Review: "The Last House on the Block" by Sharon Cornelissen

The Last House on the Block by Sharon Cornelissen
Published November 2025 via University of Chicago Press
★★★★

For a time, Detroit was a bustling metropolis—but changes in industry and the rise of the rust belt took Detroit tumbling into decline and then into freefall. Cornelissen, a sociologist and expert on housing, took her research to Detroit, first renting and then buying a house (planning, always, to eventually move away again) and turning her time into this ethnographic look at what life in Detroit is like now: newcomers and long-term residents; the battle between those who would see the neighborhood gentrified and those who delight in the urban blight and opportunities for urban farming; the daily struggle of people who cannot afford to live in Detroit and yet cannot afford to leave.

I've read a handful of memoirs by people who bought houses in Detroit at the height of the depopulation crisis. Usually I am less interested in city story and more interested in house restoration story (vicarious thrills and all that), but this is clearly a city story, or rather a neighborhood story. When Cornelissen bought her own Detroit house, it was a matter of practicality (one, because it was cheaper than renting; two, because doing so allowed her to embed herself into the environment more thoroughly and in some ways neutrally); her real interest was the neighborhood. Like any good ethnographer, she carefully considers the implications of her involvement in the community, and in Detroit that means things like: Yes, the house is cheap, but so often buying it means that somebody else will be displaced, or has just been displaced. Or: Yes, the house is cheap, but no matter how many hundreds or thousands or tens of thousands of dollars you put into it (to make necessary repairs or cosmetic improvements, say, or to put on a new roof, or to update a kitchen that hasn't been touched in decades), the house value might not increase. (Okay, the latter was less a concern for an ethnographer not looking to make money on her eventual house sale, but it's fascinating to consider.)

Along the way Cornelissen considers the different roles of the people in her chosen neighborhood of Brightmoor—the longtimers who experienced Detroit's decline first-hand and, often, just want a return to urbanity and the resources that come with that; the newcomers, some having purchased their homes and some squatting, determined that now that the population density has gone down it should not go up again; the precariously housed, living in houses that are or should be condemned or houses that they live in only informally and can be sold out from under them; the people who own one or more houses in Detroit but have nothing—including the houses—of financial value.

I would prefer to get more into Cornelissen's research here, but I had to read the book on my phone, which made taking notes difficult, so...you'll have to read the book yourself for more details. I will say that some of the small ins and outs were things I never would have considered—people walking in the streets rather than the sidewalks because the uncut grass of vacant lots grew so tall that it impeded sight lines; what neighborhood safety means when the locals know full well that if the police respond to their calls at all, it will be too late; what the value of a house means when it cannot be mortgaged or (often) insured. It's a really interesting, nuanced look at a community, and sometimes more to the point at several uneasily coexisting subcommunities.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.