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
I liked and agreed with a lot of the feminist messages in this book: that male serial killers are often glorified and glamorized with little attentionI liked and agreed with a lot of the feminist messages in this book: that male serial killers are often glorified and glamorized with little attention paid toward female victims and survivors, that women are labeled as hysterical and overdramatic for their emotions, and that many men are complicit in rape culture even if they have not perpetrated a rape themselves. On a thematic level, I thus appreciated Bright Young Women for putting the women in these scenarios in the center of attention.
That said I found the writing on the sentence level quite monotonous and predictable, even though the topic itself is important. The book was thus a bit of a drag for me to get through. At the same time, I totally recognize and agree with what Jessica Knoll was trying to accomplish message-wise here....more
I liked this book and feel that this debut author has potential. This short story collection Peacocks of Instagram follows several diasporic Indian woI liked this book and feel that this debut author has potential. This short story collection Peacocks of Instagram follows several diasporic Indian women as they navigate family, romantic relationships, and struggles in the workplace. Deepa Rajagopalan does a nice job of portraying these women as three-dimensional characters who have unique personalities and agency even as they navigate sexism in their day-to-day lives. My favorite stories were “Driving Lessons” and “Rahel,” where I felt that Rajagopalan captured a specific and poignant emotional landscape within the context of growing up and navigating leaving home.
It’s really hard to enthrall me with a short story so several of these stories communicated an important political message or an interesting idea about relationships, though didn’t leave an emotional impact. I think it’s rare for me to feel immersed in a short story so that’s perhaps more on the form than the writer’s ability. I was moved by a few of the stories, especially the couple I listed above, so I would be interested in reading this author’s debut novel when it comes out....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 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
Oh wow, I loved this book. My Last Innocent Year takes place in the winter of 1998 and follows Isabel Rosen, a senior at the prestigious, wea4.5 stars
Oh wow, I loved this book. My Last Innocent Year takes place in the winter of 1998 and follows Isabel Rosen, a senior at the prestigious, wealthy, and elite Wilder College located in New Hampshire. Isabel comes from a working-class Jewish family that owns a Lower East Side appetizing store. Her senior year starts out tumultuously when Isabel is sexually assaulted by Zev, one of the only other Jewish students on campus. The emotional upheaval in Isabel’s life escalates when she meets R.H. Connelly, a once-famous poet and non-tenure-track professor who’s teaching Isabel’s competitive writing seminar this semester. Their affair sets the shaky foundation for a series of events that transcends Isabel’s individual life and speaks to the broader landscape of gender and power of that era – and I’d venture to say, our current era as well.
I first want to applaud the writing in this book. Daisy Alpert Florin’s prose was so, so good, and so readable. I feel like she captured the atmosphere of a wealthy liberal arts college so well, as well as that period in your early 20’s where everything feels so intense and important. I found myself immersed in Isabel’s perspective in a way I haven’t felt since I read Ghosts by Dolly Alderton in February (though the two books are very different.) I was enraptured; I stayed up last night finishing the book and only got three hours of quality sleep, though it was worth it (the sleep thing may have also had to do with me drinking a Sprite right before going to bed but, whatever.) The scenes, the dialogue, Isabel’s internal reflection and the retrospective narration – I loved it.
I also appreciated the subtle yet prominent commentary about men’s mistreatment of women and the (white) feminism of the late 90’s. I thought Florin captured Isabel’s initial reactions and timidity around men so well, even when we as readers may be screaming and sighing in disdain as we witness what unfolds. Thanks to Florin’s high quality prose, the messages didn’t come across in a heavy-handed or distracting way. I also liked how Florin captured the shades of grey in certain relationships and situations, though of course not in a way that condones sexual assault or patriarchal violence. There were some elements related to female friendship that I liked and wished could have been more developed, but I didn’t feel annoyed about this enough to rate this book lower.
Finally, I loved Isabel’s growth arc. I appreciated the subtleness of it, how we see her develop some confidence though not in a particularly easy or linear fashion. This style of characterization felt keenly realistic to me, like how many of us learn about ourselves little by little as life unfolds, in a journey that doesn’t stop.
