I really like Brene Brown--she gave a terrific and funny TED talk about her research concerning the importance of vulnerability, of imperfection, of failure, and so I read her book. I think her thesis is superb, her research about shame and wholeheartedness really interesting, and the message of the book necessary to modern life. But! I can't help it. I hoped for a little more "perfectionism" in the writing (and structuring! of the book as a whole) which could have used another round or two of editing. (I'm sorry, Brene! Old habits die hard.) STILL, it is an important idea and worth reading.
Two other wishes:
1. That she included us in the process of her research. I'd like to see some examples and learn better or more directly how she drew her conclusions. Call me a geek. I like the science of it, and I think it would make for a more interesting read.
2. I think she might enlarge her audience. It felt to me as though the book were written for the privileged--those employed in demanding dream jobs with financial stability and intact families. Don't those down on their luck need help with turning failure into opportunity? Not all of the book felt this way, but some of it did. I also wasn't a fan of the religious element--she seemed to enlarge the discussion for people of all faiths/no faith and then in another part return to her own. Perhaps this was not entirely bothersome as it is written from her point of view, in her voice, but these inclusions felt a little narrow and even shallow at times.
And, one last thing: I think a lot of self-help books are written for the spa set. I am not saying this book fits into that category entirely, but it feels like many do. After all, many people can't afford to scale back and are working several jobs just to buy orange juice and gas just now. (And health insurance? The cost of prescription drugs. And, good God, the student loan! And, foreclosures.) I read somewhere that the average income for a family of four is $40,000. Is that true? If it is, ! And, of course, too, many people are out of work or have work that in no way represents who they are because they have to have a job. So. ? Sometimes I think these books are a little out of touch. And, lack gratitude in fundamental ways: financial stability, a job of one's dreams. A roof over one's head. The ability to protect/feed/use preventative care/immunize etc. and educate and nurture one's children. Well. So, I have said it. And, perhaps it is unfair. It is not wrong to also think about oneself and to grow in important ways, no matter one's circumstances. But, one place that stood out to me in this text was a trip to the mall with her daughter, not having washed her hair and thrown it back with a headband I believe it was. There are some sparkling, clean women there with their children, and her daughter begins to dance to the music as they do in their kitchen at home, as a family. She decides not to allow the judgment of these women bother her and instead dances with her daughter to the music. On the surface, sort of sweet. Combatting the shame ? maybe? being messed up and dancing in public while people at least appear to think you are nuts (maybe they don't really and that is one's made-up fantasy, who knows?). BUT. I was thinking about another reader. What about the shame/vulnerability/feelings of failure or imperfection of not being able to afford a pair of shoes for one's daughter? And, apologizing to one's daughter walking by the women with shopping bags and children with new clothes? Or, not being able to go to the mall at all? Isn't it deeply fortunate to dance while shopping and return home with plenty or all one needs? hair unwashed or not? Still, I do think the central message of Brown's book is instructive and, as I said, important. But. ? I sometimes think these books lack a sense of perspective or proportion.