Thank you to Net Galley and the publisher for the ARC. What a life! This was a crazy ride of living through someone else's trauma and experiences with honesty, vulnerability and humor that was quite wonderful and touching. I also recommending seeing one of his book talks as he is a vibrant character filled with so much life and love.

This memoir was excellent. I have followed the author in his work already and really liked getting these windows into his life. His perspective is really good and thoughtful.

I've followed Isaac's literary career since his time with The Rumpus (particularly the Book Club's early years), and although I felt I knew quite a bit about him I was pleasantly surprised by his memoir. I could imagine hearing these stories from him across the table over some steins of beer.

A stirring and human debut memoir, from a truly fantastic human being. Fitzgerald doesn't hide anything, he's as honest and effusive in print as he is in person, and how lucky for us!

I don't have any idea what to say about this: it's engaging, chaotic, and full of complicated themes and feelings.

Wow. I absolutely loved this book. Every word in this memoir is meaningful. It's refreshing to read a memoir where the author is this open and accessible throughout. Each chapter is a series of connected stories across time. The format is unfamiliar, but it felt like you're reading stories being told at a dinner party without the questions between the segments. He's a fantastic storyteller.

What a fun memoir!! Unlike anything I've read before. I've always been a fan of Isaac Fitzgerald and I love that his kindness and humor shines through the honesty and emotion she puts into this memoir. He is an incredible talent and I loved living in the messy world of his mind for a few hundred pages.

A memoir in essays that starts with Fitzgerald’s childhood in Massachusetts through his days in San Francisco and back to the East Coast. The book is full of the little stories and adventures that create a life.
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I found Fitzgerald’s writing style to be super engaging. I listened on audio and felt like I was listening to an earnest new friend I met at a bar share the legends of their life, in a way to impress and commiserate. His enthusiasm carried the collection.
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I know many folks enjoyed DIRTBAG, MASSACHUSETTS because of the ways Fitzgerald interrogates masculinity. I was less taken by this. I was neutral. I’m not sure I needed a curated collection on tenderness that lacked a real reckoning with race and privilege and what it means to fail. Yes, he acknowledges these things, but I didn’t feel like he brought anything new to the table for me. The collection felt maybe a little too on the nose, with Fitzgerald saying all the right things because that’s what good sensitive white boys who pay attention do.

3.5 stars, rounded upward.

I enjoy a good memoir, and so I was all in when I saw this singular work; my thanks go to Bloomsbury and Net Galley for the review copy. It’s by “the beloved founding editor of Buzzfeed Books,” but somehow, I either missed that part or forgot about it, so I read it and assessed it as if he were just some random guy, and ultimately, that’s probably the fairest way to do so anyway. This book is for sale now.

Fitzgerald has seen and done just about everything. His family life growing up is dreadful, and he is delighted to bail out of the screaming, wretched mess called home in order to attend boarding school. He is the scholarship kid, but he benefits plenty from the largesse of his classmates. Post education, he takes himself to San Francisco, with an entire continent stretching between himself and his family. Upon arrival, he continues his favorite pastime, drinking, which he began doing with his older brother when he was just twelve. His parents didn’t do it, so he figured it might be a good choice.

The promotional blurb says that this is the story of the author’s “search for a more expansive vision of masculinity.” Perhaps this is why I find it so hard to relate to. There are moments, though. A huge chunk of the first half in particular describes his affinity for bars, which he identifies as his safe spaces. My notes from the start of this segment say “Oh boy, I always wanted to read yet another alcoholic memoir.” Soon afterward, though, he says, as if reading my mind, that if we expect him to discuss the way he quit drinking, we’ll be in for a long wait, because he still drinks, though not nearly as much. That much was good for a chuckle. Then there’s another segment about his period with the porn industry. I confess I straight-up skimmed some of that, although again, there’s a moment, when he talks about the importance of consent, and how the porn industry, in his experience, is more careful and respectful of this boundary than anyone else he’s encountered.

The book is billed as being humorous, but this is a massive overstatement. Most of the content is dead serious. But then again—yes, you guessed it. There are moments.