I’m rounding this one up to five stars because it’s one of the best books I’ve read this year. I also liked the very implicit, maybe-not-even-there-but-I-read-it-as critique of Zionism/those who support it. Ugh, I want more people to read this book so I can discuss it with folks, especially Isabel’s relationship with Connelly which was wild (also he turned out to be such a… well… I’ll let you read it and draw your own conclusion.) I’m hoping for more books of this quality in 2024!...more
Pleasantly surprised by how much I ended up liking this book! When We Were Friends follows Fern, who was best friends with Jessica when they were in hPleasantly surprised by how much I ended up liking this book! When We Were Friends follows Fern, who was best friends with Jessica when they were in high school. They shared their deepest and darkest secrets with one another, slept over at each other’s places and had fun silly times together, and talked about school and boys and their parents. But Jessica did something that betrayed Fern’s trust so Fern cut her off. Ten years later, Fern works as a writer and an aspiring mental health counselor, when Jessica reemerges out of the blue. They start to rekindle their friendship, but can Fern trust Jessica after what happened in their shared past?
I will start with some of what I didn’t like about the book before moving onto the positives. I found the writing style kind of clunky, especially the first 50% or so of the book – the characters’ jokes felt a bit forced, some dialogue came across as awkward, and I couldn’t really fully immerse myself in Holly Bourne’s prose. I was definitely leaning toward three stars for a large portion of my reading experience.
But, around the 65% mark, something about this book really clicked for me. Part of it I think was the suspense of whether Fern and Jessica would be able to actually form a friendship again. I also felt like Bourne’s writing came across as more authentic in the latter half of the book. Finally, several of the book’s themes came together toward the end. Throughout the novel Fern is obsessed with the male gaze and what men think of her, and there’s also an emphasis throughout the novel of the casual violence and degrading ways boys and men treat women. While the delivery of those ideas didn’t feel 100% skilled in the first half of the book, Bourne really did make the feminist commentary about sexual violence and female friendship come through by the end of the novel. I was impressed by how she wrote about Fern and Jessica’s friendship and the ways they were both able to mature and grow.
Overall, if the story sounds interesting to you I’d recommend. I think there could have been a bit more unpacking of the male gaze theme (something that is unfortunately super prevalent in the gay male scene too), though I respect and appreciate Bourne’s overall commitment to her feminist message in this novel. Other friendship-focused novels I’ve liked included When You Were Everything by Ashley Woodfolk and We Used to be Friends by Amy Spalding!...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
Powerful novel about a Palestinian woman searching for a better life for herself and navigating Israeli occupation. I appreciated Susan Abulhawa’s honPowerful novel about a Palestinian woman searching for a better life for herself and navigating Israeli occupation. I appreciated Susan Abulhawa’s honest descriptions of our protagonist Nahr’s struggles, such as the sexism and poverty she faces as well as the uprooting of her life due to imperial violence (including that of the United States). At the same time, Abulhawa portrays her agency and her strong commitment both to herself and to her loved ones. A book that inspires reflection about individual choice and resistance amidst broader systems of oppression, as well as anger and motivation to fight injustices including colonialism and patriarchy....more
I picked this book up after hearing about it on a podcast episode celebrating being childfree. I liked the novel’s various messages about the pressureI picked this book up after hearing about it on a podcast episode celebrating being childfree. I liked the novel’s various messages about the pressure women and people face to have children, as well as how having children can potentially lead to dissatisfaction with one’s life. The Nine Lives of Rose Napolitano also attempts a unique narrative form where we see nine different ways the main character’s life could have played out.
Unfortunately the writing itself left a lot to be desired. Clumsy turns of phrase, clunky similes, emotions described awkwardly – it felt difficult to immerse myself in the narrative because of the prose. Still, I respect Donna Freitas for the book’s themes and for trying something a bit experimental....more
Omg, I did not expect to be as moved by this book as I was! In The Rachel Incident we follow Rachel, a university student working at a bookst4.5 stars
Omg, I did not expect to be as moved by this book as I was! In The Rachel Incident we follow Rachel, a university student working at a bookstore who meets James, a charismatic and supposedly heterosexual fellow early-20-something. The two become roommates and form a close, affectionate, and at times intense friendship. When Rachel develops a crush on her married English professor Fred Byrne, James devises a plan for her to seduce him. When their strategy takes a left turn it sets into motion a string of events that dramatically affects both of their lives and their bond with one another.
