Thick: And Other Essays

Finally got around to reading Tressie McMillan Cottom, and my brain is still buzzing from the sheer intellectual force of these essays. She connects disparate threads of sociology and pop culture with a precision that makes you feel like you’re finally seeing the world in high definition. I specifically loved her ability to write 'the turn'—that moment in an essay where the argument shifts into something much deeper and more systemic. While the prose is dense and requires your full attention, it rewards the effort with profound insights into black womanhood and capitalist logic. It isn't just a book; it’s a masterclass in cultural criticism.

Wow, 'Dying to be Competent' is an essay that will stay with me for the rest of my life. The way Cottom weaves her personal tragedy with a searing indictment of how medical systems fail black women is nothing short of devastating. To be fair, some of the more academic chapters took me a minute to parse because the language is so deliberate and thick with theory. However, the emotional weight and the clarity of her logic regarding beauty and worth are undeniable. She doesn't cater to a white audience or try to make her truths more palatable, which is exactly why this collection feels so vital and urgent right now.

After hearing so much buzz about this being a National Book Award finalist, I had high expectations, and Cottom absolutely delivered. She has this incredible way of deconstructing the neoliberal idea of beauty, forcing the reader to look at who actually profits from these standards rather than just 'feeling pretty.' It’s a dense read—I actually had to go back and reread several paragraphs to make sure I caught every nuance—but the wit keeps it from feeling like a dry textbook. Fans of Brittney Cooper or Roxane Gay will find a lot to love here. It’s easily one of the most challenging and rewarding books I’ve picked up this year.

Ever wonder why certain voices are elevated in prestige publications while others are sidelined? Cottom’s final essay rants—in the best way possible—about the gatekeeping in media and the absurdity of who we consider 'experts.' I found her take on Thomas Friedman and his taxi driver anecdotes to be particularly hilarious and spot-on. While I didn't agree with every single conclusion she drew, her perspective is so grounded in sociological expertise that you have to respect the hustle. Some parts are a bit repetitive, and the density can be overwhelming, but the overall impact of the collection is powerful.

Tressie McMillan Cottom is a force of nature. This book is thick with intelligence, wit, and a refreshing lack of apologies for existing as a black woman in a society that tries to shrink her. I loved how she tackled the election of Trump and the concept of 'whiteness' as a form of capital. Her voice is so distinct and authoritative that you can almost hear her speaking the words off the page. It’s not an easy read, and you shouldn’t expect it to be, but it is deeply rewarding if you’re willing to sit with the discomfort her analysis often provides. Highly recommended for anyone who wants a serious intellectual challenge.

Picked this up on a whim and ended up finishing it in two sittings because I couldn't stop thinking about her arguments. McMillan Cottom has this way of exposing the 'hidden' rules of society that make you question everything you thought you knew about meritocracy and agency. The way she handles the topic of black women's worth in a capitalist society is both analytical and deeply personal. It’s a provocative read that might rub some people the wrong way, but that’s exactly what good social criticism is supposed to do. She doesn't just write essays; she constructs arguments that demand a response from the reader.

The chapter on Miley Cyrus and the Grammys was a total eye-opener for me. Cottom uses pop culture as a Trojan horse to discuss much larger, more systemic issues regarding the vulnerability of black girls and the construction of whiteness. I’ll admit that her writing style is unapologetically academic, which might be a turn-off if you’re looking for a light beach read. Truth is, she demands that you meet her on her level, and I appreciated that she didn't simplify her arguments for the sake of accessibility. It’s a brilliant, sharp, and often funny exploration of what it means to be a black woman in America today.

As someone who rarely reads sociology, I found this collection both intimidating and deeply moving. The balance between personal memoir and structural analysis is handled with such skill, especially in the essays concerning class mobility and the 'capitalist logic' of beauty. Not gonna lie, I had to look up a few terms, but that’s part of the appeal of reading someone this brilliant. She challenges you to think about how power operates in the most mundane aspects of our lives. My only minor gripe is that some essays felt a bit dated in their specific political references, but the underlying theories are still incredibly relevant and sharp.

This collection is undeniably smart, but I struggled with the tone at times. Cottom makes it very clear that she isn't interested in persuading anyone who doesn't already share her foundational worldview, which can make the reading experience feel a bit like being lectured rather than being invited into a dialogue. Her critique of David Brooks and the 'deli meat' metaphor was funny, though it felt a bit like punching down given her obvious intellectual superiority. Look, if you’re looking for a comfortable read, this isn’t it. It’s provocative and often dismissive of outside critics, yet the core observations about classism and whiteness are too sharp to ignore entirely.

Not what I expected based on the glowing reviews. I found the writing to be incredibly impenetrable and so dense that my eyes started glazing over by the second essay. I appreciate that she’s a sociology professor, but the academic jargon felt like a barrier rather than a bridge to her ideas. Frankly, I think I’m just too frivolous for this kind of work, as I struggled to stay engaged with the theoretical frameworks she uses to explain everyday experiences. It’s clearly a smart book written by a very smart person, but it felt more like a series of lectures than a cohesive collection of essays for a general reader.