Alan Ackmann

Fast Food Nation

I don’t usually focus on non-fiction, just like I don’t usually mention million-seller books. But Fast Food Nation, by Eric Schlosser, warrants an exception. Part of this posting is sentimental—my wife and I resolved to read more books together, and this is the first we’ve completed—but it is also out of respect for a well-crafted piece of literature, which I’ve been curious about since teaching an excerpted chapter (“Why the Fries Taste Good”) for freshman composition at Arkansas. That chapter was a lighthearted romp around the New Jersey flavor industry, which fast food requires since freeze-drying destroys its natural flavor. The chapter’s relative escapism implied that its parent text would be similarly toned. Fast Food Nation, however, is a scathing critique of fast food’s impact on landscapes, property values, cinema marketing, politics, human rights, and cultural imperialism (to name only a few aspects), and Schlosser’s portrayal is honest and horrifying in sometimes unexpected places.

For example, the poll describing how Chinese grade-schoolers love Ronald McDonald because (to use the kid’s words) “he understands what’s in children’s hearts” was almost as disquieting as the bloody description of America’s slaughterhouses, many of which, Schlosser claims, exploit a poorly educated, frequently illiterate workforce with the same boldness that they flaunt health and safety codes. Schlosser has an axe to grind—and grinds it well.

That isolated chapter, however, also did not reflect the rhetorical sophistication of Schlosser’s argument. His opening chapters recount the infancy of fast food, evoking car hops and bubblegum, when fast food was novel and joyous. He then describes how fast food targets children, so readers remember how much they loved Happy Meals, sparking tremendous affection that Schlosser then manipulates. The scope of his anger sneaks up gradually, so by the end of the book, when he describes how fast food populates all corners of the globe, the reader is seething along with Schlosser, begging other countries to maintain their own identity (“Pick up your Schnitzel, little German!”, I wanted to scream) instead of settling for the quick and easy choice. Beyond this, the book is engaging on a sentence level, with marvelously well-turned phrases and conceptual transitions throughout.

It’s also, apparently, effective. With my good metabolism and shaky impulse control, I’ve always had a weakness for fast food. Since finishing this book, however, I haven’t eaten at a fast food restaurant once (as of this writing). This isn’t a conscious choice; I simply haven’t wanted it. That’s powerful writing.

Posted by Alan Ackmann - Apr 9, 11:09 AM.
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