Review: Made in China: A Memoir of Love and Labor (by Anna Qu)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

As I continue my new-found audio book journey, I’ve been focusing on listening to memoirs and other non-fiction works that I’ve had on my TBR list for ages, but never got around to reading previously.  One such memoir is Anna Qu’s Made in China: A Memoir of Love and Labor, which I can’t remember why I had on my list, but I’m glad I finally got to it.  To be honest, the subtitle of this one is kind of misleading, as there was little to nothing about “love” in these pages, though the part about “labor” is true enough.  Not long after Qu’s father dies when she was a baby, her mother goes to America to pursue a better life, leaving Qu behind in China in the care of her grandparents.  At five years old, Qu is finally reunited with her mother and her new family in Queens, New York, but instead of being a happy reunion, this becomes the start of a nightmare for Qu.  In addition to being forced to work at her mother and stepfather’s garment factory (aka sweatshop), Qu is also repeatedly abused by her mother, who favors Qu’s half-siblings (a brother and sister) and alternates between treating Qu as a maid (making her take care of all the household choirs as well as both of her half-siblings) or pretending she doesn’t exist.  Qu spends most of the book detailing the abuse she suffers at her mother’s hand, such as when she is punished for doing her homework and thrown out of the house by her stepfather at the direction of her mother.  The most harrowing instance of abuse is when Qu’s mother beats her with a hanger for daring to tell her half-sister to ask for permission before using her colored pencils – an incident that nearly kills Qu when she tries to jump out the window to avoid her mother’s violence.  Pushed to the end of her rope, Qu alerts the Office of Children and Family Services through her school’s guidance counselor and after an investigation, Qu sees her situation improve in that she no longer has to work in the family’s sweatshop (where any money she “earned” went to her abusive mother) and instead, she is allowed to make her own money through jobs such as a dental assistant and waitressing.  Even though the social worker assigned by the OCFS, Mary, helps make Qu’s life a little bit better, the one thing that Mary is not able to help Qu with is the one thing she desperately wants – to make her mother love her.  Qu eventually goes off to college and becomes estranged from her mother for the most part (though she does go back to visit her mother, stepfather, and half-siblings at their Queens home and has dinner with them as though nothing happened, which I honestly found a bit baffling given everything she suffered in that family, culminating with her mother’s most recent refusal to provide her with the signature needed for her to continue with her schooling).

In the second half of the book, which takes place 20 years later, Qu recounts her experience working at a start-up company that is on the brink of collapsing.  This portion of the memoir I felt was kind of irrelevant to everything that occurred in the first half (though perhaps Qu included it to show how miserable her life continued to be due to all the lingering trauma from the abuse?).  During this time, Qu decides to request her OCFS report and when she receives it, she is shocked to find tons of inaccuracies with the report, all the way down to the OCFS finding that there was no evidence that Qu was ever abused.  This revelation, along with the discovery that her mother had kept the news of her beloved grandfather’s death a secret from her, devastates Qu.  Though the memoir does end on a slightly positive note with Qu being reunited with the grandmother who raised her in China and the only person in her family who truly loves her unconditionally, that scene felt too short and abrupt to counteract the “heaviness” of everything that came before it.

Overall, I found this to be an uncomfortable read, not just because of the subject matter, but also because there were points throughout the memoir (though mostly near the end) where it came across as though Qu was trying to justify her mother’s abusive behavior by relating it to the struggles she endured being widowed at a young age and then having to build a life for herself after immigrating to America alone. In a segment near the end of the book, it almost felt like Qu was trying to find excuses for her mother, insinuating that perhaps the hardship of having to overcome her situation as a Chinese immigrant woman in America is what made her violent and abusive, which might be true, but then seems to dismiss everything else she had written prior to that. 

The other thing that made this a not-too-pleasant listen was the narrator of the audio book (not the author) who read the entire book in a tone that sounded perpetually angry and bitter.  While it can be argued that using such a tone probably makes sense in this case given the subject matter, it felt grating after awhile, especially after listening for several hours straight, and put me in a depressed mood.  I think this is an instance where it would’ve been better for me to actually read the book instead of listening to it via audio.

Review: The Things We Never Say (by Elizabeth Strout)

My Rating: 5 stars

I didn’t think that I could love another Elizabeth Strout character as much as I love Olive Kitteridge and Lucy Barton but gosh darn it, Artie Dam has definitely earned a place at the top alongside my two favorite characters from the Strout universe!

On the outside, Artie seems to live a happy life – he has a teaching job he loves, a son he adores, a wife with whom he has spent more than three decades, friends and neighbors he often hangs out with, and so much more.  Yet on the inside, Artie struggles with a profound sense of loneliness – a feeling that is compounded by the anxiety he feels about the chaotic state of the world (the story takes place around the time of the 2024 election) – all of which combine to push him into what seems to him like a perpetual state of despair and gloominess.  Outwardly though, Artie is his usual self – humorous, kind, intelligent, and always making a difference to those around him (especially his students) in one way or another. When Artie discovers a secret that has been kept from him for many years, he is forced to re-examine his life, his relationships, and the people closest to him, leading him to question how it is possible to not actually know someone despite being so close to them for so long.

