, is rooted in celebrity and media, from the starlets of the early twentieth century to the models and music videos of the nineties. Exercise fads and diets come and go. The one constant? Change. Sometimes big butts are in, sometimes out. The message, however, is the same: for women, your butt is a synecdoche. A sign of how well you meet your generation’s ideal of femininity.
Radke echoes this in some of her personal anecdotes throughout the book. She would tag along, as a young girl, on her mother’s shopping mall trips. Changing room try-ons and the betrayals of clothes—or bodies. For, you see, that’s how Radke reports her mother framing the situation, language that she then inherited: my butt is too big. Never that the clothes are wrong, but rather her body is wrong. Whoa.
So of course I thought about my body. All my life I have had thin privilege, have never had to contend with being called or understood to be fat. Most of my problems with clothes not fitting are a result of my height rather than waist, hips, or weight. As an asexual person, I didn’t really pay much attention to others’ bodies, and I never thought of myself as a sexual being—and because, for the first thirty years of my life, we all thought I was a man, most of the world seemed content to let that be the case.
I thought my issues with my body came largely from how it was changing as my metabolism slowed. Then I realized no, it was because deep down I knew my body didn’t match with my idea of who I am, especially my gender.
Transition, then, has done wonders for my confidence in my body. But the euphoria I feel from how my body changes—hair growing, skin softening, curves emerging—is also accompanied by the unease that many women feel in our society. I want curves because I want to feel more feminine, yes, but surely some of my desire for a curvy booty comes from internalized ideas of beauty from my coming-of-age in the first decade of the twenty-first century.
So here I am in this liminal space of wanting to accept my body as it is yet also wanting to change it. Therefore, despite the butt holding very little fascination for me as a symbol of sexual attraction, I definitely understand the hold it has over us as a symbol of femininity, of my femininity. Reading Butts has helped me think about my body against the backdrop of our wider cultural and historical zeitgeist.
This is a thoughtful, thorough treatment of a topic that many might dismiss as childish or prurient. Their loss. I might not be enamoured with butts, but I was enamoured with Butts.
Originally posted on Kara.Reviews, where you can easily browse all my reviews and subscribe to my newsletter.
November 14, 2022
“Butts: A Backstory” was very informative. I wouldn’t say it had me hooked at every single part, I found the scientific/biological historical sections a little bit info-dumpy, but overall, those were balanced with the most interesting parts: the modern era cultural impact of the “big butts” in America’s society. The chapters about Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “Baby Got Back”, Jennifer Lopez’s butt obsession, Kate Moss’s experience while doing work for Calvin Klein and the 80’s rise of women’s aerobics video-mania were the parts I enjoyed most. This book focuses mostly on American population and social-cultural issues, so as a foreign myself, I did not find it that much relatable, it was an interesting piece of journalist investigation that I don’t regret having read. 3.5 stars.
November 30, 2023
Pick a lane or land the plane.
Perhaps what started as a magazine article should have stayed as a magazine article. This book didn’t go deep enough to be academic and didn’t stay light enough to be a puff piece.
Butts as a through line? Debatable. It was much like licking a little icing of each of cupcake on the dessert plate. Touching on race, fitness, drag, gender, feminism, entertainment politics, fashion, body dysmorphia, and other current social issues while still being semi autobiographical had me wishing the author would just GO THERE already. Rather, it was very surface and very safe. This book skated over many tough social topics, never really digging in. Maybe I wasn’t the right audience for this book?
The author herself questions what this book is really about. I’d say, definitely not butts (a let down). The main topic revisited was the parallel between butts, black culture, and cultural appropriation, yet ultimately centering on the author’s lived experiences therefore exemplifying the numerous examples displayed in this book of taking on aspects of bpoc culture when it benefits them, and taking it off when it doesn’t.
Why the scathe review along with 3 stars?
First Star - This may be a great book for a young or new audience who are in the early learning stages of social and racial injustice and politics. Touching on a little of a lot of topics is a great place to start.
