AUDIOBOOK
About
From talented Mexican American writer, story-teller, and visual artist Myriam Gurba comes a brand-new collection of essays that seek to redefine what a "creep" is, via cultural criticism disguised as personal essays and seek to redefine accountability, illuminating how social groups create, strengthen, perpetuate, and protect hierarchies which ensnare, harm, and sometimes even kill the subjugated.
Myriam's new book is an essay collection entitled “Creep (and Other Essays)”, which aims to be an informal sociology of creeps. Though the term may instantly evoke images of the Harvey Weinsteins of the world-and they are by no means outside of Myriam's scope-these essays range far and wide to zero in on lesser-known and unexpected creeps like William Burroughs, Joan Didion, the criminal justice system, the public education system, and, yes, even our own publishing industry. Each essay a bullet, Myriam targets and identifies individual creeps, creepy social groups, and creepy cultures. But that's only half of the book's taxonomic project. The other half is examining how individuals, communities, and institutions challenge creeps and creepiness.
The essays in Creep-cultural criticism disguised as personal essay-seek to redefine accountability, illuminating how social groups create, strengthen, perpetuate, and protect hierarchies which ensnare, harm, and sometimes even kill the subjugated. The collection also maps oppression not as an act, but as an environment-the very water we're swimming in, the air we breathe-that unfairly distributes suffering and premature death to those minoritized by gender, sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, immigration status, age, poverty, and other exploitable differences. Of course, Myriam does it all in the distinctive campy style for which she has become known, propelled by aggressive Chicana wit and an insatiable urge to tip sacred cows.
Myriam's new book is an essay collection entitled “Creep (and Other Essays)”, which aims to be an informal sociology of creeps. Though the term may instantly evoke images of the Harvey Weinsteins of the world-and they are by no means outside of Myriam's scope-these essays range far and wide to zero in on lesser-known and unexpected creeps like William Burroughs, Joan Didion, the criminal justice system, the public education system, and, yes, even our own publishing industry. Each essay a bullet, Myriam targets and identifies individual creeps, creepy social groups, and creepy cultures. But that's only half of the book's taxonomic project. The other half is examining how individuals, communities, and institutions challenge creeps and creepiness.
The essays in Creep-cultural criticism disguised as personal essay-seek to redefine accountability, illuminating how social groups create, strengthen, perpetuate, and protect hierarchies which ensnare, harm, and sometimes even kill the subjugated. The collection also maps oppression not as an act, but as an environment-the very water we're swimming in, the air we breathe-that unfairly distributes suffering and premature death to those minoritized by gender, sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, immigration status, age, poverty, and other exploitable differences. Of course, Myriam does it all in the distinctive campy style for which she has become known, propelled by aggressive Chicana wit and an insatiable urge to tip sacred cows.