I loved how Caroline O’Donoghue captured the layered emotions of being in one’s early 20’s. The mess, the yearning, the being in relationships with people who aren’t right for you and kind of knowing it but not really, the intensity of not yet loving who you are but wanting to. I resonated with Rachel’s emotions; O’Donoghue wrote her internal experience in a way that felt real, unguarded, and honest. Though the first third or even first half of the book meandered at times – I was wavering between three and four stars during that beginning portion – when things came to a head in the latter part of the book, I felt my heart clench. There were certain big moments, certain reveals (e.g., (view spoiler)[when Rachel learns that James is moving to New York, I was shaken, similarly when she and Carey reconnect later (hide spoiler)]), that made me pause and think, dang, I really am invested in these characters now. I felt both for and with Rachel.
I also deeply enjoyed the growth of Rachel’s characters. Her development felt realistic, happening in bumps and starts, not in a grand awakening in a single moment but in little choices that built up to subtly change the course of her life. I felt proud of her and her trajectory. Though people may compare this book to Sally Rooney’s novels given the parallels of white emerging adult protagonists living in Ireland, I liked The Rachel Incident much better, even though both books portray young adults being dysfunctional. I found this book more intentional, the drama more purposeful even if in a similarly slice-of-life way. I also felt that O’Donoghue’s writing was more earnest, refreshingly so, with bits of humor that didn’t come across as unnecessarily cruel.
Finally, I loved the subtle yet strong feminist messaging in this novel. There’s a clear commentary about abortion, though also themes related to class and how women can take things out on one another. All of these components of the novel felt smoothly integrated into the narrative, such that The Rachel Incident always felt first and foremost a story about Rachel’s life, her coming of age within a larger society.
Overall, I’m pleasantly surprised by how much this book moved me. 2023 is coming to a close though there’s still room for books to shine! The first third of the novel may have been a bit off pacing wise – though perhaps reflective of the ennui that can pervade one’s early 20’s – and one part of the novel’s ending didn’t sit exactly right ((view spoiler)[I found Rachel and Carey reconnecting, while definitely super cute and a great portrayal of how people can grow up while apart, a little too convenient/slightly amatonormative (hide spoiler)]). Still, The Rachel Incident had me rooting for Rachel even when I didn’t expect to invest that much, and it made me reflect on how much I know now at 28 compared to when I was like, 20, or 21, or 22. Furthermore, there were a few insights in the novel that struck me as deeply wise, without trying too hard. Overall, I’d say this book deserves its hype....more
I liked this novel about three Filipina domestic workers in Singapore. Their labor is generally unseen and their working conditions are often poor. ThI liked this novel about three Filipina domestic workers in Singapore. Their labor is generally unseen and their working conditions are often poor. Then, a shocking murder accusation is made against one of their friends which disrupts their day-to-day status quo. Each of these women has secrets to keep and allegiances to maintain, though in part through their connection to one another they also gather the strength to challenge the structures that have silenced them for so long.
Balli Kaur Jaswal does a nice job of mixing aspects of different genres in this novel. On one hand, there’s a thriller element about the murder that runs throughout the plot. At the same time, Now You See Us thoroughly interrogates labor conditions of Filipina domestic workers in Singapore and the constraints imposed upon their autonomy. I liked that each of the three protagonists felt distinct in their challenges and desires and for the most part in their voices. I felt that Jaswal effectively captured their struggles while also highlighting their resiliency and capacity to support one another and resist their oppression. She doesn’t minimize their suffering though and how people with power mistreat them. I appreciated that she didn’t sugarcoat the workplace abuse they face. The final two pages brought me to near tears in relation to one of the protagonist’s journey with her grief.
I liked reading how she interviewed Filipina domestic workers in the acknowledgements section. While I didn’t love this book as much as Jaswal’s Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows, I can’t deny that she has a talent for storytelling and can write a relatively complex set of plotlines smoothly. The book jacket describes this novel as Crazy Rich Asians meets The Help, and while I haven’t read the former, I’d say this book is definitely less problematic than The Help - so maybe a less problematic version of The Help blended with Big Little Lies....more
Wow, what an absolute stunner of a novel that could not be more relevant to our times. Evil Eye follows Yara, a Palestinian American woman who grew upWow, what an absolute stunner of a novel that could not be more relevant to our times. Evil Eye follows Yara, a Palestinian American woman who grew up in a conservative and emotionally tumultuous family in Brooklyn, New York. Flash forward and she’s working at a local university teaching art, while at the same time raising her two school-aged daughters and doing the majority of the household chores while her husband focuses on his job. Yara is discontent with the makeup of her life, however, it’s not until she responds to a racist comment made by one of her coworkers that her emotions of disappointment and despair start to fester to a boiling point. Yara begins seeing a therapist and the difficult journey of unpacking her memories that are so dreadfully shaking her to her core.
