Payback: Debt and the Shadow Side of Wealth

by Margaret Atwood

Collected here, the Massey Lectures from legendary novelist Margaret Atwood investigate the highly topical subject of debt. She doesn’t talk about high finance or managing money; instead, she goes far deeper to explore debt as an ancient and central motif in religion, literature, and the structure of human societies. By looking at how debt has informed our thinking from preliterate times to the present day, from the stories we tell of revenge and sin to the way we order social relationships, Atwood argues that the idea of what we owe may well be built into the human imagination as one of its most dynamic metaphors. Her final lecture addresses the notion of a debt to nature and the need to find new ways of interacting with the natural world before it is too late.

Genres: Nonfiction, Economics, History, Essays, Canada, Philosophy, Politics

203 pages, Paperback

First published March 15, 2007

About the author

Margaret Atwood was born in 1939 in Ottawa and grew up in northern Ontario, Quebec, and Toronto. She received her undergraduate degree from Victoria College at the University of Toronto and her master's degree from Radcliffe College.

Throughout her writing career, Margaret Atwood has received numerous awards and honourary degrees. She is the author of more than thirty-five volumes of poetry, children’s literature, fiction, and non-fiction and is perhaps best known for her novels, which include The Edible Woman (1970), The Handmaid's Tale (1983), The Robber Bride (1994), Alias Grace (1996), and The Blind Assassin, which won the prestigious Booker Prize in 2000. Atwood's dystopic novel, Oryx and Crake, was published in 2003. The Tent (mini-fictions) and Moral Disorder (short stories) both appeared in 2006. Her most recent volume of poetry, The Door, was published in 2007. Her non-fiction book, Payback: Debt and the Shadow Side of Wealth ­ in the Massey series, appeared in 2008, and her most recent novel, The Year of the Flood, in the autumn of 2009. Ms. Atwood's work has been published in more than forty languages, including Farsi, Japanese, Turkish, Finnish, Korean, Icelandic and Estonian. In 2004 she co-invented the Long Pen TM.

Margaret Atwood currently lives in Toronto with writer Graeme Gibson.

Associations: Margaret Atwood was President of the Writers' Union of Canada from May 1981 to May 1982, and was President of International P.E.N., Canadian Centre (English Speaking) from 1984-1986. She and Graeme Gibson are the Joint Honourary Presidents of the Rare Bird Society within BirdLife International. Ms. Atwood is also a current Vice-President of PEN International.

Reviews

[Jaidee · Rating 2 out of 5]

2 "upper-middle class, pseudo left wing and bullshit" stars !!!

Ms. Atwood has written some of my favorite books, namely "Alias Grace" and "Oryx and Crake". She is very talented in some of her fiction but she really missed the mark (unless you are part of the well heeled but not too well heeled bureaucrats, academics and professionals that run downtown Toronto and feel that only their voices have truth), in this book based on a series of lectures she did some years back.

Indirectly she insults some of the "very hard working rich" and "working class folk" that let's face it keep the wheels a-turnin.

Sorry to be harsh. I really really really disliked this book!!

The tone was imperious, the facts sparse, the humor cheesie, the connections nebulous and the conclusions misguided.

You may eat organic, drink very fine wine, buy fair trade but also don't want halfway houses built in your neighbourhoods. Aaaaaaargh !!!!!

Sorry for the rant but it felt good after reading this.

In the end, I will continue to read and enjoy Ms. Atwood's fiction. But it's not fair she has a much bigger soapbox than I do ;)

[BlackOxford · Rating 3 out of 5]

The God of Cosmic Debt

Payback is a literary anthropology, not of the concept or practice of debt but of the relationship between debtor and creditor from ancient Greece to modern Europe and North America. Consequently, it will have little interest to economists or lawyers or ethicists to the extent that any of these is looking for evidence or exposition of a theory of debt. The facts Atwood presents are attitudes and judgements found almost exclusively in fictional writing. On the face of it, the book has little relevance to either governmental policy or personal finance. Atwood’s rather disconnected final chapter simply states her view, unsupported by any other material in the book, that modern industrial /consumer society has created a worsening ecological debt which is owed to Nature and for which Nature is about to seek payback, that is punitive retribution for the failure to honour the purported terms of this debt. Her literary exegesis is interesting and stimulating. Her ecological conclusions are pedestrian and boring.

One of her literary observations I find particularly interesting however: the driving force of mid-19th C English literature – she cites George Eliot, Dickens, and Thackeray primarily – is debt, particularly its corrupting effect on the institutions of society. This is obvious once stated but having been stated it is an insight that changes one’s outlook profoundly. Eliot’s The Mill on the Floss for example becomes not a tale of familial love and loyalty lost and found but one of debts perceived and disputed in a search for an equilibrium between debits and credits. The only winner is Lawyer Wakem who survives with a mere beating. Everyone else dies. And of course ‘death wipes the slate clean’ in the manner of an unpaid bar tab.

Atwood recognises the connection between religious belief and attitudes toward debt. But she doesn’t develop that connection nearly far enough. For example, she somewhat facilely comments on the Protestant Reformation as breaking the traditional Christian taboo on lending at interest. This is misleading at best. More significantly it misses the real significance of her observation about the importance of debt in English fiction.

Christianity, following the lead of Judaism and in parallel with Islam, has consistently condemned usury, the lending of money at any interest at all, from the time of the 2nd and 3rd C Church Fathers and the early Councils. The last explicit prohibition was contained in the encyclical Vix Prevenit of 1745 to the Italian bishops and generalised to the entire Catholic Church by Pope Gregory XVI in 1836. Since that date there has been, well, utter silence on the subject by the Church, no encyclical, no apostolic exhortation, no informal greetings to either promote or retract the ancient ecclesial displeasure with any form of debt. And this at the same epochal moment that the ‘debt crisis’ of the Industrial Revolution was reaching its literary peak?

It is of course tempting to attribute this silence to a pragmatic acceptance by the Church of a fait accompli that had become a central aspect of modern society. But the Catholic Church hasn’t been known for its cultural sensibilities in other areas like politics and sex. Or it could have occurred to Church policy-makers that the various technical subterfuges – the so-called three contract solution for example which converted debt into an interest free loan with insurance premiums attached, or which treated money as land that could be ‘rented’ through payment up front, or the various ‘greening’ ploys of Islamic finance – made the matter a legal maze that they didn’t want to get lost in. But of course the Catholic Church has rarely demurred from simplifying other complex situations like marriage or sacramental access into unshakeable canon law. And the fact that a significant portion of the 19th C world, at least those who spoke and read English, had adopted an increasingly negative view of creditors, credit law, penalties connected with that law and the social impact of debt, was encouraging a stand by the Church that was a pillar of its tradition. Why then did the Church decline, as it were, the invitation, to engage the world on its own turf?