What takes me by surprise, and happily so, is the message that he’s spent the whole book building toward, and I never see it coming until we’re there. I highlighted it in case I wanted to use it as a quote here, but that would be an epic spoiler. You didn’t know that memoirs can have spoilers? Oh yes. They can. And when I see this one, my disgruntlement fades and I am once again a perfectly gruntled reader and reviewer.

One aspect that I appreciate, and particularly appreciated during the rougher patches, is that the brief essays that, strung together, make up the memoir, make very short chapters, and they’re clearly marked. This is a terrific bedtime book, because I am able to find a reasonable stopping place when I need to turn out the light (or, as it happens, turn off my Kindle.)

If you’ve read this review and are interested, then I recommend it to you. I anticipate that men will enjoy it more than women.

There's a reason this memoir went right to the top of the NYT bestsellers list! Wonderfully written and a compelling story.

In a series of essay-like vignettes, Isaac Fitzgerald narrows in on episodes of his life, exploring themes of poverty, shame, isolation, rejection, searching, family and found family, violence, faith, physicality, sexuality, connection, identity, and other weighty topics that have impacted him in his life. Raised by parents who had him out of an affair they had from both of their marriages, he charts the wreckage that followed his birth. It's not a sentimental story and there aren't any easy answers or happy endings here, though there is growth.

The book reads very quickly, and I finished it in a sitting as the short sections keep you engaged. I did feel that the beginning was very strong, and the ending section brought out more of the earlier elements just hinted at. Some of the incidents in the middle didn't feel as memorable. But I would be interested in seeing what else he does in the future.

Yipe! Beware of hype!

Damn blurb-land! Oh, sure, the blurb is just overflowing with compliments; “best of” all over the place. (And the accolades are even in boldface, just to make sure you see them all bright, that you see how important they are.) Throw in a few gushy, trusty reviews, and this drooling, itchy book addict didn’t stand a chance of saying No to the Book!

I’m not saying this memoir is bad—not at all. I’m just saying it’s Mediocre-ville. I honestly don’t get the hype. This is basically a plain memoir about a guy who drinks too much and whose greatest joy is a bar in California. Most of the first half of the book is about his bar worship (he even got to work there after many years as a customer, which was a huge delight to him). His ode to a bar got old, and I was sick of hanging around in that dive.

This is a memoir, so I’m not going to complain about what the writer does with his life. My complaints have to do with what he chose to emphasize (the bar) and whether he’s a good storyteller (he passes that test with flying colors). Besides the bar, the first half of the book is about incidents with his Catholic church; these were interesting but didn’t affect me. I think anyone who was raised Catholic would relate to and appreciate those chapters more than I did. I did find it interesting that he thought that the church beat politeness into him. I’ve heard friends say the same thing.

The second half of the book was way more interesting. He got out of the bar and into some fascinating experiences. Fitzgerald is a great writer, so the scenes he describes are vivid and affecting. Two of his adventures are especially bizarro, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the page when he was describing them. He spent time in Chiang Mai, Thailand. I had visited that city for a couple of weeks, so it was fun to hear about his life there.

Scattered throughout the book are self-reflections. I liked those, but there weren’t enough. Also, it was strange that I didn’t learn until late in the book that he didn’t like himself. Somehow that fact didn’t manage to come through at first. I guess I didn’t do a good job of reading between the lines. I had felt he was bragging about his screw-ups, when it turns out he was complaining about them and was no doubt embarrassed.

Also, he chose to tell about his sad, messed-up childhood at the end of the book instead of at the beginning, which I found an odd decision. I think I would have felt more sympathetic if I had known from the start what made him who he is today, but that’s just my preference.

At the very end, he gets a little lecture-y, talking about politics. Although I share his political views, I don’t think they belong in a memoir.

Oh, and I forgot to mention: I loved the Cross Your Fingers book cover (and the same Cross Your Fingers drawing appears at the start of each chapter, which was cool), and the title is really strange and enticing.

Overall—balancing the boring with the interesting—an okay read. I just wish the book hadn’t been hyped so much, so my expectations wouldn’t have been so high.

Thanks to NetGalley for the advance copy.

Thank you, NetGalley, for this book!

