I didn't love this as much as the Autobiography of Carson McCullers, her previous book. The writing style is very similar, in that she begins with a topic and then goes down into deep research, thoughts and occasional meanders. The topics in this book are quite heavy; environmental pollution and cancer rates, the sexual violence and disappearance of indigenous women, moths, which makes it even harder to follow and keep up with. I admire her ability to do such deep dives on the topics though and I am really glad that she is able to share her thinking and that someone is caring so deeply about these various serious issues.

With thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

I was so excited to read Jenn Shapland's (of My Life in Carson McCuller's fame!) essay collection and it does not disappoint. She takes a broader perspective to a wide range of topics, including queerness, indigeneity, and colonization. I'm so glad i read this book.

Jenn Shapland continues to stun with her careful attention and empathy. A stand-out collection from 2023 for me.

This book is hard to read but no less enjoyable for it. I found myself questioning a lot of things about the world we live in, and what I’m willing to put up with, or what to risk to make things better. It’s scary to think about the environment, and it’s scary to think about our own frail bodies. The author here takes an unflinching look at both and makes it beautiful under her gaze.

I liked the writing style of this book but I wasn't really hooked. This is a mediation on health and environmental pollution. I didn't end up finishing the book as it wasn't engaging enough for me but I may go back and revisit it one day.
For people who like very literary essays, this would be a good collection for you!

essay collections are quickly becoming one of my favorite forms of non-fiction to read and this book was no exception

3.5 stars
Thin Skin is a thoughtful collection of essays that is well-situated in both its time, and its place discussing the author’s relocation to New Mexico. I liked the collection overall, and found it to be moderately well-researched. I didn’t like the self insertion victim complexy moments about it. I liked her incorporating her mother’s experience but didn’t like the obsessiveness prior to that.
In the first essay she heavily misuses the word “syndemic” and the concept of “syndemic effects”, which is a narrowly defined thing in epidemiology. She does have well-crafted sentences… e.g., “How often the cause longs to be the cure.” Some good ideas but ultimately nothing that blew my mind. The essays left me wanting to engage her in conversation, which I think is a mark of dissatisfaction—the ideas only partially fledged and proved, if they left me wanting to clarify or ask more. My favorite two essays were The Toomuchness and The Meaning of Life—the latter essay doesn’t do enough to discern itself from ecofascist ideals, so note that—but both were worthwhile and thought-provoking.

I very much enjoyed Shapland's first nonfiction book, My Autobiography of Carson McCullers. And these essays are highly intelligent, with a variety of ideas sharply considered. Using research, science, history, and personal histories, including the author's, they delve into the links between human fragility and the modern world, its toxic environments, the vulnerabilities of marginalized communities, gender considerations, consumerism, and their effects, physical and psychological and more, on the human body. However, and likely it was me, sometimes I was compelled, sometimes I found myself exhausted by it all.

Thanks to Pantheon and Netgalley for the ARC.

A collection of 5 Essays written by a White, Queer Woman. At first I thought it was just going to be about advocating for Native Americans and exposing the pollution and high cancer rates in New Mexico ( because it takes a White voice for anyone to listen), but then it just dissolves into a pity party. She acknowledges her privilege and how she has used it over the years but then it becomes woe is me, I dont want to have kids, boo capitalism, and self help is trash. I've never read anything quite like this nor have I read any of her other work. Like she said- to be able to write-to have the time and space- is a privilege and self serving. Not my cup of tea, but I congratulate anyone who is able to put in the work and get published.

This book has blown me away. Jenn Shapland is an artist the way she was able to seamlessly weave these essays with personal history, science, culture, and so many sources. I haven’t been able to shut up about this book and have been trying to get everyone I know to read it.

I’ve come away from these essays feeling both strengthened and provoked. I may not always agree with Shapland—how would I, a Black, southern African, Gen X woman?—but even when I don’t, she manages to persuade me to see where she’s coming from, to provoke me to think about why I think the things I do; which, surely, is the mark of a great essayist. And that’s when I’m not startled by her clarity of expression when I do agree with her, when she puts into words some of my semi-formed glimmerings.

The self. Family. Queerness. Motherhood, womanhood, pregnancy. Capitalism. The poisoning of our biosphere; nuclear testing. Native land rights, and settler colonialism. Her own complicity in this, in her move to New Mexico, in her participation in “woo” that sometimes draws on Native or Indigenous knowledge while excluding Native and Indigenous people. Being a daughter; and, briefly, the grief of losing her mother. Love. Multispecies families. Race. Connection. The pandemic. Consumerism. Witches. In [five] essays, Shapland uses her mind as a precision blade, a laser cutter to explore all of these topics and more.