As is her style, Strout writes movingly yet realistically about the human condition, with its many trials and tribulations, mundanities and cruelties, and both its beauty and ugliness which, more often than not, can co-exist in surprising ways.  On an emotional level, I understood Artie in ways I didn’t expect – specifically, his ponderings about relationships and our inability to know each other, even with our closest, most intimate family members.  I’ve honestly felt this way with my own family on numerous occasions and as I reflect upon my own relationships with them, I realize how applicable Artie’s sentiment truly is.  I also can’t help but marvel at how very aptly the title of the book ties into the story – which, at its core, really is about all the things we never say, whether it’s because we “can’t” or “won’t” say them.

One thing I do have to mention (which I kind of alluded to already earlier in my review) is that our current political situation plays quite a huge role in the story.  Now, I’m not normally keen on books that incorporate politics into the story, especially contemporary politics, and usually this is a dealbreaker for me – but this book ended up being an exception.  The reason is not because it was written by one of my favorite authors, but rather, the way that the political situation was incorporated made sense within the context of the story and its characters (and it was not heavy-handed, which I appreciate).  Of course, everyone’s tolerance of this will be different, which is fine, but I personally did not have a problem with it.

With her latest novel, Strout presents us with an entirely new cast of characters (and a new setting too, as this story is set in Massachusetts rather than her usual go-to of Maine) and I ended up loving this one so much more than her previous novel Tell Me Everything (which I enjoyed, but not as wholeheartedly, as the main highlight of that book for me was the long-awaited meeting between Olive and Lucy, but that was only a small portion of the story) – perhaps because this time around, I was fully invested in not just the story, but also all the characters (both the main characters and the supporting ones).  Though with all that said, there IS an Olive-related easter egg in the story, though it’s subtle and can be easy to miss (especially for those who may not be familiar with Strout’s previous works), so Olive fans definitely keep an eye out. 

As I was putting my thoughts together for this review, it dawned on me that many of my most favorite contemporary authors (Elizabeth Strout, Ann Patchett, Fredrik Backman, Lisa See, just to name a few) have something in common that is one (though not the only) reason why I love them so much:  they all have the distinct ability to write about the human condition in ways that resonate and really hit home.  Though I’m not sure if there will be another Artie book (there might not be given what happens in the story), I still look forward to encountering these characters again at some point.  Either way though, one thing is for sure and that is, I will continue to read whatever Elizabeth Strout writes, no matter what!

Review: Gather Me: A Memoir in Praise of the Books That Saved Me (by Glory Edim)

My Rating: 4 stars

I enjoyed this memoir from the founder of the Well-Read Black Girl book club, Glory Edim, where she discusses the books and authors that saved her during some of the most difficult moments of her life. From Nikki Giovanni to Maya Angelou, Audre Lorde to Toni Morrison, and many many more, Edim recounts how the words of these brilliant writers had such a huge impact on her and eventually inspired her to start her hugely popular book club so she could continue to uplift stories by Black writers.

Even though I come from a completely different cultural background, I found that I was still able to relate to quite a few of the struggles that Edim talks about in her memoir.  For example, as the daughter of traditional Nigerian parents who immigrated to the United States, Edim had to constantly navigate the culture clash between her American upbringing and her Nigerian heritage, with having to reconcile the two often leading to an identity crisis.  This is an experience that resonates deeply with me as someone who also comes from a very traditional culture (Chinese) that oftentimes conflicts with the culture that I was raised in (American). One scene from Edim’s memoir especially stuck with me -- she talks about how she was attending her father’s funeral in Nigeria, alongside her mother and her brother Maurice and ended up causing an uproar when she insisted on saying a few words, as the cultural mandate was for women to be seen but not heard:

“I had written something about my father that I wanted to read, but I was firmly told that it would not be possible: A daughter does not speak at her father’s funeral. A woman does not speak in church. I was told not to worry; Maurice could speak for us both.”  

Edim also recounts other instances during her trip to Nigeria where she would be standing next to her brother, but people would refuse to speak to her or even acknowledge her existence, choosing instead to talk to the male in the family. Coming from a culture that places higher value on sons over daughters, I know first-hand what it feels like to be on the receiving end of such snubs (both intentional and unintentional), so I applaud Edim for standing up for herself.

This was definitely a worthwhile read, one that was made even more special with its message about the power of books to not just entertain, but also inspire, heal, and serve as a refuge during moments when it is most needed.  This one is especially good on audio, where Edim’s lively narration adds an emotional element that without a doubt enhances the reading experience.  And yes, the book recs are a wonderful bonus!

Review: The Young Will Remember (by Eve J. Chung)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

Ever since I finished reading Taiwanese American author Eve J. Chung’s stunning and immersive debut novel Daughters of Shandong back in 2023, I have been eagerly anticipating her next book, so I of course was ecstatic to find out that her sophomore novel, The Young Will Remember, would be published this year.  Whereas Chung’s debut drew on her own family history – specifically, the story of her maternal grandmother and her experiences during the Chinese civil war -- this second novel is inspired by her half-Korean husband’s family history and shed lights on another lesser-known piece of 20^th century history:  the Korean War, which was also known as the “Forgotten War.” At the same time, Chung also incorporates her own experiences as a women’s human rights lawyer as well as her work with victims of sexual violence to bring some much-needed attention to the crime of military sexual slavery and the history of “comfort women” during World War II and the wars that followed it. 