I have known Isaac Fitzgerald for over a decade. I was a founding member of The Rumpus Book Club for several years. Isaac was the co-owner, managing editor, and moderator of our club’s message boards. He was like the fun uncle who had to get on to us every now and then to remind us to move our very off-topic conversations to our community threads rather than the book discussion threads. Through that book club, I made some excellent friends (hi, guys) who have kept in touch, and we read some books every now and then that are meaningful to our group: works by Adam Levin, Camille Bordas, and some upcoming ones by Elissa Bassist and Yuri Zalkow.

Although I got this book from NetGalley ages ago, I waited to read it until my friends could read, also. But, my mistake, I thought it was coming out this week, so I’m a week ahead. No matter. We will all get caught up soon enough. To read something by someone I’ve known for quite some time, although don’t really know at all, was a really interesting experience. I’ve heard Isaac’s voice a dozen times from his Today Show book suggestion segments. Side note: he always recommends excellent books. So, I could hear him coming through my kindle.

There are two types of memoirs. First: My life is so hard (it’s not) and I really need people to understand me (feel sorry for me) and my life of privilege really doesn’t matter (it does). Second: My life was hard (it was), but I take responsibility for my actions and admit, in the grand scheme of things, that I still had it pretty good compared to a lot of other people (because I am white). This book falls into the second category.

Isaac is an excellent writer, but he’s also very honest. This book pulls back the curtain on a lot of dark events of his life. Between having a trauma-filled childhood, never feeling comfortable in his skin, constantly searching for meaning and purpose, and wanting to do well in the world, Isaac lets the reader see what troubles him most. I loved this book. That’s odd to say because Isaac’s life was difficult, so I don’t want it to seem like I’m glad of that because it made for a good story. But I found Issac’s honesty and subsequent healing from all his trauma hopeful for his future. He seems to be in a much better place, which is what we all want for ourselves, no matter what our pasts reveal.

An eye-opening memoir that starts with Fitzgerald's troubled childhood. As he gets older his childhood shapes the choices that he makes. Filled with wild adventure stories and lots of poor choices, this memoir is reminiscent of Jack Gantos' "A Hole in My Life" but where Gantos' book is appropriate for mature high school students, this memoir is solidly adult.

Isaac Fitzgerald's essays are brutally honest and compelling. I applaud him for his honesty and candor. This book was just not my "cup of tea" and was drawn to it based on the accolades from others -- some described it as "rollicking and sad" but I did not find humor in it, only incredible sadness.

Thank you to Netgalley and Bloomsbury USA for an ARC in exchange for my honest review.

A raw intimate memoir in the form of essays.The-author shares his life the happy the sad so much emotion on each page.I was so caught up in his life story I didn’t want the book to end.Looking forward to more life stories from him,#netgalley#bloomsburybooks.

Wonderfully open and funny, Fitzgerald’s essays about his life, examining the things that make him who he is, are delightful. Fascinating and introspective. The connections Fitzgerald draws between different events in his life, the way he uses narrative to play with expectations and share lessons - excellent.

Amidst the grittiness and sharp wit, Fitzgerald’s memoir is vulnerable. Told through twelve essays covering different topics, from the band The Hold Steady to growing up Catholic, the approach works. Throughout the volume, Fitzgerald’s search for self and grappling with life’s pain is a common and meaningful thread.

He is often funny. In his opening line, Fitzgerald quips “My parents were married when they had me, just to different people.” Some of the best humor has a dark underbelly, and here he excels.

Yet, the essays are also deeply relatable because Fitzgerald highlights basic human struggles, from feeling self-conscious about appearance to expressing anger about one thing, which is often about so much more than one thing. For example, he describes hitting a former classmate with his math book after being called “tubby.” Reflecting on the incident, he acknowledges his sensitivity about being called fat, but it was a trigger for more anger simmering under the surface, stemming from chaos and deficiencies at his home in Massachusetts.

Indeed, underneath his outward anger – whether throwing punches in his grade school Fight Club knockoff or hurling a book - lay the hurt of growing up with a mother whose sadness poured out of her. There was an absent, furious, and sometimes alcoholic father who continued to be unfaithful after marrying his mother. There were stern grandparents, disapproving of their daughter’s choices, and by association, Fitzgerald. In this emotional chaos, he tries to ground himself, but struggles to be at peace, especially with the body he was given.

