Emily Mester

I liked the first half better than the last. The final chapter was a real let-down. Reminded me a teeny bit of Klosterman's Sex Drug's and Cocoa Puffs minus the music and add in Ulta and Taco Bell instead. But whereas Klosterman reps pop culture ideas and experiences, Mester is like a kitten that only wants to play with the packaging. I was hopeful for this book but ultimately it disappointed in the end. The author's life comes off as sort of empty and joyless and the end doesn't signify a show more recognition of that or a desire for anything different which just felt...sad. ON to a bigger issue: I thought this book was going to be essays about consumption as it relates to everyday people. Had I realized it was a memoir about someone who comes from a wealthy family of hoarders I would not have purchased it at all. Even the blurb on the back implies it will be about how "we" buy, eat , amass, etc...not specifically how her family does. Nor is the book "a nuanced examination of diet culture"--it is rather her personal experience as a participant in diet culture. This book should be retitled from [American Bulk: Essays on Excess] to [American Bulk: A Memoir of Excess] and the back cover blurb rewritten. The writing style is likable (until the cringy last couple pages) so I'll pick up something she writes in the future and hope the content is a better fit for me. show less

I loved this collection of essays, but it’s hard to define a theme. In general I’d say it’s about stuff and how it permeates our lives, but then there is also a ton of generational trauma in the author’s stories as well.

4.5 stars, I really enjoyed this essay collection. The topics are all close to home in one way or the other, and the author being from the Midwest and writing from that vantage made this all the more relatable. I enjoyed the writing style, and the way the essays clearly lay out the topic without moralizing or neatly summarizing.