Overall enjoyed this essay collection and thought Morgan Parker did a nice job of intertwining the personal with the sociopolitical. Topics r3.5 stars
Overall enjoyed this essay collection and thought Morgan Parker did a nice job of intertwining the personal with the sociopolitical. Topics range from Black representation in media to romantic loneliness as a Black woman in her 30s to people who defend Bill Cosby. I found Parker’s writing astute and perceptive and I appreciated the honest, non-cliched way she emphasized therapy and mental health in this collection. There were times where I wished she went a bit deeper or got more specific, like when she referenced her “uncomfortably abundant number of white friends” or when she wrote about romantic loneliness without interrogating amatonormativity or romantic monogamy culture in general. Still, a thoughtful essay collection from a writer confronting misogynoir and imagining a more just world than the one we live in now....more
I really liked this book and so appreciate Lyz Lenz for writing honestly about her divorce and not putting up with men’s bs! I thought she did an overI really liked this book and so appreciate Lyz Lenz for writing honestly about her divorce and not putting up with men’s bs! I thought she did an overall effective job of integrating memoir (e.g., story of her own marriage and divorce) with social commentary and reporting related to heterosexual marriage and divorce more broadly. At the age of 29 I’m getting so inundated with social media posts about weddings, which I don’t care too much about because I don’t want to get married/disavow the whole wedding industrial complex, though it does strike me as ironic/problematic that people don’t nearly talk as often about divorces as much as weddings. Lenz blazes through any divorce stigma in this book and writes with candor about divorce’s benefits, despite the annoying parts of the divorce process, especially for women who aren’t getting what they want/need from marriage.
A few things that stood out to me in a positive way when I read this book: loved how Lenz takes a firm stand on the patriarchal nature of women taking men’s last names in marriage. So important to critique choice feminism. This section of the book reminded me of one of my favorite academic mentors and how her children (or at least one of them) took her last name instead of her husband’s last name. Iconic! I also liked how Lenz wrote about how men who identify as “liberal” or as “feminists” can still treat women horribly; I’ve noticed this within the gay male community too about men who identify with social justice causes yet are racist or femmephobic or perpetuate other forms of oppression. It’s easy to self-identify as someone who is in favor of equity or social progress, though you have to actually look at someone’s behavior, not just what they say. Finally, I’m glad she ended the book on the note of chosen community and prioritizing friendships and relationships outside of the heteronormative nuclear mold.
Reading this book was interesting because it paired kinda nicely with Splinters by Leslie Jamison which I read earlier this year, though the books are very different. I felt Jamison’s book emphasized the emotional grooves of her divorce but lacked more direct and necessary political commentary, whereas Lenz’s book does a way better job of discussing the sociopolitical underpinnings of marriage and divorce. I don’t think this book is perfect – some of its organization and structure felt a bit choppy and the writing didn’t always wow me. However, I definitely enjoyed it enough to give it four stars and hope it helps continue the conversation about finding happiness outside of romantic relationships with men....more
This book wrecked me in the best possible way. In Here After, Amy Lin writes about her husband’s death at the tragic age of 32, their relationship befThis book wrecked me in the best possible way. In Here After, Amy Lin writes about her husband’s death at the tragic age of 32, their relationship before and her journey into grief afterward. She captures scenes and emotions so well, writing about the moments she and Kurtis shared together throughout their relationship, to when she learned about his death, to the pain-ridden moments that comprised her existence following his passing. By page 29 I already felt sucker punched in the stomach and a couple of passages had already made me tear up. She writes in a short vignette style and her ability to render specific memories of their relationship, like little slices of conversation, tore my heart up. Some may describe her writing as choppy though I think it worked in this memoir and represented the consciousness of someone going through an awful, raw, real tragedy. She depicted Kurtis’s loving and larger-than-life personality so well; I felt like I got a real sense of him as a person.
One of my favorite elements of this memoir was how Lin asserted her right to be sad. With grief, sometimes the aftermath is just horrible and painful and morose. You don’t need to try to make it happy or put a positive spin on it. A tragedy can be a tragedy and it’s important to make space for those feelings.
