This collection of essays by Maris Kreizman will resonate with a lot of people of a certain age who grew up and found that the world doesn't work the way they were led to believe.

this collection of essays was very good and while i'm a few years older than the author, many of the stories and moments in time that impacted her were resonating with me too

I Want to Burn This Place Down is a well-written collection of essays covering a variety of topics, mostly relating to politics and the ways in which we are being let down by politicians and the political system. The essays cover issues like health insurance and chronic illness, the myth of meritocracy, feminism, copaganda, climate change, and the failures of neoliberalism. The essays are not super long, so it never goes into too much depth on any of these issues, but they are talked about. I think that Kreizman is a good writer and a clever one. This especially comes through when she's writing about her personal experiences, particularly her struggles with type 1 diabetes. I think the issue that I had with these essays is that there's a disconnect between the personal and the big picture political stuff. I understand how the two things are related to each other, but the gap isn't really bridged and it feels like there isn't much of a point being made. This also might be a generational thing, since Kreizman is a Xillennial, but a lot of these realizations that were made in these essays felt obvious and surface-level to me. As other reviewers have mentioned, the anger of the title also doesn't really match with the content of the essays either. Rather than actually burning down the establishment or having some sort of call to action, it feels like we're just recognizing the failures of the system and being frustrated by them, which also is coming from a place of extreme privilege. Kreizman does recognize her privilege in these essays, but I think I would have liked it if they had dug a bit deeper and done a bit more, or gone the other direction and focused much, much more on the personal. I would recommend this one to fans of Kreizman's writing and centrists who are interested in learning more about sociopolitical issues.

Unfortunately, this book simply did not live up to the marketing. It lacked the energy/anger/voice that I would expect from the title and the way it was positioned. I went in expecting a series of polemics and that's not what this was, which is fine, but then don't market it to readers that way.

I Want to Burn This Place Down is a collection of personal essays that detail the disillusionment with the political landscape of the left throughout the late 20th century to the present day. While many of the essays were relatable, I almost felt they veered too personal into the author's life when I was expecting more broad experiences to tie them together. As someone who was not familiar with the author prior to reading, I kept waiting for the narrative to pull back a little and explore the context outside of just the author's experiences, with the exception of the essay of her experiences navigating diabetes in the American healtcare system. That essay was very well suited to a hyper-personal approach as she has first-hand experience with the issues there. Perhaps due to the blurb, I was expecting a different feel.

Thank you to the publisher for the opportunity to read and review this book!

This collection was, sadly, not for me.

Perhaps it is because I was not familiar with Kreizman prior to this book, but I felt there was a distinct lack of establishing credibility in the first part of the collection. I don't know what qualified this author to make political commentary - what her background, experience, expertise, or level of previous political engagement was. I found the pieces themselves to be quite self-indulgent and this collection would be better categorized as a memoir, rather than a commentary on the current state of American politics. The theses of the essays were never clear, and the connective tissue between narrative leaps was missing entirely.

I felt the essays lacked a nuanced perspective that would have grounded the political criticism in more than the white, elder millennial leftist lens. I think that's who this book is for: white, elder millennial leftists. Though I would technically fit the target demographic, I didn't find myself invested. There is nothing new or revolutionary said here that hasn't already been said a thousand times before by a thousand other liberal white ladies. The essays attempt to reckon with privilege, but it comes across trite. I'm sure plenty of readers will feel very seen and validated by these essays; I, unfortunately, was not one of them.

The essays are also littered with countless hyper-contemporary references that immediately date them. These essays would be great in a blog/Substack format, or as opinion pieces for larger publications, but on their own I didn't feel this was a worthwhile read, nor something I would want to invest in.

If you want an essay collection that will enrage you in a lot of ways but also make you feel just a little more heard and like there's more people in your corner, pick this up. America is a frustrating cesspool, and this picks apart just some of those reasons through the voice of a really enjoyable writer.

Back in the day when blogs becoming books was a thing, Slaughterhouse 90210 was the one I loved most of all (I did, of course buy that book). I've been following its author, Maris Kreizman, ever since. She's a big presence on the bookish internet and I take her recommendations seriously, even if her tastes tend to run weirder than mine. I have a paid subscription to her newsletter, I follow her on Bluesky. Which is all to say that I was very excited when she announced her essay collection and was thrilled to read this book. I wish my sky-high expectations had been matched. Maris reflects on her experience of living with diabetes, on her politics taking a leftward tack as she ages, and on the pop culture that taught her lessons about the world and how it works, for better and worse (mostly worse). But there's an incisiveness that's missing here, a seeming unwillingness to really go for the uncomfortable that could have taken well-written, smart pieces and taken them to the next level. She writes one essay about the ways in which pop culture teaches us that police are good guys, cool and smart and well-dressed and inherently heroic, cutting her reflections on growing up with these images with information about their inherent falsity, her own awakening to this falsity gradual because of the privilege her whiteness confers upon her. Near the end, she tells us that her older twin brothers have both become police officers themselves, that while she has become more liberal, they have become more conservative, that she's hesitant to probe the depth of their growing political differences for fear of permanent rupture. A more interesting version would have seen her having a frank conversation with her brothers about their experiences, about any of their own hesitations about their roles, about how they feel about her beliefs. Do I understand why she didn't write that essay? Of course! Families are complicated, risking permanent ill will with your siblings is very reasonable to consider as a price too high to pay to make an essay go from solid to great. But it's a place where I felt, as a reader, that something bigger and more powerful was lurking underneath the surface in a frustrating way. The piece about rejecting both the grind of the corporate climb and the grind of motherhood, of choosing neither rather than falling into the trap (here, I speak from experience) of trying to manage both, also feels curiously unfinished. She winds up concluding that she's happiest living neither for work nor for a child, which is...fine? Good for her, truly! But other than expressing a vague feeling of guilt for having the chance to really devote herself to creative endeavor and mostly not taking it, having learned that pushing herself as hard as she did in her youth wasn't healthy mentally or physically, I didn't understand what she was going for here. I wanted something more from it. It's not a bad book, she is clever and funny and a talented writer. But I was hoping for something more revelatory and that's not what she wrote.

