Book reviews: ‘Mutiny: The Rise and Revolt of the College-Educated Working Class’ and ‘Famesick: A Memoir’

‘Mutiny: The Rise and Revolt of the College-Educated Working Class’ by Noam Scheiber

“A college-educated working class sounds like an oxymoron,” said George Packer in The Atlantic. But New York Times labor reporter Noam Scheiber has great hopes for the cohort on which he’s affixed that label: college graduates in their 20s and early 30s who have had to settle for low-paying wage work after earning their degrees. In his new book, Scheiber profiles about a dozen or so young Americans who turned to labor activism following dispiriting experiences with employers including Starbucks, Amazon, Apple, Hollywood studios, and the universities that impoverished them in the first place. While he occasionally questions his subjects’ career decisions, “he’s plainly on their side,” viewing their perception of unfairness as real and their activism as the best way to fight economic inequality. Unfortunately, “he isn’t sufficiently aware of the insularity of their project,” of how unlikely it is that these young progressives will ever be joined by noncollege wage workers in an effective broader movement.

“There’s much truth in Scheiber’s reporting,” said Eric Levitz in Vox. College graduates have become more progressive in their economic views since the 1990s and more likely to identify with rank-and-file workers. But his claim that today’s college grads have been pushed leftward mainly by their collapsing economic fortunes is “a bit misleading.” Yes, tuition and housing costs have soared. But the share of college grads who hold low-wage jobs is smaller than it was three decades ago, and the relative return on a degree in lifetime earnings, despite the impact of the Great Recession and the pandemic, is significantly greater. The stories Scheiber shares are well told, and the precarity of his subjects’ lives “vividly evoked,” said Ruy Teixeira in The Wall Street Journal. But among their generation, they’re “an idiosyncratic subset,” not the norm.

You could also say Scheiber’s heroes were naive to expect better from their employers, said Kenneth S. Baer in Washington Monthly. Often, though, they were misled. Apple used the label “geniuses” for retail-store staffers like Chaya Barrett, but the sweet talk didn’t pay her bills and she soon turned to union organizing. While Mutiny celebrates such activism, Scheiber is “too keen an observer of American political life” to fail to mention that the college-educated working class may be too progressive to mesh easily with the rest of the working class, whose members strongly favored President Trump in 2024. But while Scheiber focuses on workplace issues, Mutiny is “ultimately an education book,” a warning to our colleges and universities that “higher education, as an industry, has become too expensive, too mercenary, and too irrelevant for far too many.”

‘Famesick: A Memoir’ by Lena Dunham

“This may be the first Lena Dunham work built on deep hindsight,” said Madeline Leung Coleman in NYMag.com. The star and creator of Girls shot to fame in her early 20s by appearing to present her own life raw, with all its embarrassments. She did so in her debut film, in her hit HBO series, on Twitter, and in her best-selling 2014 memoir. Now, though, as she nears 40, Dunham is ready to look back on those heady years and connect the dots between her impulse to share, her lightning-rod status, and the onset of chronic illnesses that still plague her. “It’s a Hollywood story written in blood and vomit and pus,” but because she’s a savvy writer, “she knows to foreground the relatable.”

“If you’ve hated Dunham this whole time and resented her success, well, good news,” said Scaachi Koul in Slate. “Famesick will tell you just how awful all that success made her feel.” As her star rose, critics blamed her for everything wrong in the world, including the failures of feminism, Millennials, and white people, and Dunham was listening. Worse, as she stretched herself thin during Girls’ six-season run, her body was rebelling, generating racking pain, triggering a Klonopin addiction, and eventually requiring acceptance of living with an incurable connective tissue disorder. Not surprisingly, “it’s a shocking and funny read,” packed with tidbits about fellow celebrities, and a reminder of “what made her so interesting in the first place.”

Dunham’s first memoir was “pert and packaged,” adorned with lists, asterisks, and “cute little pen-and-ink illustrations,” said Alexandra Jacobs in The New York Times. Famesick, to its credit, “dispenses with such pleasantries.” It also names names. Hitmaker Jack Antonoff is painted as an inadequate boyfriend. Adam Driver, Dunham’s onscreen boyfriend, throws a chair during the shooting of a difficult scene. Jenni Konner, Dunham’s co-showrunner, comes across as “a callous taskmistress,” one who ignored Dunham’s calls for medical help. “What a relief,” then, that Dunham, who’s been sober for eight years and is now married to a man she mentions only in the acknowledgments, is “not a true casualty of all the cruelty visited upon her.”