Second Star - If you need simple known topics described to you as though you know nothing, you’ll get that.
Third Star - I do like the idea of fashion telling about history what is true rather than what was written. It made me want to find a different book that deep dives into this. So, extra star for next book inspo.
Perhaps what started as a magazine article should have stayed as a magazine article. This book didn’t go deep enough to be academic and didn’t stay light enough to be a puff piece.
Butts as a through line? Debatable. It was much like licking a little icing of each of cupcake on the dessert plate. Touching on race, fitness, drag, gender, feminism, entertainment politics, fashion, body dysmorphia, and other current social issues while still being semi autobiographical had me wishing the author would just GO THERE already. Rather, it was very surface and very safe. This book skated over many tough social topics, never really digging in. Maybe I wasn’t the right audience for this book?
The author herself questions what this book is really about. I’d say, definitely not butts (a let down). The main topic revisited was the parallel between butts, black culture, and cultural appropriation, yet ultimately centering on the author’s lived experiences therefore exemplifying the numerous examples displayed in this book of taking on aspects of bpoc culture when it benefits them, and taking it off when it doesn’t.
Why the scathe review along with 3 stars?
First Star - This may be a great book for a young or new audience who are in the early learning stages of social and racial injustice and politics. Touching on a little of a lot of topics is a great place to start.
Second Star - If you need simple known topics described to you as though you know nothing, you’ll get that.
Third Star - I do like the idea of fashion telling about history what is true rather than what was written. It made me want to find a different book that deep dives into this. So, extra star for next book inspo.
January 9, 2024
There are so so many interesting people, events and historical facts buried underneath outrage-seeking conspiracy theories she makes up.
It seemed more like revenge project than a book of historic facts. I mean some ppl go to gym and do a make over, some work their butts off and buy a Ferrari and some write a sad sad book.
I mean in what world Jane Fonda is a racist sexist villain?
also other sexists and/or racists featured in the book are: J-Lo, Kate Moss, Sir Mix-a-Lot, Beyonce yes BEYONCE!, all the white ppl who like big butts, Miley Cyrus, ppl who don't like big butts, her highschool friends who played soccer and "effortlessly!" were in a good shape and she wasn't because some ppl have one of those bodies that are impossible to train; Kim Kardashian, and easter European YouTuber who does twerk instruction videos.
What a disappoint this book was.
It seemed more like revenge project than a book of historic facts. I mean some ppl go to gym and do a make over, some work their butts off and buy a Ferrari and some write a sad sad book.
I mean in what world Jane Fonda is a racist sexist villain?
also other sexists and/or racists featured in the book are: J-Lo, Kate Moss, Sir Mix-a-Lot, Beyonce yes BEYONCE!, all the white ppl who like big butts, Miley Cyrus, ppl who don't like big butts, her highschool friends who played soccer and "effortlessly!" were in a good shape and she wasn't because some ppl have one of those bodies that are impossible to train; Kim Kardashian, and easter European YouTuber who does twerk instruction videos.
What a disappoint this book was.
![Profile Image for laurel [the suspected bibliophile].](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fi.gr-assets.com%2Fimages%2FS%2Fcompressed.photo.goodreads.com%2Fusers%2F1645808644i%2F7494844._UX200_CR0%2C6%2C200%2C200_.jpg&w=128&q=75)
December 28, 2023
An often astute look into the history of the butt in history: mostly how it appears in pop culture and fashion.
(Mostly) Everyone has a butt, and it's often a topic of examination more than you'd think. From Kim Kardashion to Instagram Models to the peach emoji to Sir Mix-A-Lot to the fashions of yesteryear (the bustle and Coco Chanel and Buns of Steel and yoga butts and dumpies and slim-thick), the aspirational shape of a butt has waned and waxed throughout the past several centuries (and longer).
Often, large butts are tied to race and promiscuity, which also tie into to white supremacy. See: Sarah Baartman, whose tragic history bleeds through to today's pop culture obsession with large butts.