Equal parts infuriating and informative. I've followed Kreizman since her Tumblr days, and if this world were just she'd be an editor at the major publishers, deciding which works made it to store shelves. She deserves better from this country and, as she illustrates, we all do.

I know Maris Kreizman mostly from her writing on books and culture, so this took much more of a memoir turn than I’m used to. That being said, though, I thought these essays had a lot of good insight and reflections on the anger that comes with being a woman and person with empathy in our current times. That being said, I almost wanted a bit more anger at times. I was all in when she led with how she’s gotten increasingly liberal as she aged and saw more injustice, but I ultimately wanted her to dive deeper into the rage of it all. I loved what was there and think it’s a strong essay collection overall that touches on so many important issues, but just wanted a bit more depth at times.

In a word: galvanizing. Being that Maris Kreizman and I are roughly the same age, her writing resonates with me at a deeper frequency than your average memoirist's work. I saw so much of myself in her words, especially the through-line of looking back at the things once loved or revered and feeling disillusioned by them now. A truly excellent collection, and I can't wait to read more from Ms. Kreizman.

Maris Kreizman is one of my favorite writers (especially writing on books!) and this essay collection really shows off her strengths! So much of her story feels like my own - from the political shifts to chronic illness to being a recovering ambition monster - but she manages to not just convey those stories but also to catapult you to time and place with such specific details. I wish the collection was as angry as the title suggests and that there was maybe one final essay to tie it all together but overall a fantastic collection!

It was fine, I learned a few things, and the author spoke their part and viewpoint. It just didn't make me that excited to read it.

I enjoy reading essays or memoirs from individuals who are similar in age to me so that I can see how their perspectives are similar or different than mine. I hadn't read Maris Kreizman before, but the description of the book drew me in. While I cannot connect with living a life in the arts, I can connect with the disillusionment she encountered as she grew older and questioned previously held beliefs.

I Want to Burn this Place Down was mostly an enjoyable read. It's a series of essays on the author's life, particularly how she has been impacted by type 1 diabetes. Growing up, Maris Kreizman believed that if she worked hard, she would live the American dream - a stable income with a nice house, good healthcare, and a promising retirement fund. Now in her forties, she knows the American dream is truly just a dream for many. While I enjoyed her perspective, I think the book would be more impactful if it included a variety of American voices and perspectives, all centered on the same idea that this place needs a major overhaul so that it is truly beneficial to all.

Maris Kreizman's essay collection I Want to Burn This Place Down was really appealing to me because I have long followed her online and appreciate her commentary on books and publishing, and because the (excellent, relatable) title and subject matter of this book are hitting at an appropriate moment. I appreciated the subjects she explores in the book - including health insurance and chronic conditions (diabetes, specifically), salaries and unions, copaganda, and the myth of meritocracy - under the umbrella of examining the American left and how American systems have failed us. Kreizman's writing is smart as well as very readable and approachable, her voice clear and blunt, though I don't think it lives up to the rage promised by the title and premise. However, my main issue was her writing style. Kreizman jumps around a lot rather than digging deeper into a moment or topic; she has some great topics and questions at hand here, with personal ties to dive into, but often these were vignettes compiled together, sometimes even just a page per section. Her use of first person present tense (such as the recurring style of "It's [year] and I'm X") was off-putting for this type of book and bothered me, perhaps because it added to the surface-level feeling and to a reliance on voice and snappiness rather than reflection and depth.

I don't know if this book could have come out at a better time. Maris Kreizman explores her politics and how they have grown and changed in time. In today's political climate, it's especially hard to deal with when families fall down the blind Fox News whole, and Kreizman wrestles with this exact issue, as she does with the pushback on police. As someone with family in all law enforcement forms, I understand completely.

This is a quick read of intelligent essays from a wonderful writer.. I hope it helps generations to come.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for the opportunity to read and review this book.

I love Maris Kreizman's newsletter and I reblogged Slaughterhouse 90210 <i>far</i> too often in my Tumblr days so I was excited to read this. The essays are concise, with the right amount of detail and information. I often find essay collections have at least one that needs some editing, not with this one. I especially loved her writing about her childhood, her experiences as a diabetic, and her concern over the comfort of her elderly pet (I've been there). I would've liked a little more cohesion with the book overall but still recommend this collection.

This essay collection was very appealing to me namely because of the title because hello, that is my current mood. I had a terrible week at work, which made everything worse and I really just wanted to escape my real life rage to rage about things that are bigger than me. This essay collection apparently is about how Kreizman went from being a "good Democrat" to being actual left leaning or something like that. Ultimately, I made it 42% through this one before I had to call it a day. This book is very voice-y and maybe that will work for you. For me, I couldn't ever find my footing. Kreizman jumps all over the place time wise, almost like vignettes, that are loosely tied together for each essay. I wanted this to feel more organized and grounded, more like Hood Feminism than just personal experiences tied together with the smallest of connections. That said, I think it will work much better for those of you who do not need things to be as structured as I sometimes do. So happy reading if you think it's for you!

Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for the ARC of this title.

I've been a huge fan of Maris' coverage of books for Vulture, LitHub, and the myriad other venues she's freelanced for, and this was such a good collection of essays expanding beyond the world of books and into the world at large. I tore through this over the course of a day.