I offer a suggestion, the only evidence for which is the abrupt but apparently permanent silence of the Church on the matter. The reason could well be a logical one involving the recognition that the profoundest and most central doctrine of the Church – the Atonement by Christ for the sin as well as sins of the world – is in fact undermined by the arguments traditionally presented against debt. These arguments imply that God the Father is a usurer, that his calculation of the debt owed by creation to himself as the Creator is of a magnitude which cannot be paid back by his creatures. In fact, according to the doctrine first formulated by St. Anselm in the 11th C, developed by Aquinas in the 13thC and taught by the Church since, this debt is an infinite imbalance in the moral universe, that is the debt is far greater than the ‘credit’ created in the material universe. Therefore, only the sacrifice of an infinite being, Christ, can compensate or atone for this imbalance between debits and credits. The formulation from the 1928 encyclical Miserentissimus Redemptor reads as follows: "The creature's love should be given in return for the love of the Creator, another thing follows from this at once, namely that to the same uncreated Love, if so be it has been neglected by forgetfulness or violated by offense, some sort of compensation must be rendered for the injury, and this debt is commonly called by the name of reparation"

It is this Substitution Theory of Atonement (as opposed to the previous prevailing Ransom Theory in which it is Satan who is paid to leave the world alone) that is directly attacked by the various medieval theories against lending at interest. Despite their disparate technicalities and arcane logics, all these theories are grounded in exactly the issue that Atwood identifies – not debt per se but the relationship created between debtor and creditor. This is a relation of power not simply obligation. Obligation is a moral force which free will (another central Christian doctrine) may choose to respond to or not. Power on the other hand is a material relationship of subjugation which by definition limits free will and implies coercion. Payback, revenge for failure to repay the debt according to the rules, is the purpose of Hell. Theories of usury were therefore implicit judgements of God the Father as usurious, as coercive in his demands of his creation.

It might be noted that in church-time Anselm’s doctrine is relatively recent; it takes centuries for dogmatic formulation to take place in the Catholic Church. The politics involved are at least as intense as in any other large organisation. Vix Prevenit and its 19thC re-statement might well be the last gasps of a faction intent on preserving the myth of un-changeability in Catholic doctrine if nothing else. Is it only coincidence that literature – liberal, politically independent literature – blossomed in a leading democratic society like Britain to adopt the stand historically taken by a now passive Church? And is it also possible that good theological reason for that passivity were being recognised, even if only intuitively by the denizens of the Church curia? Finally is it possible that Atwood has been so acculturated into the Atonement Theory of Anselm that she has applied it unwittingly to her ecological conclusion about Nature's impending revenge? Who knows, but I wish there were time in my life for another doctoral thesis.

[Kevin (the Conspiracy is Capitalism) · Rating 3 out of 5]

Debt’s Fictions…

Preamble:
--I admit I set exceedingly high standards for (novelist) Atwood’s 2008 CBC Massey Lectures on “debt”:
i) Debt:
--Graeber’s 500+ pages masterpiece Debt: The First 5,000 Years spoiled me on the topic.
ii) CBC Massey Lectures:
--Chomsky’s 1988 lectures Necessary Illusions: Thought Control in Democratic Societies is foundational; most memorable are the contentious question-and-answer segments at the end of each lecture (Atwood’s lectures do not have these) where Chomsky schools the media questioning him (see example; these segments seem only available in the audio recording of the lectures).
iii) Fiction to Nonfiction:
--My favourite novelists who write nonfiction are Arundhati Roy (My Seditious Heart: Collected Nonfiction) and Amitav Ghosh (The Nutmeg's Curse: Parables for a Planet in Crisis).

Highlights:

1) Fairness/Unfairness:
--Atwood, most known for the novel The Handmaid's Tale, refers to plenty of fiction literature (as well as some popular nonfiction) to communicate “debt”. While I personally prioritize nonfiction, I agree fiction can be useful cultural touchstones to engage wider audiences.
--At the core of debt, Atwood considers the dual nature of reciprocity:
a) Fairness:
--Atwood refers to Robert Axelrod’s (The Evolution of Cooperation) 1970s survival-of-the-fittest computer simulation contest. This was won by the “Tit for Tat” program, which used the strategy:
(i) First move = cooperate; this opens the door to avoid alienating the other. The “Golden Rule” (“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”).
(ii) Subsequent moves = reflect the action of the other’s previous move. The “eye-for-an-eye” rule (“Do unto others as they do unto you”); this differs from the idealistic “Golden Rule” to avoid being repeatedly victimized.
…Such game theory requires plenty of abstraction, so it’s important to pay attention to the assumptions. Atwood reminds us that this contest assumes a level playing field:

[…] TIT FOR TAT would have failed, because the player with the technological advantage could have obliterated its opponents, enslaved them, or forced them to trade on disadvantageous terms. This is in fact what has happened over the long course of our history: those that won the wars wrote the laws, and the laws they wrote enshrined inequality by justifying hierarchical social formations with themselves at the top.

…I won’t dwell on this level of vague generalities, other than to mention Varoufakis’ “Condorcet’s Secret” which challenges crude determinism (like Atwood’s passage) by focusing on contradictions: hierarchical rule relies on social consent of the masses (who are much greater in number and produce the surplus required for hierarchy):

The French thinker Condorcet put this point nicely at a time of another great convulsion of history, back in 1794, when he suggested that ‘force cannot, like opinion, endure for long unless the tyrant extends his empire far enough afield to hide from the people, whom he divides and rules, the secret that real power lies not with the oppressors but with the oppressed’. [Modern Political Economics: Making Sense of the Post-2008 World]

…For considerations of game theory in the real world, see: Governing the Commons: The Evolution of Institutions for Collective Action
b) Unfairness:
--As if Atwood’s winners-write-the-laws-of-fairness wasn’t pessimistic enough, reciprocity gets even uglier when there’s the notion of unfairness, i.e. its shadow: revenge.
--In dealing with unfairness, Atwood tries to contrast:
(i) Justice: Atwood connects justice to “revenge”. I get what Atwood is pointing at, but this ends up making a bigger mess typical of status quo liberals. Yes, “justice” is often weaponized as a cover for revenge (just look at the current genocide), but it is so cynical (cynical manipulators and cynical defeatists are as dangerous as zealots) to confuse this with meaningful justice. Justice requires actions from both sides to shift relations of power (including material conditions) to prevent continued injustices; it’s convenient for oppressors to crudely frame this as merely “revenge”/“envy” etc.
(ii) Forgiveness: Atwood lauds this as the antidote to break the chain of revenge, using the standard liberal example of Mandela’s forgiveness upon release from prison. Atwood frames this as the more “radical” antidote, compared to the only other antidote she offers: the (top-down) “courts of law” (which tries to resolve “debtor/creditor issues in a fair and equitable way”).
…Yes, forgiveness has a role to play in reconciliation, but it alone does not alter the underlying power structures perpetuating injustice (just look at South Africa’s political economy today, or any of the postcolonial countries which liberals mythologize, like Gandhi’s India; these countries are leaders in inequality). It’s no surprise that Atwood, a novelist in the world of ideas, biases idealism (changing ideas driving social change, i.e. forgiveness) over materialism (changing material conditions). For a vivid critique, see “What is Politics?” video series, in particular:
-"7. The Origins of Male Dominance and Hierarchy; what David Graeber and Jordan Peterson get wrong"
-"7.1 Material Conditions: Why You Can't Eliminate Sexism or Patriarchy by Changing Culture"
-"8. Materialism vs. Idealism: How Social Change Happens"
…Atwood uses the thought experiment of the US choosing to pursue forgiveness after the 9/11 attacks:

Just imagine the impact of taking such a position, not that there was a snowball’s chance in Hell of this ever happening. Now imagine how much different the world would have been today if that position had in fact been taken. No ongoing Iraq war. No impasse in Afghanistan. And above all, no ballooning and ruinous and nation-weakening and out-of-control big fat American debt.