In examining the butt, Radke also shifts into assertive discussions on race, cultural appropriation, exoticism, sexualization and objectification, in addition to dives into eugenics, fashion and pop culture. In particular, she talks about how white women have commodified the butt as part of a dipping into and out of Black culture in order to be seen as relevant, hip, cool, while experiencing few to none of the social, economic and racial stigmas of Black women (Miley Cyrus gets a special little call-out).
A truly butty-ful read, and one that made me think a bit more on my backside and its astronomical properties.
(Mostly) Everyone has a butt, and it's often a topic of examination more than you'd think. From Kim Kardashion to Instagram Models to the peach emoji to Sir Mix-A-Lot to the fashions of yesteryear (the bustle and Coco Chanel and Buns of Steel and yoga butts and dumpies and slim-thick), the aspirational shape of a butt has waned and waxed throughout the past several centuries (and longer).
Often, large butts are tied to race and promiscuity, which also tie into to white supremacy. See: Sarah Baartman, whose tragic history bleeds through to today's pop culture obsession with large butts.
In examining the butt, Radke also shifts into assertive discussions on race, cultural appropriation, exoticism, sexualization and objectification, in addition to dives into eugenics, fashion and pop culture. In particular, she talks about how white women have commodified the butt as part of a dipping into and out of Black culture in order to be seen as relevant, hip, cool, while experiencing few to none of the social, economic and racial stigmas of Black women (Miley Cyrus gets a special little call-out).
A truly butty-ful read, and one that made me think a bit more on my backside and its astronomical properties.
May 14, 2024
Road-trip audiobook!
Based on the cover, I came into this expecting a fun look at butts in pop culture, but instead it is a serious and heavy look at body image, sexism, racism, and cultural appropriation that stretches back to the dawn of mankind with the evolutionary reasons that butts exist. There's still plenty of modern pop culture, but it is all deeply analyzed for its usually negative impact on women and/or Black people.
Despite my misconception, I quickly found myself fascinated by the subject matter, and it kept me engaged for the entirety of my long drive. Good stuff.
FOR REFERENCE:
Contents:
Introduction
Origins
• Muscle
• Fat
• Feathers
Sarah
• Life
• Legacy
Shape
• Bigness
• Smallness
Norma
• Creation
• Proliferation
• Resistance
Fit
• Steel
• Joy
Bootylicious
• Kate
• Mix
• Jennifer
• Kim
Motion
• Twerk
• Miley
• The Year of the Butt
• Reclamation
Conclusion
Acknowledgments
Notes
Index
Based on the cover, I came into this expecting a fun look at butts in pop culture, but instead it is a serious and heavy look at body image, sexism, racism, and cultural appropriation that stretches back to the dawn of mankind with the evolutionary reasons that butts exist. There's still plenty of modern pop culture, but it is all deeply analyzed for its usually negative impact on women and/or Black people.
Despite my misconception, I quickly found myself fascinated by the subject matter, and it kept me engaged for the entirety of my long drive. Good stuff.
FOR REFERENCE:
Contents:
Introduction
Origins
• Muscle
• Fat
• Feathers
Sarah
• Life
• Legacy
Shape
• Bigness
• Smallness
Norma
• Creation
• Proliferation
• Resistance
Fit
• Steel
• Joy
Bootylicious
• Kate
• Mix
• Jennifer
• Kim
Motion
• Twerk
• Miley
• The Year of the Butt
• Reclamation
Conclusion
Acknowledgments
Notes
Index
September 4, 2023
Based on the cover I was hoping for an amusing story about butts with interesting facts and history. Instead I got another white girl complaining about cultural appropriation and projecting her opinions on to everyone and everything she could find that could loosely relate to butts. Not worth the read
June 16, 2024
Read this in one sitting; it was fant-ass-tic! (sorry couldn't help myself) 😭
April 28, 2023
This book should not be called Butts: A Backstory, because such a title misleads that the content will be for all butts in the world: men, women; Chinese, Indian, USA, Brazilian, Turkish, Tajik, German, Canadian, etc. Well, everyone. And while the writer specifies at the very beginning that the book is only about women's butts and more precisely for white and black women butts in the West. But after finishing her book I feel that even this clarification of hers is not entirely correct and the book needs a new title. So for me the book should be called - Black Women's Big Butts: Racism and sexualization in Pop Culture in the West. Such a title is not ideal, because the stories told here are only from the USA and England with the special participation of France, but at least it would lead to less delusions in the possible reader.
