This is an interesting one. I've come to Nelson's writing via Bluets and The Red Parts, both of which are very different to these essays/conversations/reviews. I love essays, but more along the personal line, where the intellect is leavened by moments of real life. This collection is both highly intellectual, and a kind of ragbag of writing, a gathering of bits and pieces which lacked the coherent sense of a whole. I wasn't convinced by the transcriptions of email exchanges, which felt lazy, padding out the material, and also very much like two people showing off how very clever they were. The reviews and explorations of art required background knowledge: I'm sure they'd be really fruitful for an academic in the field, but for a more casual reader the denseness of the criticism and the need to know what is being talked about in more detail felt exclusionary. This volume may work better as a physical book - I found it particularly hard to dip in and out without a contents list and the lack of any sense of where one essay ended and the next began. One for Nelson completists and art nerds but way over this (averagely intelligent) reader's head.

The concept behind Like Love is wonderful: a collection of essays and conversations exploring the almost symbiotic relationship between art and artists. And some of these pieces capture that perfectly: transcending the particular moment they were written in and saying something special about art.

Unfortunately, many of these essays don't quite work in this context: they rely on too much prior knowledge of the particular art or artists Nelson discusses so that outside of their original context they feel alienating and even a little elitist. It's a shame, becauses Nelson is a magestic writer, but I felt the collection could have been more carefully curated to appeal to a wider audience.

I was very kindly offered the opportunity of reading an advanced copy of Like Love by the publisher through Netgalley. I had never read a book by Maggie Nelson but recognized her from some essays and book reviews so I jumped at the chance. Another point I must make before actually reviewing the book is that this comes from someone who does not know some of the people or art referenced in a lot of the texts.
Like Love is an anthology of many of Maggie Nelson's essays and conversations with people from the world of art. I don't think there was one I didn't find at least interesting or informative, even those whose original subject I didn't previously know of, because the ideas brought forth are always relevant and understandable. Maggie Nelson seems to be not only very knowledgeable and cultured, but also a good conversationalist and quite capable of commenting and cross-referencing while keeping it clear.
Out of all the pieces, I'd highlight:
"Almost There" on Eve Sedgwick's The Weather in Proust - which left me convinced I'd get a lot out of reading Sedgwick, be it for her work on queer theory, be it for her compassion and generosity that Nelson focuses on by the end;
"Beyond All Change" On Ben Lerner's 10:04 - which sent this and two other of his books to my wishlist;
"From Importunate to Meretricious, With Love" - a conversation with Brian Blanchfield that gives a great insight into Nelson's thought and writing processes;
"If I Didn't Tell It" On Zackary Drucker and Rhys Ernst's Relationship - including relevant thoughts on gender, sexuality and self-perspective;
"A Life, A Face, A Gaze" - a conversation with Moyra Davey that explores the concept of shame and relates it to Karl Ove Knausgaard's works in such a poignant way;
"Like Love" - a tribute to Hilton Als;
"A Continuity, Imagined" - a conversation (at once personal and eulogistic, serious and humoristic) with Björk that left a smile on my face as I read it;
"At Girò's" - on rereading Natalia Ginzburg's Winter in the Abruzzi at the start of a pandemic;
"The Longest Road" - a conversation with Jacqueline Rose that starts with Sylvia Plath, goes through Me Too, trans-exclusionary radical feminism, resurgent fascism, hyperalertness, and how to live and write in today's world;
"This Living Hand, Or, My Hervé Guibert" - which left me feeling I must read To the Friend Who Did Not Save My Life;
"I Just Want to Know What Else Might Be Available" - a conversation with Simone White going from sex and morality to the ethics of care and finally shame;
"My Brilliant Friend" - On Lhasa de Sela and one of the most complex elegiac texts I ever read;
"The Call" In Honour of Judith Butler - a revisitation and highlighting of a thinker who has a profound insight into the times she lives in;
"For Who Knows How Long" - on Ari Marcopoulos's Zines;
"And With Trees" - a conversation with Eileen Myles that left me in awe, which was a great way to finish the book.
All of this being said, I'm left with a very important question: which of Maggie Nelson's books should I read now?

Nelson's writing is strong as ever, shot with feeling and humour. I found the collection very varied, which is at once good and bad. I found some of the poets, artists and writers she was talking about quite niche (for me, anyway), and therefore my interest waned compared to when she was discussing something I am familiar with. Her ruminations on poetry and writing, in general though, were lovely.

Like Love by Maggie Nelson thoroughly explores different ways of looking at various forms of art and culture.

This selection of short non-fiction by writer, poet and academic Maggie Nelson spans close to twenty years of her career. In comparison with The Argonauts her radically-reconfigured memoir whose form partly mirrored momentous shifts in Nelson’s own life, these short pieces may seem disparate or oddly jumbled together. But Nelson’s seemingly effortless mingling of the personal and more analytical enables the opening of a pathway through, so that entries here combine to form a map or geography of Nelson’s experiences, her shifting priorities and enduring preoccupations: from queer culture to art to parenting to the place of poetry. Entries range from transcripts of discussions, musings, email exchanges and more formal essays; represented here are many of the writers, artists and creators who’ve shaped Nelson’s perceptions of the world around her, often producers of work that stirs memories and observations about her personal history. Figures who, in myriad ways, guided her through a contemporary existence overshadowed by conflict and ongoing climate change - what Nelson characterises as living in a state of ‘exhilarated despair.’