…Yikes. We’ll address “American debt” later, but this framing of the US even having the option to take the moral high-ground is peak liberal framing. The status quo always conveniently assumes its own innocence/benevolence (American Exceptionalism and American Innocence: A People's History of Fake News―From the Revolutionary War to the War on Terror); it’s always the others starting conflicts out of the blue. This completely whitewashes the context: US empire’s long-standing (post-WWII) leading role in funding right-wing violence throughout the world, to sabotage the successes of alternatives (in the case of the “Middle East”, sabotaging any sovereignty, but in particular decolonization/socialism/secular Arab nationalism etc.):
-The Darker Nations: A People's History of the Third World
-The Management of Savagery: How America's National Security State Fueled the Rise of Al Qaeda, ISIS, and Donald Trump
-The Jakarta Method: Washington's Anticommunist Crusade and the Mass Murder Program that Shaped Our World
-Blowback: The Costs and Consequences of American Empire

2) History of Debt:
--Atwood redeems (pun!) herself to a certain degree when she stays tethered to real-world history. She starts with how states have financed their activities (including costly projects like wars):
i) Taxes:
--Simple political extraction from the public (mostly peasant masses). Its simplicity also makes it less abstract, risking the loss of social consent leading to tax revolts.
ii) Sell war bonds:
--Bondholders are a fascinating topic not covered in this book; try Hudson’s Trade, Development and Foreign Debt
iii) Domestic money lenders:
--When this goes wrong, Atwood highlights to the state option of killing the creditors. From the Knights Templar to the long history of using outgroups as financiers/legacies of scapegoating (antisemitism, etc.).
iv) Foreign money lenders:
--When this goes wrong, Atwood mentions the state option of default. I would counter with: debts are power relations; there’s a profound difference between Haiti’s “independence debt” (starting in 1825) to its former colonizer France (only completely paid off in 1947 thanks to the crippling interest from additional loans) vs. the “American debt” to foreign creditors in the US’s own currency (which the US freely “prints”, while in return the US gets to import tangible goods/pay for their military bases all over the world/issue its currency as the international reserve currency curtailing inflationary pressures). For details, see:
-Varoufakis’ The Global Minotaur: America, the True Origins of the Financial Crisis and the Future of the World Economy
-Hudson’s Super Imperialism: The Origin and Fundamentals of U.S. World Dominance
-Kelton’s The Deficit Myth: Modern Monetary Theory and the Birth of the People's Economy
--The best part of Atwood’s book is using the following literature to illustrate the rise of industrial capitalism:
i) Late-16th century Christopher Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus:
--Doctor Faustus’ extravagant wish list to the Devil leaves him unredeemable, reflecting the Christian virtues of thrift still present at the time.
ii) Late-18th Goethe’s Faust and mid-19th century Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol:
--As social values shift (we should add: this was driven by material conditions changing, in this case the driver of capitalist investment being debt), we see this reflected in culture; Goethe’s Faust was redeemed.
--The Protestant Reformation meant usury (charging interest on loans) was no longer forbidden for Christians. Ebenezer Scrooge’s miserly ways now became a sin, and he finds redemption through spending. These illustrative examples are why Varoufakis’ Talking to My Daughter About the Economy: or, How Capitalism Works—and How It Fails has such high praise for Atwood’s book.
--Dickens himself experienced debtors’ prisons in his childhood. Capitalism would shed this as its dynamism/recovering from busts required debt forgiveness, at least for capitalists…

…see comments below for rest of the review…

[Stela · Rating 4 out of 5]

It is amazing how Margaret Atwood can write about anything and be brilliant. Payback is a nonfiction about money, credit and debt, but do not expect it to be a self-help book, nor an exhausting view about debt (be it national debt, gambling or Mafia related and so on). Instead,

The subject of Payback is one of the most worrisome and puzzling things I know: that peculiar nexus where money, narrative or story, and religious belief intersect, often with explosive force.

Consequently, the five chapters of the book explore the “debtor/creditor twinship”, beginning with the development of the human sense of justice, that created elaborate systems of payments of the debts, in life and death (Ancient Balances), continuing with the question of who is the greater sinner, the debtor or the creditor (Debt and Sin), followed by some thoughts about the Faustian bargain in Marlowe’s and Dickens’s oeuvres (Debt as a Plot), and the Jungian explanation of revenge exemplified by The Merchant of Venice where Antonio and Shylock are each other’s double (The Shadow Side), to finish with the slightly menacing idea that the ultimate revenge is reserved to Gods (Payback).

Some random notes I took and I’d like to share with you:

-in The Eumenides Aeschylus presents the first court-of-law system: Athene prevents the Furies to punish Oreste and changes their name to the Eumenides – the kindly ones, at the same time creating the trial by jury;

-in sacrificing himself for the humankind, Jesus “acted as a cosmic Sin-Eater”;

-the 19th century novel is not driven mainly by love, but by money (Heathcliff overpowers Linton with his fortune):

The best nineteen-century revenge is not seeing your enemy’s red blood all over the floor but seeing the red ink all over his balance sheet.

-the Shadow theory formulated by Jung explains that irrational and obsessive hatred, against a person or a group one does not know very well, derives from the fact that one is not at peace with his own shadow (his dark side, everything one is ashamed of and instead of assuming it is projecting onto somebody else);

-revenge comes from the Latin revindicare, derived from vindicare – to rescue, liberate, emancipate.

Thus, to revenge yourself upon someone is to reliberate yourself, because before doing the revenge, you aren’t free.

[Aerin · Rating 5 out of 5]

(Original review date: 10 August 2013)

The whole world is swimming in debt, and by that I don't just mean a lot of us are up to our eyeballs in overdue bills. I mean that the concept of debt - of being in hock, of owing something to someone, of carrying a balance that will soon come due - is a construct that permeates our social environment, and has done so throughout recorded history. The idea of debt is central not only to our financial lives, but to our relationships with others, the metaphors we use and the stories we tell, and it can even be viewed as the primary theme of the Christian religion.

But what is debt? And why is it so important to the human condition?


Atwood is my favorite novelist because her incisive prose cuts so deeply and directly to the unspoken heart of any matter. This is the first nonfiction of hers that I've read, and I loved it for the same reason. I didn't know I had the capacity to fall so very hard in love with a nonfictional treatise.