I loved this book. Loved it. First, Etaf Rum’s writing is immaculate. Not flashy, and so compulsively readable and so clear and concise. The prose didn’t get in the way of the story and in fact conveyed Yara’s emotional state with immense clarity and heart – her post-traumatic stress disorder, her depression and anxiety, and all the intergenerational and present-day racism and sexism that contributed to her mental health. I flew through about 200 pages of this novel last night because I felt so invested in Yara, and Rum’s writing, similar to her debut A Woman is No Man, was enthralling in its simple effectiveness.
The depiction of mental health in this novel got me floored. I was shaking, and by the end I was in near tears too! The way Rum described intergenerational trauma and how Yara’s mother was both a victim of and perpetrator of abuse, whew I was emotional. And Yara’s long, arduous journey of learning how to stop blaming herself for other people’s mistreatment of her, of opening up to her friend Silas and her therapist(s), and of starting to actually sit with the physical sensations of her body and self-regulate all made me both devastated and proud of her. Even writing this review makes tears come to my eyes because as a PTSD survivor Yara’s fight for her life is relatable to me, though of course we come from different backgrounds even though we share immigrant parents displaced by war.
All in all, one of my top books of this year and that I’ve read in my life. Rum does such a fantastic job of portraying the micro and macroaggression Yara experiences, as well as her use of journaling and coming into her own voice to heal. Yara’s friendship with Silas and how friendship acts as a conduit for Yara’s healing, increased self-compassion, and learning to open up to other people had me near tears. Also, the portrayals of therapy were excellent, top-notch, so thoughtfully written without sacrificing either the momentum of the plot or what therapy actually looks like. Etaf Rum, you have my whole heart!
Also, this book came out in March of this year (2023), and unfortunately is so relevant. In the novel Yara’s grandparents were displaced from Palestine by Israel’s colonial oppression, which is literally what is happening right now. Here are some actions you can take to advocate for a ceasefire. While it’s already way too late for thousands of people, we need to take action to *prevent* intergenerational trauma, not just provide care for people after the trauma happens. You can also read The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine by Jewish historian Ilan Pappe if you want to educate yourself on the matter. I’m appreciative of Rum for speaking out about this on her café’s Instagram. FYI, if you leave an oppressive remark about my pro-Palestine, anti-genocide stance in the comments, that’s whatever, I probably just won’t reply. Anyway, this book was spectacular and I don’t want to divert from that, I just felt it’d be disingenuous not to comment on the genocide happening in Palestine now....more
I liked the message about how women face so much pressure to get married and live a heteronormative, amatonormative life by their late 20’s. Other thaI liked the message about how women face so much pressure to get married and live a heteronormative, amatonormative life by their late 20’s. Other than that, though, this book confused me – I found the pacing off and the fantasy elements difficult to buy into. Appreciate the naming of racism and sexism, though unfortunately this book won’t stick with me much....more
I found this overall an engaging and well-written memoir. Kate Flannery writes about her time working at American Apparel and how she witnessed the blI found this overall an engaging and well-written memoir. Kate Flannery writes about her time working at American Apparel and how she witnessed the blurring of lines between sexual liberation and outright exploitation. There’s an entertainment factor in this memoir that’s derived from the kind of glitzy glamor LA millennial lifestyle, intersecting with the struggle to make it as a young woman in a corporate world still dominated by men.
I think one theme that this book addresses particularly well is the pressure between adhering to your values or loosening up on your values so you can get money to feed yourself and pay rent. Without a doubt Dov, the CEO of American Apparel, created a misogynist, exploitative work environment. At the same time, Flannery reflects on multiple points throughout the book about her own perceived complicity in the American Apparel system (e.g., recruiting other young women to this hostile environment) – though it’s not like she just had another job that could sustain her at a whim’s notice. Perhaps it’s a testament to how capitalism can intersect with other systems of power such as patriarchy.