I took my time over it (and highlighted so many lines), but Thin Skin is compelling reading. I’m grateful for the choices Shapland made (described in the book) that led to her ability to carve out the time to think on all of these things. I am, and every reader of Thin Skin is, the richer for it.

Thank you to NetGalley and to Pantheon for this ARC.

"Thin Skin" is a collection of essays that blends research, history, current events, and the author's own personal experiences about a myriad of topics: chronic illness, toxicity and pollution, fear, sexuality, minimalism and excess, fast fashion, productivity, etc. The first essay, "Thin Skin," talks about nuclear waste in the author's current home state of New Mexico, which was jarring and eye-opening to read after recently watching the movie "Oppenheimer." I also enjoyed the essay titled "Toomuchness," in which Shapland discusses how we all have so much stuff in our lives, both physically and emotionally/energetically.

Shapland is an excellent writer. These essays are sharp, thoughtful, and carefully crafted. I think fans of John Green's "The Anthropocene Reviewed" and Lucy Ellmann's "Ducks, Newburyport" would enjoy this collection.

4.5 stars. Thank you to Net Galley and Pantheon for the ARC in exchange for my honest review. This beautiful collection of essays starts with Thin Skin, referring to the thin barrier of her skin to the toxic environment in New Mexico due to nuclear testing but also how this thin barrier is to many things in the world. The author does a skillful job of weaving the idea of capitalism and how it seeps in the land and homes, our own skin, and the way we think and live based on consumerism and objectification of everything in life. Even though we'd like to think that we live our lives in our own very personal worlds, these choices have rippling effects out that effect the entire globe. These essays are based on personal experiences as well as much research and interviews. I especially enjoyed the last essays talking about the choices we should be able to make about our own (women's) bodies, abortion, queerness, Rachel Carson and owning property/land. Highly recommended.

This collection of essays by Jenn Shapland covers a wide breadth of topics but I particularly enjoyed the last one discussing compulsory motherhood and the desire for being childfree. I enjoyed reading this book slowly over the course of a month + and appreciated savoring it. Would recommend.

Thank you to Netgalley for an ARC.

Thin Skin is an essay collection that weaves together the personal and political. From topics like the legacy of nuclear weapons development on Native land to the struggle of choosing to become a parent or not. I would highly recommend this to anyone who enjoys essay collections or literary nonfiction.

The essays are captivating, language rich, thoughtfully researched-- a joy and delight to read and discover them. The evocation of place through clear and specific detail and story is remarkable.

We are taught to fear others and to live like and be like everyone else while at the same time we are taught to not fear chemical and radioactive contamination which is killing people. Usually, we will offload that contamination to those mainly disregarded by society - poor people of color and indigenous people.

People with wombs have been taught to be "less than" - to make ourselves invisible as much as possible, to use less, to be less, throughout history. She goes into the worker shortage which caused the end of feudalism - leading into the age of enlightenment - and how there was push-back from those in power to make more babies - and to do it without midwives, but rather using a (male) physician and later a hospital. Anyone who did not go along with this was outcast - along with the herbalists and midwives, and at risk for an accusation of being a witch - done to terrorize women.

We are defined by our work. Work is not supposed to be fun! It is supposed to be drudgery! The epitome of this is slavery - someone having status by literally owning another person - but it's the same if someone owns you 8 hours a day - or requires you to immediately answer all texts at all times.

Whether you are talking about those living a minimalist lifestyle, a very religious person eagerly awaiting an apocalypse, or a prepper waiting in their bunker for a different type of apocalypse, or someone seeking to make a smaller footprint by recycling everything - even if much recycled material ends up in landfills - somewhere else - is an attempt for "forgiveness" for being alive during late-stage capitalism.

Thin Skin by Jenn Shapland covers a lot of ground.

The five sections of the book evaluate a wide range of themes with a journalistic-like lens. Shapland’s prose mines the minutiae of insidious chemical warfare, ecological consciousness, the psyche of privilege, fear, motherhood, the self & the meaning of existence.

I found myself wanting to pluck quotes from many of these essays and share them with friends & loved ones. Shapland's writing felt intimate and propulsive. There is stellar literary integrity throughout Thin Skin and I imagine each reader will find a home in at least one essay. Sincere thanks to @pantheonbooks & @netgalley for this galley.

4.5**
The writing in these essays is phenomenal. I appreciate the look at how our lives affect others, in ways that are both obvious and not-so-obvious. Even in a time where humanity as a whole seems less connected than we have been in the past, these essays show how connected we actually are. Highly, highly recommend, and will be writing a more succinct review closer to pub date.

While these are well written essays, the first adjective I would use to describe them is heavy. I feel that I learned something from each of them, but ultimately felt beat up about my moral decisions, leading me to put the book down and struggling to finish. I wish she had started with a lighter one up front.