Having specified the range that this book covers, it is time to move on to the actual content. The first thing that should be clear to a person starting to read this book is that here big butt = black butt and white butt = small butt. I've never thought that way in my life maybe because I'm white woman with a big butt from Eastern Europe. My bum is so big I can't buy a set of pajama bottoms and tops that fit. From the waist up I'm a size M and down I'm an XL. My mother is like that and my grandmother was like that. My butt and all the bruises I have because I keep bumping into things aren't the result of Kardashian fashion, they're my genes. And I'm no exception true of 15 girls it will be me and one other with big butts in any group but we exist. Heather Radke here at times says that all women have different shapes, but she dismisses the existence of people like me with a light hand. And always "white this" and "white that". I know it was specified in the beginning that the book was about the West and I'm in Eastern Europe, but after 100 times of it being said how whites steal black culture in terms of butts, well I got pissed. You are writing a book in English, English is the most widely spoken language in the world, just because China has a larger population doesn't mean they don't learn English as a second language there or in India. We are all learning English as a second language now. So when you write a book in English you should know that it can be read all over the world and USA and England is not the whole world. If you are a black person in the USA, white people were certainly racist towards you and your ancestors, but not white people around the world. There are countries in Eastern Europe that never traded slaves from Africa. There are countries that, during your slavery, were literally wiped off the map of Europe for 5 centuries by the Ottomans, so stop putting this white guilt on the whole world, as it was physically impossible for some nations. So instead of "white this" and "white that" in the book she could have specified using "white Americans this" and "white Americans that" and no one would be angry. The fact that I know that the book talks about actions in the USA does not mean that when I hear the color of my skin mentioned so many times I will not take it personally, even though I live in another country on another continent. Words matter and people should use them precisely especially when writing books.
If it wasn't clear, the purpose of the book is clear and simple. To show that white people have been racist and have been sexualizing black women's butts for centuries. White women create special fashion trends with the desire to look like them, but they don't even mention that these are cultural appropriations. Big butts in music are only talked about in rap and of course in black one , white people like this music because they want to look cool.
Perhaps the most annoying thing about this book for me was that it didn't allow me to think, to form my own opinion on the matter as a reader, and if I wasn't a white woman with a big butt in this case I would believe everything that this a book was trying to sell to me. I don't listen to rap and I don't care about rap history, the only butt song on the list I knew about was Nicki Minaj's Anaconda because they kept playing it on the radio. And yes, I knew it was a remix, I just didn't care to listen to the original. I love rock and the song I turn to for comfort is Fat Bottomed Girl by Queen. Of course not mentioned here, the rock I was told was super toxic to women and that was his entire involvement in the book. The only movie mentioned was оnly 1 with Jennifer Lopez. The entire book is about pop culture, the USA imposes its culture mostly through movies and television and only then through music. As a reader, I find this a huge oversight on the part of the writer, who found a special place in the book about Paris Hilton and the Kardashians with their sex tapes and reality shows, presenting them as a cultural phenomenon.
