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jana_heady's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
inspiring
sad
tense
fast-paced
5.0
anna_luella's review against another edition
5.0
I guess I should say that I almost never write reviews, and this isn’t much of an exception, but it’s the first time I’ve wanted to post one. I love art; I love being able to bask in it, critique it, question it, find solace in it - but it typically is always done in private because at the end of the day, I know how difficult it is to put your work out there, and I appreciate it–whether it is particularly moving for me or not. I’m happy to just be a quiet consumer.
I’m almost disappointed that it took me so long to know that this memoir existed. I’m about 5 years behind, but in the context of the last 5 years of my life, it couldn’t have made its way to me at a better time.
Many times, the question of “What radicalized you?” is posed in society, especially to young adults. Living in the United States, depending on your circumstances, you may be radicalized just by praxis rather than theory. I know I was. Still, somehow it seems that there’s always another case that just reaches just beyond the depth of incredulity you are forced to grow accustomed to. There is an amalgamation of names and stories burned into my brain– taking up space in my body alongside my own pain, my own name, my own story. This has been for as long as I can remember.
In intro psychology classes, the term “flashbulb memory” is a popular vocab term that is presented to students early on. Usually, the most notable example of this term is 9/11. If I dug into the absolute recesses of my mind, maybe I could be satisfied with that. I was just a bit too young though; besides, throughout my adolescence and early adulthood, I’ve gone through enough adversity to now have the memory of a goldfish. Even so, when I saw a tik tok about some recent updates on the assailant a week ago, I inadvertently discovered that this book had been written, and ordered it within seconds. I was finally able to recall one of my only flashbulb memories: I had recently graduated high school, I was weeks away from turning 18, and on one sunny afternoon, Buzzfeed had just posted an article containing Chanel Miller’s (formerly known as Emily Doe) full, unedited victim impact statement. I remember the day, the weather, where I was sitting, and my emotional reaction as I pored through her words. I had to read this memoir.
So no, this isn’t a classic review as much as it is an open thank you to the author. I’m usually the kind of person who takes in stories as quickly as I can, sometimes needing no more than a day. I spent my entire last week with Chanel though. Her style of writing made me feel like I was right there with her through all of the triumphs and sorrows and confusion and anger and love. Maybe it made me feel like she was with me through my own as I navigate(d) my personal traumas.
This memoir, while certainly not an “easy” read, is her unapologetic reality. There were so many times I related to her pain expressed by knowing how difficult it was for her loved ones to cope with details when she could not ever opt out of it, while still wanting to remain protective over them and attempting to shield whatever she possibly could. Finding the space in myself to consume her full story, I wanted her to know that I saw her. I felt that I was there with her through every single page, every single line. She is not just another to me. Further, I was so impressed with her narrative voice and pockets of creativity, that I am really excited to read Magnolia Wu next, and all of the rest that is yet to come from her. Her stories will always be welcomed warmly in my home.
To her: Thank you for your continuation in pursuing writing. Thank you for this intimate peek into your life, your incredible support system. Thank you for sharing the touching depths of your sisterhood. For showing us every multifaceted role you encompass: a strong woman, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a girlfriend, an artist. Thank you for not letting your story be told by anybody else. Thank you for being brave enough to trust the majority of us with meeting Emily first. I feel so privileged to know your name, Chanel Miller.
*With all of the trigger warnings in mind, anyone who has the capability to hold space for Chanel’s story should. I highly recommend it. It touches you in a way beyond what stars and reviews could ever suffice. It is her voice, her pacing, her grammar, her perspective, her thought process… it is all her, and she takes her time to construct it into such a beautiful narrative that will require you to spend a generous amount of time with it in order to be able to fully absorb and appreciate it. You will be more touched, hopeful, and inspired once you have.
“This book does not have a happy ending. The happy part is there is no ending because I’ll always find a way to keep going.” -Chanel Miller
I’m almost disappointed that it took me so long to know that this memoir existed. I’m about 5 years behind, but in the context of the last 5 years of my life, it couldn’t have made its way to me at a better time.