I also appreciated Lin’s honesty throughout Here After. I liked her candid self-characterization as the more prickly or “petty” romantic partner compared to Kurtis. She writes about her own insecurities in their relationship and how she feared him leaving her, which I think takes guts to put on the page. She’s real about many parts of the grieving process, such as how after Kurtis’s death she spent time with one of his closest friends, and then this friend ghosted her with no explanation.
In sum, I absolutely loved this. Reading Here After, I felt immersed in Lin’s emotional landscape while also feeling compassion for the tragedies and losses I’ve experienced in my own life. Great representation of an Asian couple though of course it's so freaking tragic. A stunner of a debut....more
Great essay collection by a writer ahead of her time. Appreciated June Jordan’s courage in sharing both her forward political thinking (e.g., her pro-Great essay collection by a writer ahead of her time. Appreciated June Jordan’s courage in sharing both her forward political thinking (e.g., her pro-Palestine and anti-Zionist beliefs, her ideals for Black women’s liberation while also critiquing representation politics) and her personal experiences related to matters such as breast cancer and sexual assault. While some of her takes may not come across as new to those who read a lot of Black feminist texts, there’s a conviction, full-spiritedness, and progressive politic in Jordan’s writing that is still admirable and enjoyable....more
I loved this book despite its imperfections. It contains powerful writing from Sloane Crosley about her grief process after one of her closes4.5 stars
I loved this book despite its imperfections. It contains powerful writing from Sloane Crosley about her grief process after one of her closest friends died by suicide. There’s so much sad honesty in these pages, about missing her friend, feeling angry at the world, about time passing and your person still being gone. I liked that she shines a spotlight on grieving a close friend given that grief in media is often portrayed centering a nuclear family member or romantic partner. Crosley’s prose overall impressed me – from the first page she jumps right into the action and I was hooked until the very end. I read this whole book in one afternoon.
There were a few passages in this book that took it to the five-star level for me, passages that captured grief in such a poignant and real way. There’s one passage about grief being like holding a vase and not having anywhere to put it down that made me cry. And the last few pages made me bawl. I loved these parts of the book and they felt so affirming to me in my own grief processes, that sometimes grief just is and you have to find a way to keep living even with the pain.
I want to be honest about what I perceive as some of the book’s faults, a minor one and then a more major one. First, I think at times Crosley’s prose read as a bit intellectualized to me, when she could’ve added even more detail about the friendship or her or her friend’s background. Second, I took some issue with how she wrote about Russell’s problematic behavior. I do think it’s important that she named the parts of her friend that weren’t ideal or that were problematic; I love not idealizing people who’ve passed away. Yet, some of her writing about his problematic behavior almost came across as making excuses for it. There’s one passage where she writes about the younger generation wanting to engage in activism and sublimating that desire through calling out their problematic bosses and I was like… uh people can both address structural inequality through broader actions and also call out harassment in the workplace? Basically, I feel she could’ve more directly just owned the fact that her friend engaged in problematic/harassing behavior instead of, in my view, dancing around it or overwriting about it. This could’ve even led to deeper exploration of what it’s like for privileged people (because her friend was a white man) to lose power or to get called out for harmful things they used to not get called out for.
Anyway, despite my quibbles about Grief is for People I loved the book and was deeply moved by it. Grief is so important to me personally and professionally and I’m heartened by this book’s addition to the grief canon....more
Interesting meditations from a Native American memoirist and writer about retaining one’s heritage culture while facing pressures to assimilate to theInteresting meditations from a Native American memoirist and writer about retaining one’s heritage culture while facing pressures to assimilate to the dominant group. Deborah Jackson Taffa writes with unfiltered honesty about the sometimes complicated and sometimes simple dynamics of her family, the white supremacist violence faced by members of the Native community, and her own coming of age amidst different cultural and social factors. While the writing in this memoir sometimes felt a bit slow or uneven to me, I recognize this book’s importance within the broader literary canon....more
I really liked the emotional honesty in this book. Susan Lieu writes about how at 13 years old, her mother passed away after a botched plastic surgeryI really liked the emotional honesty in this book. Susan Lieu writes about how at 13 years old, her mother passed away after a botched plastic surgery procedure. Lieu is real about her grief and all the dysfunctional (e.g., joining a cult) and more functional (e.g., learning about her parents’ refuge stories and lives in Vietnam) ways she coped with her loss and her intergenerational trauma. Throughout the memoir Lieu incorporates interesting and nuanced themes related to body image, emotional and physical abuse, and learning how to love yourself and where you come from. It’s absolutely wild and sickening that a white male plastic surgeon was profiting off vulnerable Vietnamese women’s body image insecurities, and Lieu is courageous for writing about her and her mother’s story. As a side note, I enjoyed reading about her and her Korean husband and how she called out a commercial she auditioned for that was forcing the Asian woman/white man trope.