I give this four stars instead of five because the writing, while relatively engaging, didn’t wow me at any point. I liked it though and I can see people who came of age in the 2000’s resonating with this one....more
A great book about the K-Beauty industry. Elise Hu’s writing is wonderful in that it feels both conversational and easy-to-read while also capturing nA great book about the K-Beauty industry. Elise Hu’s writing is wonderful in that it feels both conversational and easy-to-read while also capturing nuance and complexity. She describes aspects of the K-Beauty industry such as skin care routines and makeup products as well as plastic surgery and cosmetic procedures. She researches and reports on the darker sides of the industry, such as the sexist expectations placed upon women’s body image and how people feel compelled to get surgery to perform better on the job market. At the same time, Hu doesn’t stereotype or orientalize Korean culture; she draws both upon history (e.g., class dynamics) to discuss issues such as why colorism persists and upon interviews with Korean people who engage with K-Beauty.
I appreciated too her writing about South Korean who are defying sexist and gendered expectations. Hu does a nice job of including some well-placed self-disclosure and it was nice getting to know her as a human too, in addition to her reporting. I liked her takeaways about learning to expand what we consider beautiful and to divest from viewing beauty as important in the first place (e.g., practicing body neutrality instead).
On a personal and somewhat related side note, yesterday I got into Seattle to visit one of my best friends. Before getting dinner with her, I squeezed in a quick workout. When I stepped on the treadmill, it automatically displayed my weight which I was like what?? I purposefully haven’t weighed myself in years. The number it showed was probably the highest I’ve ever weighed. Thankfully though, I really didn’t care about the number. I had an eating disorder in my earlier teen years, and for the past several years I’ve really stopped valuing appearance, weight, all of that. My lack of a reaction to my weight I think has reflected this work. I’m at a place in my life where I feel so fulfilled with my close friendships, work, hobbies, etc. and I have everything that matters. As Hu writes about toward the end of the book, weight and appearance aren’t central at all to me. Just wanted to share this tidbit as I’ve written about this on my blog in years past and figured I’d include it here instead of writing a full blog post about it (though maybe later I will)!...more
A courageous memoir. In Notes on a Silencing, Lacy Crawford writes about her experience being sexually assaulted by two older male peers whil3.5 stars
A courageous memoir. In Notes on a Silencing, Lacy Crawford writes about her experience being sexually assaulted by two older male peers while attending St. Paul’s School, a New England Prep school. I loved Crawford’s honesty in this book, both about the pain and trauma of the assault itself as well as just how awfully so many people treated her (e.g., the school, her peers, even people who heard about her in casual conversation way later in life). Crawford does a great job of showing how people can be so cruel and choose to silence survivors, as well as how people, including other women and girls, can blame victims instead of holding perpetrators accountable. I also think Crawford owns up to her privilege as a white woman who grew up with/among wealth and “prestige.”
I do agree with other more critical reviewers that this book could have been shorter. Especially in the first half of the book Crawford included a lot of detail about miscellaneous events that I don’t think added much to the narrative stylistically. Still, a solid memoir with powerful take-home messages....more
Enjoyed a lot of the themes in this novel: difficult mother/daughter dynamics, the struggle to recognize and satisfy our desires (e.g., for food, for Enjoyed a lot of the themes in this novel: difficult mother/daughter dynamics, the struggle to recognize and satisfy our desires (e.g., for food, for connection), the invisibility and repression of queerness. Melissa Broder’s prose was as per usual sharp and engaging. The main character struggles with disordered eating and is obsessed with monitoring her food intake. At the same time, I liked reading about her hard-won path toward growth, through setting boundaries, working through her mother-based transference, and doing things that feed her spirit even when they feel hard. One scene in particular that pushed me toward a four-star rating over a three-star one is when Rachel speaks up about (view spoiler)[Zionism at the dinner table with Miriam’s family, fighting against anti-Palestine ideology (hide spoiler)], a gusty move and a topic I don’t see featured in fiction too much. I would also highly recommend Post-Traumatic by Chantal Johnson to those who resonate with Milk Fed!...more
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