This is getting too long so I'm going to stop writing. In short, I did not like the book. I don't think it contained subjective scientific information. This is just a book written by a woman with complexes about her body in a time when it is fashionable to say that all white people are racist. And while I don't dispute that white racism still exists, I don't think it's aimed at black butts. Some white women just have big butts and it's not cultural appropriation of black women, it's genetics. Honestly, I wanted to hear more about black culture in regards to butts, not rappers who liked big butts and made songs about it. I wanted to see more representation of butts in art, not just music. I wanted to see an analysis of the situation in more countries, even if they are Canada, Mexico, Germany, Italy, you know what I mean more diversity, and not just the USA. I just expected more.
PP: It was very funny when the black writer asks a black dancer because white people dance this black dance. A question that seemed to come out of my literature class when we had to ask ourselves what Shaksir was trying to say. It's funny because Shakespeare is dead and we interpret his words, but there are plenty of white people and black people don't have to guess, just go out and ask a white person.
Having specified the range that this book covers, it is time to move on to the actual content. The first thing that should be clear to a person starting to read this book is that here big butt = black butt and white butt = small butt. I've never thought that way in my life maybe because I'm white woman with a big butt from Eastern Europe. My bum is so big I can't buy a set of pajama bottoms and tops that fit. From the waist up I'm a size M and down I'm an XL. My mother is like that and my grandmother was like that. My butt and all the bruises I have because I keep bumping into things aren't the result of Kardashian fashion, they're my genes. And I'm no exception true of 15 girls it will be me and one other with big butts in any group but we exist. Heather Radke here at times says that all women have different shapes, but she dismisses the existence of people like me with a light hand. And always "white this" and "white that". I know it was specified in the beginning that the book was about the West and I'm in Eastern Europe, but after 100 times of it being said how whites steal black culture in terms of butts, well I got pissed. You are writing a book in English, English is the most widely spoken language in the world, just because China has a larger population doesn't mean they don't learn English as a second language there or in India. We are all learning English as a second language now. So when you write a book in English you should know that it can be read all over the world and USA and England is not the whole world. If you are a black person in the USA, white people were certainly racist towards you and your ancestors, but not white people around the world. There are countries in Eastern Europe that never traded slaves from Africa. There are countries that, during your slavery, were literally wiped off the map of Europe for 5 centuries by the Ottomans, so stop putting this white guilt on the whole world, as it was physically impossible for some nations. So instead of "white this" and "white that" in the book she could have specified using "white Americans this" and "white Americans that" and no one would be angry. The fact that I know that the book talks about actions in the USA does not mean that when I hear the color of my skin mentioned so many times I will not take it personally, even though I live in another country on another continent. Words matter and people should use them precisely especially when writing books.
If it wasn't clear, the purpose of the book is clear and simple. To show that white people have been racist and have been sexualizing black women's butts for centuries. White women create special fashion trends with the desire to look like them, but they don't even mention that these are cultural appropriations. Big butts in music are only talked about in rap and of course in black one , white people like this music because they want to look cool.
Perhaps the most annoying thing about this book for me was that it didn't allow me to think, to form my own opinion on the matter as a reader, and if I wasn't a white woman with a big butt in this case I would believe everything that this a book was trying to sell to me. I don't listen to rap and I don't care about rap history, the only butt song on the list I knew about was Nicki Minaj's Anaconda because they kept playing it on the radio. And yes, I knew it was a remix, I just didn't care to listen to the original. I love rock and the song I turn to for comfort is Fat Bottomed Girl by Queen. Of course not mentioned here, the rock I was told was super toxic to women and that was his entire involvement in the book. The only movie mentioned was оnly 1 with Jennifer Lopez. The entire book is about pop culture, the USA imposes its culture mostly through movies and television and only then through music. As a reader, I find this a huge oversight on the part of the writer, who found a special place in the book about Paris Hilton and the Kardashians with their sex tapes and reality shows, presenting them as a cultural phenomenon.