While his road began in Massachusetts, where he was born, he seems to be in a constant search for home, which may not be Massachusetts. He finds a sense of belonging in a bar called Zeitgeist in San Francisco, where he spent hours either working or drinking or both. Fitzgerald hints that his love affair with drinking may be an escape valve from his pain, but does not fully delve into that landmine. Instead, he tries out new things, new looks, new jobs. He cycles through different haircuts. He gets tattoos. He works in the porn industry. He becomes a bouncer. He volunteers to help displaced persons in Burma. As he sheds a job or old haircut, Fitzgerald tries to become who he truly is, which, like many of us, is often a struggle that lasts years, if not a lifetime.

Fitzgerald also demonstrates a refreshing level of introspection and humility. Reflecting back on a book that did not age well, but he once treasured and even took hundreds of miles from the East Coast to the West Coast when younger, he admits the material is now offensive. He wonders how he ever liked the book, but he understands that he has grown. And he acknowledges that we must always continue to grow, or else we get stuck in an unhealthy stagnation.

Through openness and good writing, Fitzgerald evokes what being human feels like. Through the fun times, the hard times, and all the times in between. As Anne Lamott wisely stated, “Your anger and damage and grief are the way to the truth.” When you go into “those rooms and closets and woods and abysses that we were told not go into . . . just breathing and finally taking it in – then we will be able to speak in our own voice and to stay in the present moment. And that moment is home.”

Fitzgerald embraces these elements of great memoir, yet there are other rooms and closets and woods and abysses, ones that build upon the essays in this volume. They are just waiting to be told.

Reviewed from a copy made available from NetGalley.

In one of the later essays in this memoir-in-essays, Isaac Fitzgerald describes the layers that exist between him and others: how he might entertain you with a cheeky, catchy opening salvo about his life story; how as he gets to know you--or conversely, if he knows he'll never see you again--he might let you glimpse some of the darker aspects of his childhood; how as a member of one of his chosen communities, he might sob while sharing the darkest memories.

I'm not sure where the intended audience fits in to this formula--perhaps somewhere between his entertaining façade and honest revelations born of never seeing us again. For sure, this is an engaging collection. You can imagine why he fits in so well in so many constructed communities, from porn content producers, to biker bar staff and patrons, to evangelical relief workers. Fitzgerald knows how to tell a story, and when he does (e.g., describing how he came to smuggle medical aid across the Thai-Burmese border), he is captivating. And while we get glimpses of the darkness early on, he waits to share some of the more wrenching details until the final essay.

Yet this collection only goes so far in its current structure. Fitzgerald does offer some nuanced insights about his experiences and is honest about where he is a work in progress. In that way, the somewhat chaotic organization of this collection makes sense, because he still appears to be working out all the threads. Sometimes, though, he does not acknowledge how content from an earlier essay intersects with stories from a later section. For instance, how does someone who shies away from nudity or toplessness because of body dysmorphia issues become someone featured in internet porn? I would have like to hear his reflections on how these stories complicate each other. I spent a long time trying to piece together timelines to understand how themes from each of these essays overlapped with one another and the interesting intersections that arose when his stories connected.

And maybe it's okay that those answers aren't forthcoming here, that his essays meander before looping back on themselves or resolving in later sections--isn't that how life often is?

That said, this book is a powerful reflection on the communities we choose and the people we chose to leave, the reproductive nature of violence, and the things we embrace to alleviate pain and plug holes within ourselves. You will enjoy spending time with Isaac Fitzgerald and only wish you had been invited further behind his walls.

3.5/5

Dirtbag, Massachusetts
by Isaac Fitzgerald
Pub Date: July 16, 2022
Bloomsbury
Thanks to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for the ARC of this book.
It is the first memoir, written by a straight white man, in a long time. This book is just what a memoir should be.
Fitzgerald's memoir-in-essays begins with a childhood that moves at breakneck speed from safety to violence, recounting an extraordinary pilgrimage through trauma to self-understanding and, ultimately, acceptance. From growing up in a Boston homeless shelter to bartending in San Francisco, from smuggling medical supplies into Burma to his lifelong struggle to make peace with his body, Fitzgerald strives to take control of his own story: one that aims to put aside anger, isolation, and entitlement to embrace the idea that one can be generous to oneself by being generous to others.
I highly recommend it.
4 stars