Inspired to read this by a recent review in the Atlantic. Coincidentally, it turned out that I had just read an excerpt from his ex-wife's memoir (in a foodie anthology) and thus had insight on his own lifestyle relative to what he was describing and mocking. Overall, it was actually a fun book. And I really don't think it was intended to be at all serious. He made regular reference to The Preppie Handbook, which had recently made a killing (I feel so old for remembering it, too) and he seemed to mainly be trying to ride its economic coattails. He mocked his own lifestyle (without admitting it was his own) just as much as the rest. And it was interesting to see exactly what got mocked. It wasn't basic cruel snobbery. The very rich were treated much more cruelly than the very poor. Very much in the Paris Hilton model, the lot of them. He was remarkably sympathetic to the poor (proles), pointing out their understandable frustrations (like demeaning jobs) as an explanation of some of their tackier tendencies. And his biggest criticism of the middle class was that they are too hung up on what other people think of them, and that is really not an insult. Or, at the very least, it's very constructive criticism. (Although I'm still smarting at the repeated digs about New Yorker readers of course.) A lot of what he was describing was aspirational marketing, which consumers are more conscious of today than they were back then. Also, he made some perfectly valid (even today) observations about the major shortcomings of U.S. higher education. Overall, I don't feel compelled to try to move from middle class to 'X,' although that was his actual goal with the book. (Being that generation is enough. Confusing!) Really, they're their own kind of shallow. And grimy! Finally, his praise at the end for the bohemian lifestyle, with such attention paid to their free love practices when he hadn't addressed relationships at any point prior, makes a lot more sense when you know why his marriage crashed and burned. ( )

(Alistair) Anyway, Class. I confess that my original reason for buying this book was an essentially morbid curiosity about the topic. Coming from such a marvellously class-ridden society as England, after all, leaves one reasonably certain that there must, surely, be some sort of class system, even if it's not the one one's used to. And while the traditional slur that American class is determined solely by money may be satisfying for sniffy Guardianistas and other European hesperophobes, it doesn't take much exposure to figure out that it just ain't so.

Fussell's book (which is also, I would add, agreeably curmudgeonly about the whole thing for readers such as I) lays bare the cispondian designators of class rather well, I think, or at least upon examination they correspond reasonably well to things I have noted, or could note. (Some reviewers claim that the book, published in 1983, has dated since publication; this may be the cause of those anomalies I observed.) As ever, the designators vary, but the underlying characteristics of the classes are really fairly similar.

A very good read for those interested in the topic, although as one might expect, the chapter concerning "prole drift", or the increasing drift of culture towards the proletarian, is somewhat depressing in the light of observable shift since 1983 and reasonable projection into the future. I might also add that he seems to lionize "Category X", a sort of sideways out-class:

"A useful exercise is to ask of Annis's poem, what class is the speaker in it? Not a prole, because his grammar is unexceptionable. Not middle-class either, because he notices that something's deeply wrong with the public architecture of Aberdarcy and has no fear of starting controversy by criticizing it. And he can't be upper class because he's speaking in verse, which requires talent, learning, and effort."

...a little bit much for my taste, for all I might, from this account, well be a member of it.

(The quick test in the back of the book to let you determine your perceived class by scoring your living room is kind of fun, too.)

( http://weblog.siliconcerebrate.com/ce... ) ( )

This is kind of dated now but Fussell has written the best book I have ever found on the taboo topic of class in the Unites States of America. Well worth searching in used bookstores and library stacks to find if you haven't read it. ( )

Class: a guide through the America Status System was a complete change in direction from my last few books, which made for a refreshing change of pace. Fussell is just as delightfully cranky as he was in BAD: the Dumbing of America, which I reviewed a few entries back. He is also, unfortunately, just as dated. In Class, he delineates, and then skewers, the various methods that Americans have of broadcasting social class, sparing no group his scorn. Many of his observations are as true today as when he wrote the book (1982), but others are sadly out of touch. His comments on home ownership (though by using that term I have no doubt lowered my own class in his venerable eyes), for example, seem strangely antiquated, given the current market. Other comments, such as those on the quality of food found in restaurants, also seem out of touch, given the changes seen in dining out in the last twenty-odd years. However, it was still fun to read, and I've been enjoying trying to identify my own class, as well as the classes of my friends and family, at least according to his scheme. One warning: don't read this if you are easily offended by pretense/pomposity. Fussell's full of both, and my boyfriend would become enraged whenever I read something out of here to him. Oops. ( )

This is well written, well organized and well-argued. Fussell claims that class exists in America and exposes it in its workings. To anyone who doubted or needed convincing, this book may go a long way toward illuminating the existing class structure. ( )