I did find the writing quality a bit uneven throughout the memoir and could see Lieu’s experience as a performer come through, in that this may have been adapted from her show. I also didn’t love her comment about how getting married to a Korean person is like marrying up or dating up within the Asian community. I know she might have meant it as a joke or as a jab toward her own internalized stuff, but I do think there is bias toward East Asians (e.g., they often have lighter skin) within the Asian American community and I don’t love when fellow Southeast Asians perpetuate this without at least a bit more rebuttal. Still, I appreciated the unapologetic Vietnamese-ness of this memoir and am glad that Lieu put her story out into the world....more
Concise and thoughtful graphic memoir by a queer biracial woman who’s diagnosed with breast cancer at age 25. I appreciated Kimiko Tobimatsu’s honestyConcise and thoughtful graphic memoir by a queer biracial woman who’s diagnosed with breast cancer at age 25. I appreciated Kimiko Tobimatsu’s honesty in this memoir, writing about meaningful and important topics such as not forcing people to think about the positive and instead giving them space to honor their sadness, how cancer recovery narratives often center white straight people, and how physical, mental, and relational health intersect with one another. The combination of illustrations and her narrative helped provide a sense of realness to how Tobimatsu coped with her illness in her day-to-day life. I hope this book will augment the empathy people have for those struggling with cancer and related conditions, especially people who aren’t often highlighted in these narratives.
The concision of this graphic novel was an interesting strength and maybe drawback? I wanted a little more self-reflection about, for example, the role of race or being mixed race and how that affected Tobimatsu’s experience. Especially how racial dynamics intersected with gender dynamics within her family to influence communication. However, I recognize she may have wanted to keep it short and sweet on purpose. I’m curious what my Philly book club will think of this one....more
I have mixed feelings about this book because while I agree with the author on a lot of what she talks about and sense that we are very compa3.5 stars
I have mixed feelings about this book because while I agree with the author on a lot of what she talks about and sense that we are very compatible politically, the writing in Thin Skin felt heavy and dry to me. I liked that Jenn Shapland wrote about how environmental degradation affects our health, the pressures of capitalism and work and what it means to live a meaningful life, and the notion of being sensitive and having thin skin. I really resonated with her last essay about not wanting kids and the anger and sadness that comes with living in a world that glorifies having children for women and femmes – loved how she ended that essay on a note of community and friendship.
Unfortunately, though, for the most part I did find these essays a bit laborious to comb through. Sometimes they felt a bit too abstract and not grounded enough in scene. Again, Shapland is smart and I think she’d be a cool person to hang out with, but the writing itself in this essay collection didn’t wow me....more
Lots of great writing in this one. Brace for Impact reminded me a lot of I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy, though in a quieter and queererLots of great writing in this one. Brace for Impact reminded me a lot of I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy, though in a quieter and queerer way. In this memoir, Gabe Montesanti shares her journey of finding an empowering queer community in her roller derby team in St. Louis. Concurrently, she writes about her relationship with her family of origin, especially her mother, who’s critical of Gabe in so many ways – of her body, of her queerness, and of her vulnerability.
I liked the honesty in which Montesanti wrote about her tumultuous relationship with her mother. I think there’s still stigma related to sharing about abusive parents; Montesanti plows right through that stigma and is real about the messy parts of her emotional arc, such as when she still wanted her mother’s approval or care. I also deeply appreciated Montesanti’s writing about finding queer community and in a way, chosen family. Though she writes about her wife Kelly a fair amount, it’s clear after reading this that Montesanti values connections outside of heteronormative romance and the nuclear family, which I resonate with.