Typically my opinion of non-narrative nonfiction varies along a single axis, from "interesting" to "boring". Sure, there's some room to impress me with style, but that's about it. This book is on a completely different plane. I know that there is more literary nonfiction out there, and I need to start finding it. Trendy Daily-Show intellectuals and their workmanlike disquisitions just aren't going to cut it for me anymore (sorry Nate Silver, et al.)


In Payback, Atwood looks at the philosophical, psychological, religious, and literary underpinnings of debt, searching for a deeper understanding of what it is and why it matters so much to us. After noting that justice and fairness are concepts observed not just in all human societies, but also in monkey and ape behavior, she surmises that there must be something innate within us that latches on to this idea. It's part of the basic human "smorgasbord" of concepts, just as "building a web" is part of a spider's, and "licking her own butthole" is part of my cat's.

And indeed, debt is a very old notion. Hammurabi's Code introduced the "eye for an eye" option for settling accounts. In ancient Egypt, your soul's moral credits and debits had better have evened out by the time you died, or else your heart would get thrown to the alligators. And ancient Greece and Rome gave us blind Justice, balancing the scales to ensure everyone gets what they are owed.

The book's most interesting chapters, however, deal with Christianity. Because, as Atwood deftly points out, the basic story of Christianity is a story about debt: God creates Man, who then owes the Almighty obedience and worship in return. But with original sin, Man defaults on this obligation and plunges himself even further into spiritual debt. It's such a massive imbalance that Man cannot hope to repay it and get his soul back into the black (especially since he keeps sinning and digging himself in deeper), but then Jesus comes around to redeem him (in both senses of that word). The debt is forgiven, and Man avoids the debtor's prison that is Hell.

It's as if our souls are all being held in hock in a mystical "pawnshop of the soul" - where the broker is the devil, and only Jesus can spot you the cash you need to get your shit back. When you die, you've either accepted the son of God's largesse, or whoops, time's up, Satan gets to keep you.

This way of framing Christianity is utterly fascinating to me. It takes this archetype that we associate with finances, capitalism, and worldly concerns, and shows how both it and our most holy testaments are cut from exactly the same cloth. There are only a few basic archetypes in human symbology, and the idea of debt is clearly a cardinal one.


Atwood goes on to examine debt in literature - whether financial (Ebenezer Scrooge's miserliness), spiritual (Dr. Faustus and others who sell their soul to the devil), or soaked in blood (the Merchant of Venice's pound of flesh, Hamlet's obligation of vengeance).

Finally, she looks at the debt we owe to the natural world - we have been drawing on Nature's resources for far too long and the balance is coming due.


Overall, this book is a fascinating examination of a concept I'd previously taken for granted. It's insightful, smart, funny, and incredibly readable. It won't tell you how to get yourself out of debt, but it will give you some insight into why your debt even matters, philosophically speaking. I can't praise this book enough. Atwood is my hero.

[Barbara · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is titled "Payback and the Shadow Side of Wealth." It does deal with financial debt, but also the larger concept of dept, balance, and fairness. Margaret Atwood is enjoyable smart and witty. I enjoyed this book! There were many memorable quotes. A put a couple of my favorites (so I can find them later)

"The trickle-down theory of economics has it that it's good for rich people to get even richer because some of their wealth will trickle own, through their no doubt lavish spending, upon those who stand below them on the economic ladder. Notice that the metaphor is not that of a gushing waterfall but of a leaking tap: even the most optimistic endorsers of this concept do not picture very much real flow, as their language reveals" pg. 102.

quoting a 2005 article in the London Times --
"Roughly put, antiomianism -- and this will have to be roughly put, since I make no claim to be a theologian-- is the idea that justification by faith liberates you from thee need to do good works. Righteousness overrides the law--which was arguably, the PM's position on Iraq. It can be seen, in some way, as the squaring of a tricky theological circle: the Calvinist idea that the Elect have been singled out for salvation as part of the divine scheme long before an of them were twinkles in the twinkles in their ancestors' eyes. If justification by faith, rather than by works, is the high road to heaven, the logical extreme of the position is that works don't matter at all." pg 69

[Emiliya Bozhilova · Rating 2 out of 5]

Нищо не разбрах и го зарязах на около 20%. Омотано на безброй фльонги нравоучение без никаква посока, но пък някак назидателно. Сладкодумно е, разбира се, Атууд винаги е стилна, но ясният и прям изказ никога не са и били силна страна, а тук ме дообъркаха. Намерението ми да надзърна “зад кулисите” се провали с гръм и трясък, така че ще разчитам на собствената си интерпретация в романите и, които са безкрайно по-увлекателни, ако и в някои случаи да си остават кълбо от неясноти.

1,5⭐️

[Carolyn Lane · Rating 4 out of 5]

Note: This Review was written in 2010 – but Atwood’s writing is even more relevant now when you consider the rise of the Occupy movement and the near-revolutionary activity in Greece, Spain and Portugal.


I like to imagine that baby Margaret Atwood’s first word was not “Mama” or “Dada”, but “Why?”
When novelist Atwood focuses her curiosity on our personal and societal relationship with debt she shifts the discussion into quite a different realm from the normal commentary on the financial crisis.

The timing of the publication of “Payback: Debt and the Shadow Side of Wealth” could not have been better, but this is clearly not the result of a opportunistic trip to the keyboard. Her scope ranges from primatology to theology, with the classics, advertising and literature woven in, as she explores the “whys” of our relationship with debt.

It may be dense with information, but dry, it is not! Those of us who love to find out “what lies behind….” will be constantly exclaiming “oh… that’s why!”, and those of us who relish a finely-turned phrase will be chuckling with delight at because of throwaway lines like “Currency is called ‘currency’ because it must flow” (p99).

Atwood starts with the concept of balance, not just in the accounting books, but in our fundamental belief in fairness, and the evidence that this belief is hard-wired in humans. Capuchin monkeys and chimpanzees display it, all ancient religions are based on it, and without it we’d never trade. Trading requires recording – and number systems developed to support it. So far so good - fair exchange, with an expectation of fair payback, at a due date, and a way of accounting for it.

So how did the relationship between debt and sin evolve? The ancient goddesses from the Egyptian Ma’at to the Greeks and Romans were involved in weighing up our behaviour and handing out retribution. “The whole theology of Christianity”, as Atwood puts it, “rests on the notion of spiritual debts and what must be done to repay them.” (p67). The “sin” has been attributed over time both to lender and borrower.

Having canvassed religion, Atwood turns her erudition to “debt as plot”, and indications of a paradigm shift in our attitude to debt that’s visible in the practically the whole of the 19th century novel genre. You’ll never read George Eliot and Jane Austen in the same way again. Of course Dickens and Scrooge feature largely, and return later. Marlow’s Faustus and Shakespeare’s Shylock were forerunners in an exploration of debt and payback – and Atwood’s insights into both had me putting them back on my reading list. For me, that is a true test of a book … does it create those widening ripples of interest that has me re-discovering known books, and seeking out new ones? Payback certainly does that.