Many times, the question of “What radicalized you?” is posed in society, especially to young adults. Living in the United States, depending on your circumstances, you may be radicalized just by praxis rather than theory. I know I was. Still, somehow it seems that there’s always another case that just reaches just beyond the depth of incredulity you are forced to grow accustomed to. There is an amalgamation of names and stories burned into my brain– taking up space in my body alongside my own pain, my own name, my own story. This has been for as long as I can remember.
In intro psychology classes, the term “flashbulb memory” is a popular vocab term that is presented to students early on. Usually, the most notable example of this term is 9/11. If I dug into the absolute recesses of my mind, maybe I could be satisfied with that. I was just a bit too young though; besides, throughout my adolescence and early adulthood, I’ve gone through enough adversity to now have the memory of a goldfish. Even so, when I saw a tik tok about some recent updates on the assailant a week ago, I inadvertently discovered that this book had been written, and ordered it within seconds. I was finally able to recall one of my only flashbulb memories: I had recently graduated high school, I was weeks away from turning 18, and on one sunny afternoon, Buzzfeed had just posted an article containing Chanel Miller’s (formerly known as Emily Doe) full, unedited victim impact statement. I remember the day, the weather, where I was sitting, and my emotional reaction as I pored through her words. I had to read this memoir.
So no, this isn’t a classic review as much as it is an open thank you to the author. I’m usually the kind of person who takes in stories as quickly as I can, sometimes needing no more than a day. I spent my entire last week with Chanel though. Her style of writing made me feel like I was right there with her through all of the triumphs and sorrows and confusion and anger and love. Maybe it made me feel like she was with me through my own as I navigate(d) my personal traumas.
This memoir, while certainly not an “easy” read, is her unapologetic reality. There were so many times I related to her pain expressed by knowing how difficult it was for her loved ones to cope with details when she could not ever opt out of it, while still wanting to remain protective over them and attempting to shield whatever she possibly could. Finding the space in myself to consume her full story, I wanted her to know that I saw her. I felt that I was there with her through every single page, every single line. She is not just another to me. Further, I was so impressed with her narrative voice and pockets of creativity, that I am really excited to read Magnolia Wu next, and all of the rest that is yet to come from her. Her stories will always be welcomed warmly in my home.
To her: Thank you for your continuation in pursuing writing. Thank you for this intimate peek into your life, your incredible support system. Thank you for sharing the touching depths of your sisterhood. For showing us every multifaceted role you encompass: a strong woman, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a girlfriend, an artist. Thank you for not letting your story be told by anybody else. Thank you for being brave enough to trust the majority of us with meeting Emily first. I feel so privileged to know your name, Chanel Miller.
*With all of the trigger warnings in mind, anyone who has the capability to hold space for Chanel’s story should. I highly recommend it. It touches you in a way beyond what stars and reviews could ever suffice. It is her voice, her pacing, her grammar, her perspective, her thought process… it is all her, and she takes her time to construct it into such a beautiful narrative that will require you to spend a generous amount of time with it in order to be able to fully absorb and appreciate it. You will be more touched, hopeful, and inspired once you have.
“This book does not have a happy ending. The happy part is there is no ending because I’ll always find a way to keep going.” -Chanel Miller
daisycornwall's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
sad
medium-paced
4.75
someconsequence's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
inspiring
reflective
sad
slow-paced
5.0
jensbookshelf79's review against another edition
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
medium-paced
5.0
kiersten13's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
informative
inspiring
sad
tense
slow-paced
5.0
This book is incredible., no exaggeration.
sydneyah's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
reflective
slow-paced
5.0
chanel miller puts indescribable thoughts and feelings into words. it is so extremely clear how much she cares about bringing comfort to survivors through her writing.
“i always wondered why survivors understood other survivors so well. why, even if the details of our attacks vary, survivors can lock eyes and get it without having to explain. perhaps it is not the particulars of the assault itself that we have in common, but the moment after; the first time you are left alone. something slipping out of you. where did i go. what was taken. it is terror swallowed inside silence. an unclipping from the world where up was up and down was down. this moment is not pain, not hysteria, not crying. it is your insides turning to cold stones. it is utter confusion paired with knowing. gone is the luxury of growing up slowly. so begins the brutal awakening.”
smf2023's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
fast-paced
5.0