Overall, props to Montesanti for a moving memoir. The prose isn’t flashy, and its earnestness made her story feel down-to-earth and solid. Toward the end there were moments where I wanted even more internal exploration and reflection on how her relationship with her mother – and where it stood at toward the end of the memoir – affected her, though perhaps that will be for a future memoir.
For the sake of transparency, I actually know Montesanti loosely. We actually met when she I think was in between her first and second year of her MFA program; I was an undergraduate who was doing a brief summer program at her grad program’s campus. We’ve been friends on social media since then and she’s been nothing but lovely, warm, and supportive of my various updates. I’m glad I got around to reading this and I wish her the best....more
Some mixed feelings about this book but giving it four stars from a place of good will. The positives: I thought Izzeldin Abuelaish did a great job ofSome mixed feelings about this book but giving it four stars from a place of good will. The positives: I thought Izzeldin Abuelaish did a great job of writing about the devastation he and his family experienced at the hands of the Israeli occupation of Palestine. More specifically, three of his daughters and his niece were killed by an Israeli shelling. Just so heartbreaking and awful. It was wild to see how some Israeli individuals used certain justifications (e.g., your home where your daughters were killed was hiding members of Hamas) in response to his daughters’ deaths, the EXACT same justifications people are using to defend the horrific genocide of Palestinian people occurring right now at the hands of Zionists.
I also appreciated the honesty in which he wrote about how parents who face discrimination can lash out at their kids. It’s of course not a justification for how marginalized parents can mistreat their children, but I think it’s important to name this as a relational dynamic within families who face systemic oppression.
I’m going to reference Raheleh Abbasinejad’s review for why I had some issues with this book. I agree with Raheleh that it seemed like Izzeldin would at times minimize the reactions of Palestinians to their own oppression. He had a very “Palestinians and Israelis just need to listen to one another” and “it does no good to hate your oppressor” attitude which felt a bit patronizing. I know this isn’t the same thing, but as someone who’s faced abuse from people in power at different points of my life, it would anger me if someone were to say something like “Thomas you just need to listen to your abuser and not hate them so we can all move forward.” Within the context of race relations in the United States (which, again, I know we can’t draw an exact parallel) it reminds me of people who get mad when people of color, particularly Black individuals, are angry and hostile in reaction to their oppression – which I think they have every right to be. In relation to this point, I found it odd at times that Izzeldin would quote Martin Luthor King Jr., but would use his quotes in a way to back up his own points instead of adhering more closely to King’s criticism of white liberals, for example.
Anyway, clearly this author has suffered a lot, and this book’s existence does shed light on how Palestinians have been oppressed by Israel for a long time. On the sentence level I found the book well-written and easy to get through even though the content was brutal. I would perhaps recommend it to those who want to educate themselves about the ongoing genocide occurring in Palestine, while cautioning readers to take into accounts the critiques raised in the prior paragraph....more
Joseph Earl Thomas writes about experiencing a lot of intense things as a young Black boy growing up in the Philadelphia area – toxic masculinity fromJoseph Earl Thomas writes about experiencing a lot of intense things as a young Black boy growing up in the Philadelphia area – toxic masculinity from family members of all genders, domestic violence, bullying, and more. In the first half of this memoir especially, he captures the bewilderment of his childhood self as he faces extreme events in life, like witnessing drug use/addiction in his family. There’s a rawness to Sink that I think may appeal to some readers.
I didn’t love the choice to use third person in this book. I think the third person sets this book apart from other memoirs, though it created a sense of something like distance for me. I also wasn’t sure whether the different vignettes really came together by the end of the memoir. The book jacket references building community and love on your own terms and the Goodreads description references finding refuge in geek culture, though those elements didn’t emerge as strongly as I wish they had. Still, perhaps consider checking it out if the synopsis intrigues you....more
A powerful, somewhat uneven memoir with some sections that absolutely gutted me. In They Called Us Exceptional, Prachi Gupta writes about growing up iA powerful, somewhat uneven memoir with some sections that absolutely gutted me. In They Called Us Exceptional, Prachi Gupta writes about growing up in an Indian American family that some would describe as the American ideal: a doctor father, a nurturing mother, and two high-achieving children. Underneath this veneer though lies a family simmering with conflict and painful unaddressed wounds. Gupta details her journey of breaking free from the cycles of violence plaguing her family and dissects the cost of “achieving” what may appear as the American success story.