This is getting too long so I'm going to stop writing. In short, I did not like the book. I don't think it contained subjective scientific information. This is just a book written by a woman with complexes about her body in a time when it is fashionable to say that all white people are racist. And while I don't dispute that white racism still exists, I don't think it's aimed at black butts. Some white women just have big butts and it's not cultural appropriation of black women, it's genetics. Honestly, I wanted to hear more about black culture in regards to butts, not rappers who liked big butts and made songs about it. I wanted to see more representation of butts in art, not just music. I wanted to see an analysis of the situation in more countries, even if they are Canada, Mexico, Germany, Italy, you know what I mean more diversity, and not just the USA. I just expected more.
PP: It was very funny when the black writer asks a black dancer because white people dance this black dance. A question that seemed to come out of my literature class when we had to ask ourselves what Shaksir was trying to say. It's funny because Shakespeare is dead and we interpret his words, but there are plenty of white people and black people don't have to guess, just go out and ask a white person.
July 22, 2024
Brat summer more like BUTT summer. anyway. 2.5 stars
If you come to this book expecting goofiness and puns, you might be in the wrong place. Butts is a surprisingly academic take on the history of butts: an anthropological and historical study more than anything. Heather Radke's book is formatted like a thesis, starting with anatomy and then building a social history of butts from the 1700-1800s to about 2016.
Radke's analysis is strongest when it's historical. She draws from primary sources when it's possible, and I was impressed at how many firsthand interviews with other experts she pulls in when it wasn't. I particularly loved the details when talking about historical dress, and how she ties together colonialism with beauty standards; the story of Sarah Baartman will infuriate you! She does this all while managing to keep the material engaging and fast-paced - I really can't complain.
However, it's when the book steps into more modern material that it starts to show cracks. Radke seems to struggle with an objective view of recent trends towards body image. Individual people or pieces of media are framed as the sources of changing attitudes towards butts, rather than as reflections of beliefs at the time. At one point Radke earnestly notes that Sir Mix-a-Lot's "Baby Got Back" video does not pass the Bechdel Test (??)
On the other, there's a kind of...warped?...perspective on celebrities and events that range from misguided to cruel. People didn't watch Keeping Up With the Kardashians because they found Kim's body and lifestyle "relatable," they did it because watching the drama and gossip of people much more ridiculous and wealthy than you is funny. And while people like Kim Kardashian and Paris Hilton are certainly at some fault for capitalizing off of beauty standards (as well as a host of other things which Radke covers in depth), there's an unsavory framing of their sex tape leaks - when Paris was 19 and Kim was 23 - as slyly calculated business maneuvers instead of the very real sex crimes they were.
Butts: A Backstory struggles under the weight of its subject. Though the book's need to couch statements about body image and beauty is necessary, its constant repetition creates a sense of constant anxiety. The conclusion explores the idea that Radke knows that beauty standards are usually harmful and always changing. Yet she's still found comfort and independence in the knowledge that her body can be perceived as attractive. Both realities can be true. I wish this book had allowed that contradiction to exist more frequently in its text, especially when the author's ease with historical research no longer came into play.
If you come to this book expecting goofiness and puns, you might be in the wrong place. Butts is a surprisingly academic take on the history of butts: an anthropological and historical study more than anything. Heather Radke's book is formatted like a thesis, starting with anatomy and then building a social history of butts from the 1700-1800s to about 2016.
Radke's analysis is strongest when it's historical. She draws from primary sources when it's possible, and I was impressed at how many firsthand interviews with other experts she pulls in when it wasn't. I particularly loved the details when talking about historical dress, and how she ties together colonialism with beauty standards; the story of Sarah Baartman will infuriate you! She does this all while managing to keep the material engaging and fast-paced - I really can't complain.
However, it's when the book steps into more modern material that it starts to show cracks. Radke seems to struggle with an objective view of recent trends towards body image. Individual people or pieces of media are framed as the sources of changing attitudes towards butts, rather than as reflections of beliefs at the time. At one point Radke earnestly notes that Sir Mix-a-Lot's "Baby Got Back" video does not pass the Bechdel Test (??)
