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Reviews tagging 'Misogyny'
It's What I Do: A Photographer's Life of Love and War by Lynsey Addario
2 reviews
cateyackerman's review against another edition
adventurous
emotional
hopeful
informative
tense
fast-paced
5.0
I love a good memoir, and although she’s a photographer by trade, Lynsey Addario does this genre so well. Her experiences aren’t only intense—making for a fast-paced read—but she was able to portray what she lived through in a way that made me feel like I was behind her camera. Although I’m sure she experienced true horrors only war can create, this book wasn’t excessively graphic. She beautifully portrayed how the work of journalism and photojournalism is essential to our lives; it’s how we stay informed and grasp a sliver of atrocities around the world. This book is a lesson in human empathy and understanding the cost of war.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death, Genocide, Gore, Gun violence, Misogyny, Sexual assault, Violence, Blood, Medical content, Grief, Car accident, Sexual harassment, and War
khaos's review against another edition
adventurous
emotional
informative
reflective
medium-paced
5.0
Somewhere between being an acrobat (age 8) and an astrophysicist (age 17), one of my most significant early career aspirations was to be a humanitarian docu/photojournalist. While my change-making priorities and aspirations shifted a lot, I have long held my fascination with Lynsey Addario's work and life, and this book gave incredible insight into the behind-the-scenes of the stories she tells. (And the book is all thick and glossy and I just love looking at the pictures in between ahhh). I have all the respect for Lynsey for working in these ridiculously difficult circumstances (both war and in a man's world), and for her passion to tell the stories of people who are so often overlooked. I could have read entire books on her single missions because there was so much to learn from every few sentences - gah the world is such a complex and diverse place it's insaaaane. I also loved how despite working in an incredibly competitive man's world of war journalism, and in deeply gendered societies, she still managed to keep small bits of her femininity (painting her toenails on the morning of being kidnapped!), and sexuality, alive. Why can't women have it all and still be respected?
But while some may read the book and find it all inspiring and exotic, I'm just beginning a career specifically focused in conflict and disaster areas so this book actually felt really ominous. It felt like a glimpse into a potential future that will include unthinkable violence and hardships, broken relationships, and contexts where I will be more scared to exist as a woman than of bullets flying overhead. It made me so angry and sickened on her behalf, and daunted for my own safety.
I guess I had also hoped to be comforted by some sort of "working my way from the bottom" story of getting into the humanitarian sector, because all I've recently heard from lecturers and humanitarian people is how difficult it is to get into this oversaturated sector anymore, and how it's nothing like the 'olden days'. But even though Lynsey was self-taught and definitely worked her way from the bottom of photography/journalist-land, she got a loooot of convenient financial help from parents and family that definitely gave her the boost that most people don't get. And she doesn't really acknowledge this privilege, or other other manifestations of privilege in her experiences.
I remember in a live talk she said that lots of people seemed to assume she was fearless, and that that was not really the case. But I think her resolve to continue to seek to show the truth(s) of crises in the face of fear makes her far more brave. Most people just run from that fear, and don't even want to know what's going on in the world.
I have so many more thoughts and this review is all over the place and written over many different days but I must return to my actual conflict and humanitarianism module and stop staying up till 2am and wondering why I'm tired.
But while some may read the book and find it all inspiring and exotic, I'm just beginning a career specifically focused in conflict and disaster areas so this book actually felt really ominous. It felt like a glimpse into a potential future that will include unthinkable violence and hardships, broken relationships, and contexts where I will be more scared to exist as a woman than of bullets flying overhead. It made me so angry and sickened on her behalf, and daunted for my own safety.
I guess I had also hoped to be comforted by some sort of "working my way from the bottom" story of getting into the humanitarian sector, because all I've recently heard from lecturers and humanitarian people is how difficult it is to get into this oversaturated sector anymore, and how it's nothing like the 'olden days'. But even though Lynsey was self-taught and definitely worked her way from the bottom of photography/journalist-land, she got a loooot of convenient financial help from parents and family that definitely gave her the boost that most people don't get. And she doesn't really acknowledge this privilege, or other other manifestations of privilege in her experiences.
I remember in a live talk she said that lots of people seemed to assume she was fearless, and that that was not really the case. But I think her resolve to continue to seek to show the truth(s) of crises in the face of fear makes her far more brave. Most people just run from that fear, and don't even want to know what's going on in the world.
I have so many more thoughts and this review is all over the place and written over many different days but I must return to my actual conflict and humanitarianism module and stop staying up till 2am and wondering why I'm tired.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Kidnapping
Moderate: Death
Minor: Misogyny and Sexual assault