I found the first 100 pages or so of this book okay, somewhere between three and four stars. Gupta does a nice job of detailing her childhood and naming some sociocultural complexities: her father’s patriarchal violence, the racism that everyone including in her family including her father experienced, and her desire to figure out what she wants for herself. Gupta’s tone felt a bit formal for me in this first half or so of the memoir and even throughout the book. I can see why she chose to write in the second person but I felt that that created some emotional distance or dilution in the prose.
However, something happens around the 125-page mark and onward that wrecked me. I won’t spoil it so all I’ll say is that Gupta’s writing about her relationship with her brother *gutted* me. I read this book on a plane and I was holding back tears in several parts of the second half of the book. I think Gupta wrote a successful essay about her brother that got some attention which then led to this book, and I can see why that essay was successful. Gupta’s writing about her brother felt both sophisticated and deeply emotionally resonant. Honoring the complexities of how Asian American men and Indian American men in this case are dehumanized and made to feel inferior in the United States. While at the same time writing honestly about her brother’s faults and shortcomings, the pain and power of setting boundaries with him, and the deep love between the two of them born out of shared experience and tenderness. Her writing about him and their relationship and her feelings about him floored me. I’m typing this review in the Atlanta airport listening to “Ghost in the Machine” by SZA and staring into space, a heartbroken mess!
Despite how some of the writing, especially the use of the second person, felt dry, Gupta accomplishes a lot in this memoir: breaking down the model minority myth, detailing her journey to know more about her own culture and come into her unique feminist voice, sharing a bit about her therapy process and destigmatizing mental illness. Her father’s abusive behavior reminded me my mother’s and I appreciated her sharing about how this abuse (and the abuser’s potential mental illness) is often conflated with stereotypes about harsh immigrant parents. Still, though, her writing about her brother, wow. My heart aches just thinking about it (and if you saw a gaysian crying in the Atlanta airport holding a copy of this book and crying, it was me!)....more
Powerful memoir about Safiya Sinclair’s experience growing up in a strict Rastafarian household in Jamaica and the abuse inflicted upon her a3.5 stars
Powerful memoir about Safiya Sinclair’s experience growing up in a strict Rastafarian household in Jamaica and the abuse inflicted upon her and her family by her father. I appreciated the boldness and honesty in which Sinclair described her father’s cruelty and how it affected her feelings and perspective on the world. I liked the vividness of her prose as well as her journey to escape her father’s influence and find her own voice through writing and education.
There were a couple of reasons I didn’t love this memoir as much as many others on here. First, I found some of her writing a bit repetitive, especially in the first half of the book. I also found the ending a bit abrupt and was curious to read more about her processing of her trauma and her relationship with her father. Still, I can see why this book has captured people’s attention....more
I appreciated this author for detailing his father’s life and legal career in parallel with the Israeli occupation of Palestine. Given the wild silencI appreciated this author for detailing his father’s life and legal career in parallel with the Israeli occupation of Palestine. Given the wild silencing of and retribution faced by pro-Palestine voices in this moment, I think the detail Raja Shehadeh includes is courageous. There are interesting themes related to having a parent who engages in activism and how that can affect the parent/child relationship.
I unfortunately found the writing very dry in several parts of the memoir. Important content but the delivery wasn’t my favorite....more
This book was quite chaotic tbh. I agreed with Naomi Klein on a lot of her leftist politics and appreciate her critical thinking, though the organizatThis book was quite chaotic tbh. I agreed with Naomi Klein on a lot of her leftist politics and appreciate her critical thinking, though the organization of this book was a mess. To me, Doppelganger felt like a bunch of disjointed musings about politics, meandering psychology takes, and reflections about COVID-19 thrown together into a book. She bases this book on how she is often mistaken for Naomi Wolf, a writer who’s also a white Jewish woman, though Wolf has leaned into right wing conspiracy theories and Klein has stayed on the political left. Unfortunately, the observations about Wolf didn’t seem like a strong enough logical or emotional foundation – sometimes it felt like an analysis of Wolf, sometimes it felt like an exploration of right wing beliefs in general, but neither avenue impressed me too much.