On the other, there's a kind of...warped?...perspective on celebrities and events that range from misguided to cruel. People didn't watch Keeping Up With the Kardashians because they found Kim's body and lifestyle "relatable," they did it because watching the drama and gossip of people much more ridiculous and wealthy than you is funny. And while people like Kim Kardashian and Paris Hilton are certainly at some fault for capitalizing off of beauty standards (as well as a host of other things which Radke covers in depth), there's an unsavory framing of their sex tape leaks - when Paris was 19 and Kim was 23 - as slyly calculated business maneuvers instead of the very real sex crimes they were.
Butts: A Backstory struggles under the weight of its subject. Though the book's need to couch statements about body image and beauty is necessary, its constant repetition creates a sense of constant anxiety. The conclusion explores the idea that Radke knows that beauty standards are usually harmful and always changing. Yet she's still found comfort and independence in the knowledge that her body can be perceived as attractive. Both realities can be true. I wish this book had allowed that contradiction to exist more frequently in its text, especially when the author's ease with historical research no longer came into play.
February 18, 2024
Some reviewers have labeled this book "silly" or "fun" and while it was an enjoyable read, I don't consider it silly at all. As a young Hispanic girl in the US, I grew up in two cultures- the Hispanic culture in central Jersey celebrated curves and made fun of skinny girls. But white America equated curves with slovenliness. Jennifer Lopez was a savior of sorts for tormented teens with big bottoms. This book gives a bigger historical framework for some of the impactful moments of body positivity. This body positivity has certainly helped with women's quality of life, though we still have a long way to go obviously. It's not addressed in the book, but big changes are perhaps underfoot with the new weight loss drugs though we have yet to see if they're for better or worse.
February 22, 2023
This was nowhere near as funny or as interesting as the title and cover make you think.
July 18, 2023
I learned stuff I didn’t know I needed to know about the sociocultural history of butts! Wish I could’ve read stuff like this as an anthropology major instead of some of the stuff I did have to read. This is way more topical than I would’ve imagined and it reinforces the ideas that we are all carrying our ancestral, cultural, and social histories simply by existing in our bodies.
January 21, 2023
2.5/5
Before I write this review, it should be noted, that the target audience for this book were women. I was not the ideal reader for this book. My review represents my personal experience with it, and is in no way indicative of how you may feel about it.
I thought it would be an interesting read. And it was, but for only the first half of it, which consisted mostly of the early history and trends related to the butt.
The second half, I thought, was a hot mess, it consisted of early 2000s and 2010s pop culture, sometimes the author would even recite and try to explain the lyrics of "Baby's Got Back" and "Bootylicious". The second half, consisted of a lot of sub-topics (some that didn't even have any connection to butts, as far as I could tell) that seemed to vary in its contents and yet sound similar to each. The repetitive comparison of Sarah Baartman to pop culture figures like Jennifer Lopez or Miley Cyrus was difficult to read, because the author was trying to make the same point again and again. Once would have been enough. The second half, made me feel like the author was trying too hard to fill up the pages, and the result was not appealing to me.
This book is a book about butts. And like butts, it had two halves. One half was interesting. The other was disappointing.
Before I write this review, it should be noted, that the target audience for this book were women. I was not the ideal reader for this book. My review represents my personal experience with it, and is in no way indicative of how you may feel about it.
I thought it would be an interesting read. And it was, but for only the first half of it, which consisted mostly of the early history and trends related to the butt.
The second half, I thought, was a hot mess, it consisted of early 2000s and 2010s pop culture, sometimes the author would even recite and try to explain the lyrics of "Baby's Got Back" and "Bootylicious". The second half, consisted of a lot of sub-topics (some that didn't even have any connection to butts, as far as I could tell) that seemed to vary in its contents and yet sound similar to each. The repetitive comparison of Sarah Baartman to pop culture figures like Jennifer Lopez or Miley Cyrus was difficult to read, because the author was trying to make the same point again and again. Once would have been enough. The second half, made me feel like the author was trying too hard to fill up the pages, and the result was not appealing to me.