And when the debt goes bad? When the cost is too high? Atwood looks at debtors’ prisons, loan-sharks’ debt collectors – and more globally, the revolutions that have resulted from rulers and governments who have imposed heavy taxes to pay for wars. She muses about how the world would be different if after Sept 11 2001 the President of the US had opted for forgiveness instead of vengeance. “No ongoing Iraq war. No impasse in Afghanistan. And above all, no ballooning and ruinous and nation-weakening and out-of-control big fat American debt”(p161).

Atwood is clear that the concept of balance, fairness and payback is about much more than money - they are “moral debts, or debts having to do with imbalances in the right order of things. … The concept of balance is pivotal: debtor and creditor are two sides of a single entity … and exchanges between them - in a healthy economy or society or eco-system – tend towards equilibrium.” (p 163)

To illustrate her last chapter, Atwood creates “Scrooge Nouveau” – a 21st C version of Dickens character, and takes him through similar journeys – with many more delights for the “why” addict. Scrooge is guided through the impacts of deforestation, over-fishing, over-farming, war and revolution, famine and disease… the global evidence of the imbalances we have created. What is the payback which is coming towards its due date?

It could all be very heavy going– or very preachy. But Atwood’s deft turn of phrase, her creative mind, and her wide canvas means that she can move from her “why?s” into her message without missing a beat. If you only know her as a novelist… try this! I was re-reading her “The Blind Assassin” at the same time as re-reading Payback for this review. One genre enriched the other, and both enriched me. That’s fine payback for the reading investment.

Payback: Debt And The Shadow Side Of Wealth.
Margaret Atwood
Bloomsbury Publishing – London, Berlin, New York, 2008.
ISBN 9780747598718

[Agreenhouse · Rating 3 out of 5]

As President Obama signs the 800 billion dollar stimulus package today, and our national debt balloons to a 53-year high of 10 trillion dollars, lots of us have debt on our minds. Most of us are simply focusing on how to pay our credit card bills, but Margaret Atwood takes on debt from evolutionary, spiritual, and literary standpoints.

She starts the book by explaining how reciprocity is the underlying structure of most human and primate relations. We are willing to give and share, as long as we know that person/primate will give and share with us in the future. She cites a study in which monkeys were trained to trade pebbles for cucumber slices. Then the scientists gave some monkeys grapes, a far better reward than a cucumber. The other monkeys got upset and eventually refused to participate in the trading. Basically, they went on strike, demanding equal pay for equal work. In the wild, chimps also cooperate based on mutually beneficial trading or reciprocal altruism. Chimp A will help Chimp B gang up on Chimp C, but if later on, Chimp B doesn’t help Chimp A, Chimp A will get very angry and throw a tantrum.

In humans, reciprocal altruism is important not only to emotion, but also to cognition. People were far better at solving problems when the problems were framed as cheater detection problems. We think through problems more easily when we are seeking out fairness.
From these studies, it is apparent that society and relationships function best when we balance out debt towards each other. We are programmed to not let others take advantage of us. We will give as long as we know we will receive something back in the end. Even in parent/child relationships, potentially the most debt-ridden ones, parents expect or hope to receive love in return for the care they provide.

Atwood spends a good portion of the book giving examples from Faust to Dickens of people selling their souls to the devil, the most extreme form of debt. And you thought it was hard to get out of paying those late fees…

Thank you Lilliam for your recommendation and lending me the book. I promise to reciprocate in the near future.

[Stephen Durrant · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book could hardly be more timely nor from the hand of a better writer. No, this is not fiction, at least not for the most part, but a study of debt. Margaret Atwood begins her book by considering the idea of fairness, upon which so much loaning and paying back are based. She then considers the connection between debt and sin, pointing out, among other things the variance in the Lord's Prayer between "forgive us our debts" and "forgive us our trespasses." Atwood goes on to argue that debt is at the heart of much fiction, particularly that of the nineteenth century. Central to this section is a fascinating reading of Dickens' "Scrooge," a reading that will reverberate with the final section of her book. The last two chapters deal with the "Shadow Side" of debt--that is, the dark results from incurring a debt one cannot pay back--and the ultimate "Payback," which is what we all might reap for extracting wealth from the earth, "borrowing" from the earth, we might say, without ever really imagining that the time to pay back our debt would arrive as surely as did the time for Doctor Faustus relinquish his soul to the devil. This entire book is a very interesting and informative read, and the last chapter, which contains a biting rewrite of the Scrooge story, with a Wall Street executive as the Nouveau Scrooge, is a must. One final comment. It is always thrilling, as a lover of literature, to see someone use literature so effectively while making an argument that deals with the "world of reality" . . . in this case, politics and economics. Atwood does this about as well as it can be done.

[Frank · Rating 3 out of 5]

Gut geschriebenes großes Essay über Schuldenmetaphern mit viel literarischen Anspielungen und Interpretationen. Freilich ist mir wieder unbegreiflich, welches Hirn mir das Buch als irgendwie "ökonomisch" angepriesen hat. Wer hier Erläuterungen zur Geldtheorie o.ä. sucht, der sucht vergeblich. Aber was soll's? Zwar las ich das Buch, weil ich sehen wollte, wie eine M.A. sich diesem Thema nähert, aber nun bin ich's zufrieden, dass sie bei ihrem Leisten blieb. Was meint, dass ich nichts gelernt habe. Was nicht meint, dass niemand daraus etwas lernen könnte. Viel zu oft wird immerhin verdrängt, welche Rolle Schulden spielen und man legt sich keine Rechenschaft darüber ab, dass auch heute nur ein radikaler Schuldenschnitt (wie er historisch schon durch Ereignisse wie die Pest erfolgt ist - von einem Toten kann man nichts fordern) aus der pekuinären Misere führen kann. Wer anders als ich immer noch glaubt, das würde "das System" zum Zusammenbruch führen (Schäuble, Scholz und die anderen schwarzen und roten Nullen lassen grüßen!), der kann bei Atwood lernen, dass "das System" schon zusammengebrochen ist. Bestürzend aktuell lesen sich ihre Ausführungen zu Epidemien in übervölkerten Städten und bei mangelernährten Völkern- es ist, als hätte sie über Corona geschrieben. Ohnehin ist das ganze letzte Kapitel stark, indem - in Anlehnung an Dickens Figur des Scrooge - ein reicher Snob von drei Geistern in das Gestern, das Jetzt und in mögliche Zukünfte entführt wird. Dieser Teil ist Literatur und stark, weil er eindringlich vor Augen führt, wofür wir bezahlen werden. Als Scrooge nouveau von einem Untier, das er lieber nicht gesehen hätte, in die Zukunft entführt wird, in der es keine Menschen mehr gibt, bittet er um einen Blick in eine nähere Zukunft, in der er sich dann als Wohltäter, als Versager und als Verlierer im Existenzkampf während der großen Inflation sieht. Welche Zukunft eintreten wird, fragt er den Geist, der das nicht weiß. Alles ist ein großes "Vielleicht"... Dem letzten Teil als Einzelveröffentlichung, es wäre nur ein schmales, aber doch ein tolles kleines Essay- Bändchen, hätte ich die fünf Sterne bewilligt. Das Ganze hat mich nicht geärgert, hat mich auch nicht in Versuchung geführt, das Buch aus der Hand zu legen (resp. den Computer auszuschalten), aber es hat MIR auch nichts gegeben. Daher sind die drei Sterne ein ganz subjektives Urteil; jüngeren Lesern (womöglich BWLern?) sei der Text durchaus empfohlen. Auf jeden Fall interessanter als diese Fortsetzung vom "Report der Magd", deren Titel ich schon vergessen habe...