Nelson’s writing can be dense and demanding, sometimes it’s provocative to the point of courting controversy. But it can also be intimate and accessible. There are some impressive entries here from reflections on the work of Alice Notley, Ben Lerner, and Eileen Myles to responses to Drucker and Ernst’s “Relationship Series” documents of their time together during the process of gender transition. Nelson’s gaze takes in the legacy of feminist performance artists starting with Carolee Schneemann’s ground-breaking practice. She includes reflections on Darcy Steinke, Judith Butler, Fred Moten, artist Sarah Lucas, Bjork, and authors such as Natalia Ginzburg – the last in an especially poignant meditation on loss, isolation and the recent pandemic. Like any collection there were pieces here that worked better than others, at least for me. I didn’t always side with Nelson’s perspective but I admired her process. And I really responded to a number of elements: Nelson’s thoughts on condemnation and shaming; the rhetoric of policing that shuts down possibility or limits the space to talk about certain forms of desire.

If you, like me, got excited at the prospect of a new Maggie Nelson book, I feel obliged to temper your expectations. ‘Like Love’ is a collection of Nelson’s previously published essays, profiles, conversations, and interviews. I still enjoyed reading it. However, Nelson’s work spans 20+ years, so ‘Like Love’ is a bit hit-and-miss in a way that essays written to be part of the same collection from the outset aren’t.

Really enjoyed this (though the kindle layout made for difficult reading for me, not a fault of the book, but I think a physical copy would be easier to keep track in!)

While I am not new to Nelson’s work, this is the first of her books I have read. ‘Like, Love’ is a collection of conversations and essays that discuss a myriad of subjects. From Art Criticism to Bataille, the reader is presented with heavy academic discussions.

This is why I believe this collection could benefit from a bit of direction. It was incredibly dense, and a lot of context is missing. ‘Like, Love’ feels cherry-picked, and while there was a lot to chew on, it could have been separated into sections. I would encourage readers to read this sparingly. For a short book, it felt a 1,000 pages too long.

This is not to say that anyone should dumb down these riveting conversations, but the vital insights get lost in the sheer amount of text contained within it. I understand that Bluets and The Argonauts had some semblance of direction, and this is what I feel this book really needed.

On the other hand, I really enjoyed some of these discussions. They urged me to pick up books I had previously been eyeing up. I also have more films to watch thanks to Nelson. I am a huge fan of Georges Bataille, so to read the discussion about some of his work was fascinating.

Additionally, the title essay was like brain food. The incorporation of various philosophers amplified points, and added a different lens to what could often be a biased view.

Concluding, I am more likely to recommend Nelson’s other works than this one, but this book is for anyone who is interested in enriching their knowledge. You will come out of this collection having learned something new.

I don't always understand Maggie Nelson's writing but I always find something in what she writes that is richly rewarding of my time and patience and thought. This is a series of essays and conversations with other authors, writers, makers and artists that give a different perspective or 'in' to another world and way of seeing. I really enjoyed the conversations with artists, in particular the essay about going to visit Carolee Schneeman and Schneeman's thoughts about her artistic career. Subversive, thoughtful, strange and clever. I really enjoyed this.

As a fan of Maggie Nelson's writing, I was excited to pick this up. Parts of it were insightful and intriguing, others I found challenging. In particular, I didn't have context for some of the art in discussion. So while I'm always happy to hear Nelson's thoughts, I didn't always feel brought into the conversation. Nevertheless she's an always intriguing cultural commentator and I enjoyed this collection.

Nelson is a must-read author for me. I have enjoyed many of her books immensely and am working my way through the rest of her expansive catalogue. Her essays on art, history and culture are incredible, synthesizing a variety of references and viewpoints into a kaleidoscopic panorama of our moment in time. This collection presents a smattering of such works, being a perfect entry for a new reader of Nelson's work.

Have had to put this one down about halfway through. I enjoyed 'Argonauts' so requested this with that in mind, however I don't think I'm the correct audience for this. I didn't really enjoy reading reviews of books I haven't read or of art shows I'm unable to visualise. I am also not a huge fan of the 'conversations' between the author and other artists, I didn't really get much out of them. This might be a good read for a Maggie Nelson superfan or someone who more regularly reads intellectual and academic texts or has an interest in art criticism, but ultimately not for me.

Why do we read collections of essays? All kinds of reasons but probably because we have got some out of previous books by the author, because we want to find things out, and because we want pointers to other books, writers and leads to follow up. Maggie Nelson's collection of essays and conversations does all of these things and has some great lines: "I’ve been reading Schopenhauer, who is completely hilarious and, for some reason, more heartening to me than anybody even vaguely uplifting". She writes as well as art as anyone and, most importantly, manages to combine balance and passion in a way that few others can. The conversations - with key influences like Eileen Myles, Jacqueline Rose, and Wayne Kostenbaum - are fascinating too (although the exchange with Björk doesn't live up to its promise). I was entertained and learned a lot - what more could anyone want?