Three stars because even though the structure of this book was mid to me, Klein did raise some great points/experiences, like her critique of Zionism and her experience of getting the message from a publisher that they wanted to publish women’s stories about their eating disorders/bodies but not women’s takes on political issues. I think I prefer Klein’s other work more....more
I liked this memoir and also felt a bit confused by it! What I appreciated: Viet Thanh Nguyen names and dissects colonialism, internalized wh3.5 stars
I liked this memoir and also felt a bit confused by it! What I appreciated: Viet Thanh Nguyen names and dissects colonialism, internalized white supremacy, and anti-Asian racism in the United States. Loved his critiques of media such as the horribly racist Miss Saigon. His writing about his family feels sincere and moving if not a bit sparse, too, including his deep affection for his wife and kids and the way he honors the three-dimensionality of his parents.
I didn’t love the more experimental elements of this memoir. More often than not they distracted me rather than added to the book. For example, I didn’t understand the blacking out of Donald Trump’s name (like, I abhor him too, but…) I also didn’t get why Nguyen wrote so much of the book in second person. He hints or addresses this choice indirectly (maybe directly but felt indirect to me) toward the end, though the use of the second person felt to me like a way to avoid digging into more of his own emotional arc and exploration about his life. At times, it came across to me that Nguyen just didn’t have enough bandwidth to link the different elements of his life together in a more traditional memoirish way, so he resorted to this more hybrid experimental form.
I preferred Sigh, Gone to this, though A Man of Two Faces punches up toward white supremacy and colonialism enacted by the United States in interesting ways. I’ve read a few of Nguyen’s books at this point and his writing feels a bit over-intellectualized for my taste, however, I really do respect what he’s done for Vietnamese American and Asian American representation in literature. I also hugely respect his public and uncompromising call for a ceasefire for Palestine and how he’s used his platform to speak on the dehumanization of Palestinians even though it’s cost him professional opportunities....more
I appreciated Marcie Alvis Walker’s honesty in this essay collection, especially about her experiences growing up as a dark-skinned Black girl. I founI appreciated Marcie Alvis Walker’s honesty in this essay collection, especially about her experiences growing up as a dark-skinned Black girl. I found her writing about beauty interesting, especially the clash between how her mother praised Blackness yet she herself still internalized a lot of white and Eurocentric appearance ideals growing up. I primarily give this essay collection a three-star rating because there were a few instances where Walker would raise an event (e.g., a conflict at her child’s school) though not fully round out or provide details about what had transpired. I was also curious to read more about her difficulty to fully disinvest from beauty/appearance ideals overall (e.g., thinking of what Tressie McMillan Cottom writes about in Thick). Perhaps this read will resonate with those who are searching for narratives about racial trauma, as well as the journey to healing from racial trauma throughout one’s life....more
I liked learning about lesbians throughout history, especially given the erasure of queer romantic love between women. I thought Amelia Possanza did aI liked learning about lesbians throughout history, especially given the erasure of queer romantic love between women. I thought Amelia Possanza did a sufficient job of paying attention to intersecting dynamics of class, race, and queerness when reflecting on these different lesbian narratives. Unfortunately I found the writing style a bit dry and the toggling back and forth between describing history and writing memoir clunky. Read for a book club so we’ll see what others think!...more
Powerful and painful essays about living as a queer Mexican woman. Creep addresses a range of topics including the intersection of racism and sexism, Powerful and painful essays about living as a queer Mexican woman. Creep addresses a range of topics including the intersection of racism and sexism, sexual assault, and oppression enacted by people both within and outside of the literary community. I like that Myriam Gurba can both call people out and inject humor and wit into her writing.
While I loved Myriam Gurba’s memoir Mean when I read it back in 2019, I unfortunately didn’t enjoy Creep as much. The essays in Creep felt a bit too unfocused for my taste. I think others may still appreciate the nonlinear writing more than me....more
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