[Chinook · Rating 4 out of 5]

Margaret Atwood is the kind of writer who makes me want to read more - not just more of her own writing, though certainly I intend to eventually read all she's written, but she also makes me want to read everything there is out there. Her breadth of knowledge and acquaintance with other texts is always astounding. In addition to writing incredible books, I'll never forget her wonderful sense of humour and fascinating talks - living in Edinburgh was a treat for a bookworm like me.

"Payback: Debt and the Shadow Side of Wealth" is one of the CBC Massey Lectures. Inaugurated in 1961 to provide a forum on radio where major contemporary thinkers could address important issues of our time, Atwood's series of lectures are from 2008. People often tell me I'm impossible to buy books for because I've read or bought so many of the ones I want that they can't determine what I wouldn't have. For future reference (mom), since the local English bookstores don't carry the Massey Lectures series and I've only read three (the other two were "The Truth About Stories" by Thomas King and _____________________ by Stephen Lewis), so they are always a safe bet. All three have been incredibly fascinating books.

In the first chapter, Atwood talks about the origins of a sense of fairness, balance, and justice - concepts that may go back beyond humanity - apparently monkeys also get upset if when they have been taught that they can trade pebbles for cucumber slices and then one of them gets a far more coveted grape. She goes on to examine, in Chapter Two, the connection between debt and sin and between debtor and creditor, both of whom have been considered sinful at different times in history. The third chapter looks at the use of debt in plots and the symbolisms of mills and millers, who were thought of as cheats and Devil-like characters as the Industrial Revolution and capitalism marched on through the nineteenth century. She concludes the chapter with an old Greek saying, that the mills of the Gods grind slowly but they grind very small (thoroughly). Chapter Five looks at what happens when it comes time to pay up: debtor's prisons, loan-sharks, liquidating creditors, rebelling against unfair taxes, and blood-soaked revenge. The final chapter is a rewrite of the Scrooge story, reframing it to look at the debt we owe to the environment, which we destroy, and those in the developing world, whose labor we profit off of.

"Saint Nicolas is the patron saint of pawnbrokers-there's a touching legend whereby he provides dowries for three poor girls who can't get married without them... There's nothing whatsoever to the other legend about Saint Nicolas-that he comes down the chimney every December 25 with a sack full of stuff he's nicked from the pawnshop. It is however true that the nineteenth-century colloquial expression "Old Nick"-meaning the Devil-is directly connected with Saint Nicolas. There are other clues. Note the red suit in the case of each; note the hairiness, and the association with burning and soot. We get the slang term "to nick," meaning "to steal," from.. But I digress, pausing simply to add that Saint Nicolas, as well as being the patron saint of young children, those sticky-fingered elfin creatures with scant sense of other people's property rights, is also the patron saint of thieves. Saint Nicholas is always found in the vicinity of a big heap of loot, and when asked where he got it he'll tell an implausible yarn involving some non-human labourers hammering away in a place he euphemistically calls his "workshop." A likely story, say I."

"Without memory, there is no debt. Put another way: without story, there is no debt. A story is a string of actions occurring over time-one damn thing after another, as we glibly say in creative writing classes-and debt happens as a result of actions occurring over time. Therefore, any debt involves a plot line: how you got into debt, what you did, said, and thought while you were in there, and then-depending on whether the ending is to be happy or sad-how you got out of debt, or else who you got further and further into it until you became overwhelmed by it, and sank from view."

"In my part of the world we have a ritual interchange that goes like this:
First person: "Lovely weather we're having."
Second person: "We'll pay for it later."
My part of the world being Canada, where there is a great deal of weather, we always do pay for it later. One person has commented, "That's not Canadian, it's just Presbyterian." Nevertheless, it's a widespread saying among us."

"By making amends then, Scrooge is paying a moral debt. To whom does he owe this debt, and why? In Dicken's view, he owes it to his fellow man: he's been on the take from other people all his life-that's where his fortune has come from-but he's never given anything back. By being a creditor of such magnitude in the financial sense, he himself has become a debtor in the moral sense, and it's this realization that's at the core of his transformation. Money isn't the only thing that must flow and circulate in order to have value: good turns and gifts must also flow and circle-just as they do among chimpanzees-for any social system to remain in balance."

[Lea · Rating 5 out of 5]

What an extraordinary book. I am incredibly impressed at the variety of literary and scientific sources combined with multiple storytelling methods that Atwood uses. A Christmas Carol has always been one of my favorite books. It has been parodied a thousand times, I think, but Atwood's suggestion of the debt owed to Mother Earth and the hilarious Cockroach Future Trader Ghost was brilliant.

[Karen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Exellent. Classic Atwood humour and detail. Interesting/curious history of the debt issue. Wry. Predicted, to some degree, the fall presently happening. Definitely worth reading. Small book.

[Hayley · Rating 4 out of 5]

As Atwood explains in her Introduction, if you sign up to do the Massey Lectures, writing the lectures into a longer book is one of the deliverables. As such, this book reads like a lecture series. Atwood makes some bold remarks – statements you would not find in an essay genre which likes to carefully lead readers through an argument. Clearly, Atwood wants a visible reaction from an audience (laughter, shock, maybe your idea of the Atwood from your book covers was surprised by this snarky public speaker Atwood – my first impression was one of surprise when I heard her public speak at a different reading event).

Feeling buried under a culture of numbers at work, I turned to this book because I wanted the relief of looking at economics from an arts, social constructionist theory, point of view. I had read excerpts in my Can Lit class; it was time to read the whole thing. Payback explores “the way human beings have thought about what is owed, who owes it, and how it should be repaid – the balancing of the scales, in religion, literature, the criminal underworld, the revenge tragedy, and in Nature” (Atwood xii).

Atwood begins by establishing human’s notion of fairness and how a sense of owing or paying to become balanced is rooted in our culture and overlaid with notions of virtue and sin. Paying off your debts to redeem your soul – those kinds of myths which are at the root of major religions and ancient civilizations.

I particularly enjoyed chapter three “Debt as Plot.” Atwood’s premise opens the chapter: “Without memory, there is no debt. Put another way: without story, there is no debt” (81), which serves as a segway to her literary analysis, mainly of nineteenth-century novels, a century “in which debt as plot really rages through the fictional pages (Atwood 100).