This book is a book about butts. And like butts, it had two halves. One half was interesting. The other was disappointing.
March 2, 2023
“Oh My God, Becky!” When I heard about this on #AllTheBooks, I knew I had to get my hands on it. 😅 The human butt is unique in it’s functionality and evolutionary importance. Radke covers it all, with a focus on what booties have come to signify. Super interesting, especially the modern-day issues of image, clothing sizes / fit, sexual desire, humor, cultural norms and appropriation, and, of course the dreaded Kardashians.
January 23, 2024
Everyone has a butt, and most everyone accords them more thought and meaning than they do many other parts of their body. But why do we pay them so much attention? How have they come to be so fraught with connotation?
I remember seeing this book on NetGalley ages back, but forgot that I wanted to read it until I read Travis_J_Smith's review last week. This proves I have a terrible memory, because who could forget that cover? I've been feeling like reading a micro-history recently, so it popped back up at the right time.
Radke weaves together pop culture, history, and her own experiences to tell the story of the butt and how it came to acquire such cachet in the public conscienceness. While I'd known bits and pieces of the story, it was fascinating to see it all laid out in an interconnected manner, fashion and science and race and feminism all cross-pollinating each other to produce the current state of affairs. It was strange and cool to see vague notions I'd had before brought into the light and expanded upon.
I did think focus wandered a little in the later part of the book though, as we came to modern times. By narrowing her focus to the butt in dance by the end, I thought Radke made some interesting points but missed other perspectives that contributed to the so-called Year of the Butt. I would have liked to see her touch upon a wider array of factors and therefore clarified better the current state of the butt in society.
(I wonder how many times I've said 'butt' in this review?)
I remember seeing this book on NetGalley ages back, but forgot that I wanted to read it until I read Travis_J_Smith's review last week. This proves I have a terrible memory, because who could forget that cover? I've been feeling like reading a micro-history recently, so it popped back up at the right time.
Radke weaves together pop culture, history, and her own experiences to tell the story of the butt and how it came to acquire such cachet in the public conscienceness. While I'd known bits and pieces of the story, it was fascinating to see it all laid out in an interconnected manner, fashion and science and race and feminism all cross-pollinating each other to produce the current state of affairs. It was strange and cool to see vague notions I'd had before brought into the light and expanded upon.
I did think focus wandered a little in the later part of the book though, as we came to modern times. By narrowing her focus to the butt in dance by the end, I thought Radke made some interesting points but missed other perspectives that contributed to the so-called Year of the Butt. I would have liked to see her touch upon a wider array of factors and therefore clarified better the current state of the butt in society.
(I wonder how many times I've said 'butt' in this review?)
December 23, 2022
I don't often read and love non-fiction, but this one kind of raised the bar impossibly high. As the author states in the conclusion, this book could have been about any body part to illustrate how images and narratives about non-cis-white male bodies have been used and abused and discarded throughout history to suit any number of unjust, heteropatriarchal institutions. But it's fascinating how much specific historical scholarship about this one body part can be the connective tissue for all so many seemingly disparate arenas of history. The story of the butt and how it's been fetishized and reviled and been used as a tool for perpetuating cultural narratives is at the intersection of the history of colonialism and sexism and racism and the history of eugenics and fashion and pop culture.
Ngl, I definitely picked this up because of the stellar title, because yes, I'm that juvenile nerd. But I'm also somewhat of a functioning adult and expected it to be more serious and academic than the cover implies. And to my relief it was not dry and humorless, but unbelievably engaging and full of studied outrage and accountability. Highly recommend, very quick read.
Ngl, I definitely picked this up because of the stellar title, because yes, I'm that juvenile nerd. But I'm also somewhat of a functioning adult and expected it to be more serious and academic than the cover implies. And to my relief it was not dry and humorless, but unbelievably engaging and full of studied outrage and accountability. Highly recommend, very quick read.
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