Atwood’s literary readings of note:

1. Scrooge as a reverse Dr. Faustus: Faustus makes a deal with demonic agents to spend a ton of money and is damned. Scrooge is visited by angelic beings because he is not spending enough and is saved. “Everything Faustus does, Scrooge does backwards” (Atwood 90).

2. The happy ending of A Christmas Carol is essentially capitalist. Atwood explains that “Scrooge’s big sin was to freeze his money, for money,...is of use only when it’s moving” (99). Scrooge is considered a changed, redeemed man when he stops his scroogy hoarding and starts spending – turkey for the Cratchits, donations for the poor, a raise for his clerk; he is doing what the politicians hope consumers will do to overcome a recession – buy, buy, buy to kick-start the economy.

3. Vanity Fair as an example of trickle-down economics, which Atwood logically expands to “the negative...trickle-down theory of debt” (103). Debt from large debtors, like Becky and her husband Rawdon Crawley, trickles down with serious consequences: These trickle-down debts “may not in themselves be large, but are large for those upon whom they trickle. Poor Mr. Raggles, from whom the Crawleys rent their house without ever paying for it, is utterly and completely ruined when the Crawley household falls apart and its members decamp” (Atwood 103).

4. Shylock and Antonio as creditor and debtor in the Merchant of Venice and how they violate the codes of balance and business practice. One such principle being: do not take away a man’s livelihood as repayment, as he won’t have the toolkit to repay the debt which results in his indefinite position of owing. Atwood researches the history of business practice of the time. Only non-Christians were allowed to charge interest, so by his punishment “Shylock is twice so deprived: first, by the loss of his money – that is his working capital, which is his toolkit – and second, by the stipulation that forces him to turn Christian, which cuts him off from the ability to charge interest,” and thus his profession (Atwood 157).

Atwood’s last chapter “Payback” turns to the debt we owe nature. We greedily rack up expenditures for our immediate pleasures which have a cost on a grand scale - nature will pay us back and is paying us back with ecological disasters, species extinction, pandemics. In her introduction, Atwood addresses how readers in 2008 marveled over how her lectures were prophetic of the financial crisis due to the burst of the housing bubble built on mortgage debts. Reading her work now in Covid-19, I discovered she eerily hits the mark again when she analyses past and imagines future pandemic plagues (Atwood 184) as repayment for the cost of our buy now, pay later lifestyle. I’m not saying Covid is retribution for capitalist sins, but it is a consequence of globalization which came about from trade. I wonder if Atwood would classify it as payback.

[Susan Albert · Rating 4 out of 5]

Margaret Atwood's Payback: Debt and the Shadow Side of Wealth arrived at the end of 2008--an opportune time, when families were watching jobs and mortgages implode, corporations and communities running out of credit, and the global economic system undergoing a meltdown, all because of debt. It was, truly, payback time.

And even though the Credit Crash of 2008 is history, its effects linger on--and for some people, have become magnified. Readers will have that ongoing dramatic scenario fresh in their minds as they follow her investigations into the meaning of debt. "Like air," she says, "it's all around us, but we never think about it unless something goes wrong with the supply." Something has gone wrong, and it's time—past time—to give it some very serious thought. This is just what Atwood does, in a wry, witty, wonderful dance of ideas about debt and its importance in human cultures.

A word of caution, though: if you're looking for suggestions for getting out of the debt mess you're in, you've come to the wrong book. Payback is not a how-to, or even a how-not-to. It is a how-we-got-here, a how-this-is, a how-to-think-about-it, an intellectual (sometimes maddeningly so) journey into the meaning of debt. Atwood examines debt as a metaphor for all our obligations to one another; debt and sin; debt as a literary subtext in everything from Mephistopheles and Vanity Fair to A Christmas Carol; unpaid and unpayable debt; and the "debtor/creditor twinship." When you stop to think about it (and you do stop, and you do think, under Atwood's spell), debt and credit underlie everything under our sun and beyond, even our redemptive and retributive notions of Heaven and Hell. "In Heaven," Atwood writes, "there are no debts—all have been paid, one way or another." Hell is a different story. It's an "infernal maxed-out credit card that multiples the charges endlessly."

You can read Atwood's book in many ways. As an illuminating companion to Jacob Needleman's Money and the Meaning of Life, for instance. Or as a cautionary tale about what happens when we borrow more—money, time, natural resources—than it is possible to repay. Or as a literary tour de force that celebrates the audacity of a gifted and agile wordsmith. Read it to be challenged, to be frustrated, perhaps even to be angered by some of the writer's glib simplifications, and to raise compelling questions. Don't read it for answers, because Atwood, like most poets, doesn't have them and doesn't really want them. In the end, in her reworking of the tale of Ebenezer Scrooge, all she has—all we have—are questions:

I don't really own anything, Scrooge thinks. Not even my body. Everything I have is only borrowed. I'm not really rich at all, I'm heavily in debt. How do I even begin to pay back what I owe? Where should I start?

It is a question that many of us, these days, are hard-pressed to answer.

Originally published: http://www.storycirclebookreviews.org...

[Juliet Wilson · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a brilliant book from Margaret Atwood (who is my favourite poet, despite her being better known as a novelist). This book however is neither poetry nor fiction but a considered, thought provoking and enlightening look at debt. It looks at the idea of debt and how it has informed politics, the justice system and literature through history. Atwood looks at word origins and the origins of debt awareness, showing that other primates are aware of debt. She also looks at how potent a theme debt has been in literature. She makes an interesting point about George Eliot's Mill on the Floss representing a moment of social change, a moment where the miller (historically mistrusted for reasons discussed by Atwood) becomes ursurped in this position by the lawyer.

The last chapter in the book looks at the issue of Ecological Debt and sees Dicken's character of Scrooge facing the Spirits of Earth Day Past, Present and Future. This is a particularly powerful chapter and forces the reader to think about the debt we all owe to the earth and our environment.

For all the weighty issues discussed in this book, it is totally engrossing and includes very useful appendices of reading resources so that you can not only find out more about the issues but that you can sign up for environmental campaigns and find ethical alternatives. Essential reading I would say.

[Althea Ann · Rating 4 out of 5]

Look! I read a non-fiction book!
Yes, I usually read fiction books, and non-fiction in magazine or journal articles. Ironically, this non-fiction book (which I liked very much) reminded me why. Most non-fiction is just not written in a style that encourages long-form reading. Atwood is an exception – probably correlated with her being a consummate fiction writer.

The writing here is engaging and consistently interesting. It’s almost like sitting down to dinner with a chatty Atwood, as she digresses on subjects near and dear to her heart.

Atwood is considering the human concept of debt – how and why we have the feeling of “owing” someone – the whole idea of obligation. Her thoughts draw on her not-inconsiderable personal knowledge and research, as she discusses her theme as it appears in history, religion, literature and anthropology.

The first four chapters are 5-star. Unfortunately, the final chapter, largely taken up with a didactic allegory, gets very, very preachy. (And I mean Sheri-S.-Tepper levels of preachy.) It wasn’t necessary – the content of the first four chapters got the point across very clearly, already. I’m already converted; so the finale felt a bit patronizing.

[Maire · Rating 5 out of 5]

Imagine how Margaret Atwood might sound if you asked her to deliver a few lectures on the topic of debt and its role in history and literature. Everything you might imagine is right here--her humor, her insight, her far-ranging taste. And most importantly, the lovely connections that she can draw to make us all feel like we're in it together.

Exquisite, but didactic. Pick it up if you're looking for a short read that teaches you something. This is one of those weird books where MONTHS later, I am still finding references to what she talked about in nearly everything I read/see/do. Seriously.

"The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exquisitely small." What do you get from that sentence? Its axiomatic meaning? Well, according to Atwood, there are approximately three or four interesting things behind that sentence. And she will tell you all of them!

I think someone should pay Atwood to give a different lecture series like this EVERY year, so that we have even more opportunities for her to apply her unique capabilities to all kinds of different topics. I just can't get enough of it.

[Philip Athans · Rating 5 out of 5]

Find my full-throated recommendation of this book at:

http://fantasyhandbook.wordpress.com/...

[Al · Rating 3 out of 5]

On an episode of Conversations with Tyler, Margaret Atwood -- apropos of nothing -- mentioned how it's interesting that in The Wizard of Oz, the wizard, who is male and all-powerful, is a fake, whereas all the witches have real magic. And I was like -- huh, that's interesting, but what does that mean? And then she moved on to something else.

In a way, that's kind of how I feel about this book. It's got a lot of interesting interconnected ideas that don't really go anywhere. And the conclusion in the final chapter -- Payback -- doesn't really work within the context of everything that came before.

In any case, I did not not-enjoy reading this. And that's about the best I can say about it.

[Nicolette Hawkins · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book is laid out plain and simple for the reader, though there would be some confusion for a person who is not well read. A weakness in this book is that she assumes everyone reading it is going to be well-cultured. For the average college student there will be some things that have to be researched in order to grasp the full concept of what she is saying through her stories. Her tone is amusing and witty, it’s not impossible to make the book entertaining and educational to read. She wrote the book not just to drivel out a history lesson, but to implement the meanings of history to modern life today.
The different angle that is taken in this book is to look at debt for what it was, what it is, and what it may or may not become. The reader is meant to be thrown into a whole new world of thought. It’s up to you to decide if debt is a good thing or not, how much is really necessary, and how we developed our sense of moderate debt being okay. Atwood also throws in a little food for thought with the last chapter, revealing what possibilities could be coming up in our future if we keep taking the path we are on. She also mentions what could happen if we stop getting into debt so much. This results in a good thing, if you haven’t guessed already.
Overall, there is no formal plot to the book, and you can make an assumption where she is headed with the conclusion straight from the beginning. The thing that will keep you interested in this book is the pages between the first and last one, which is what is important and will make you think about your surroundings. It’s a book I recommend to an educated reader and someone that enjoys doing a little side research. However, if you’ve fallen asleep in every history class you’ve ever taken, you might not be able to make much sense of what she is trying to interpret for you.

[Guy · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an excellent book! The breadth of thought and history and myth and language and the Bible and literature and thought that is brought to light in the examination of debt is delightful. As I suspected when I first read it, there is too much to be absorbed properly with just one read. And now that I have just finished my 2nd read I was correct: it is far better the second time through.

I was fascinated by how the role of sinner has been applied at one time or another to both the debtor and the creditor, because, as Atwood points out, you can't have one without the other. Also, the issue of erasing debts as a method of restoring balance, where balance means coming to a fair social and economic circumstance. Her description of the development of justice, and why it is the symbol of it is female is interesting.

I particularly enjoyed her examination of justice, revenge, and money as told through Shakespeare's controversial play, The Merchant of Venice.

I was a little surprised when she failed to make the archetypal/mythological link between dragons destroying societies by amassing and then hoarding a community's gold when she was examining Scrooge-like greed amassing unused fortunes while society becomes impoverished.

On my first read I kind of agreed with those who criticized the ending. But somehow the 2nd read gave it weight. I have no idea why, but it felt much more satisfying but sadder.

I have blogged it quite extensively, and will be blogging it more in the next while. See egajd books.

[Thurston Hunger · Rating 2 out of 5]

I enjoyed this book at the outset, it felt like a chance to listen in on an author wool-gathering facts for spinning fiction. And the idea of debts/trespasses caught my post-Cathoholic ear, apparently as it did an ear at the Economist, since I saw Atwoord's comments referenced there.

It seems like debt used to be a more isolated misfortune, as opposed to a mandated one. And step aside mortgages, here come school loans! That's what drew me to the book (and Atwood's prose prowess), as hinted at by the "Debt and the Shadow Side of Wealth."

After awhile, however, the erudite bites eroded and I was left with an Oxford Dictionary definition (really, gulp Rhetoric 1A?) and then a protracted Ebenezeer Scrooge re-telling. Bigger gulp. It was nice to see the left have at least some semblance of talking points to counter the right's, but hiking through the closing preachy scree slowed me down considerably.

I don't take crimes against Mother Nature lightly, but this was not exactly the debts I wanted to spend my time on. With debt, you've got to keep an eye on interest, and mine was dwindling as I finished this.

[Rasjel · Rating 1 out of 5]

I love the author's novels. That said, I didn't much care for this non-fiction at all. As a discussion of what debt means to society, this books doesn't even scratch the surface. It felt as if Atwood merely wanted a subject that she could overlay over a bunch of classic lit that she's read and show the reader how erudite she is: the discussion and comparisons remain very shallow. The final chapter's rewrite of Scrooge's ghostly wake-up call was an interesting (and frightful) representation of how man is using up the earth, but I didn't see how it had much bearing at all on the topic of "debt" beyond saying, "man owes the earth respect". True dat, but eh. This book was all over the place, and as such, has no gravitas. I recommend to skip it.

[Nick Klagge · Rating 3 out of 5]

I just happened upon this at a bookstore, and thought the intersection of author and topic was interesting enough to buy it. It's fairly engaging, kind of like a "lite" version of Graeber's "Debt," but I didn't feel like I learned that much by the end. I was interested in Atwood's discussion of millers historically being understood as dangerous in folklore--this was also the stance on millers in Le Guin's "Always Coming Home," and it had seemed like kind of a weird choice to me at the time.

[Petra · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very interesting and witty look of how the concept of "fairness" is intigrated into out beings. Also of how the role of a Debtor and Lender change over time, as seen through Literature and Life events.

[Anna Bunce · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book made me wish Margaret Atwood would write more non-fiction. It is EXCELLENT.

[Brian Tucker · Rating 5 out of 5]

It doesn't matter what Atwood writes...I'll read it.

[Marlies · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed the history in this.