Chung weaves these threads together through the story of Eleanor (Ellie) Chang, a Chinese American journalist who becomes trapped behind enemy lines when the plane she is riding in goes down in the mountains of North Korea at the height of the Korean War.  Upon witnessing her comrades being executed in cold blood, Ellie believes she is about to meet the same fate – that is, until a woman she later comes to know as “Emma” claims Ellie as her long-lost daughter Song Yun-Hee, whom Emma had been searching for ever since she was kidnapped by Japanese occupation forces during the previous war.  Even though Ellie is obviously not her daughter, Emma takes her into the home where she lives with her long-time friends, the Pak family – Pastor Pak, his wife Imo, and their son Jae-Min – and treats her as part of the family.  Gradually, Ellie forges a close connection with Emma and Imo – a relationship that only grows stronger as the war intensifies and they are eventually forced to escape to safety in the south. Throughout their harrowing escape, even as they bear witness to the chaos and destruction of bombs raining down on them almost daily, Emma never stops searching for her daughter and at some point, Ellie also takes up the search for Yun-Hee as her own personal mission.  While the search for Yun-Hee is a thread woven throughout the narrative, the heart and soul of the story centers around the bond that Ellie and Emma form as they endure the difficulties of life amidst the upheaval of war.

Once again, Chung delivers a moving story about ordinary women who, bound together by the will to survive the extraordinary hardship and devastating heartbreak that they face, fight against all odds to rise resiliently above the forces that threaten them.  In situating her characters within the historical context of the impact that World War II had on Korea (which she discusses in her Author’s Note), Chung succeeds in doing what well-researched and well-written historical fiction does best: shed much-needed light on little known aspects of history that can also serve as relevant teaching moments when circumstances require it.  In this light, and given its themes, the title of the novel – The Young Will Remember – is indeed apt.

While I still prefer Chung’s debut novel Daughters of Shandong (which was a 5-star read for me), this sophomore effort is a worthwhile read and definitely highly recommended – though with the caveat that this won’t be an easy read by any means, given its depiction of war and its atrocities. Even so, it is still time well-spent.

Received ARC from Berkley via NetGalley.

Review: This is the Story of a Happy Marriage (by Ann Patchett)

My Rating: 5 stars

Ann Patchett is one of my favorite authors, so it probably doesn’t come as a surprise that I will pretty much read anything she writes.  After finishing Tom Lake back in 2023, I’ve been slowly working my way through Patchett’s backlist and recently finished her 2013 essay collection, This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, which I listened to on audio – a wonderful experience in and of itself, since she narrates the audiobook herself. 

Despite what the title says, this collection of essays actually covers a variety of topics – yes, her marriage to Karl is talked about at length, but there are also essays about everything from her relationship with her grandmother, to her friendship with the late Lucy Grealy and the reception of the book she wrote about her (Truth and Beauty), to her closeness with one of the nuns who had taught her in school.  There are also essays about her dog, about how she came to co-own the bookshop Parnassus in Nashville, about her experience “training” in the police academy so she could write about it (her father is a retired LAPD officer), as well as the introduction she wrote as the editor of the 2006 volume of The Best American Short Stories (among many other essays).  Though I loved all of the essays in this collection, if I had to pick a favorite, it would definitely be “The Getaway Car,” which is Patchett’s manifesto about writing – the tips that she gives in this brilliant essay are absolutely invaluable, which also makes this a must-read for all writers, whether aspiring or seasoned.

One thing to note -- this is a compilation of essays that Patchett wrote for various publications over the years, but they are not in chronological order, so technically you can skip around if you want, especially if you already read a particular essay when it was first published (though for me, I still read the collection straight through from beginning to end, regardless of whether I had read an essay previously or not).  With that said, I would actually advocate for reading all of the essays in this collection due to the multifaceted nature of the essays, which, combined as a whole, provides a fascinating glimpse into Patchett’s world and especially helps those of us who are fans of her work better understand who she is not just as a writer, but also as a person.

This is a collection I absolutely recommend, whether you’re an occasional reader of Patchett’s work or a superfan like me – and of course, if you decide to pick this up, the audiobook is definitely the way to go, as there is something about listening to Patchett narrate her own essays that elevates the reading experience.

Review: A Living Remedy (by Nicole Chung)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

Nicole Chung’s second memoir is a poignant love letter of sorts to her parents, both of whom pass away less than one year apart – her father from diabetes and kidney disease in 2019, and her mother from cancer in 2020, during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic.  Chung’s grief is palpable as she recounts the tragedy of her parents’ deaths and her own helplessness in being able to do much for them, both due to financial hardship and physical distance. Mixed in with the pain of losing her parents – both of whom loved her deeply -- is the guilt that comes from feeling that she abandoned them by leaving behind the rural hometown that she grew up in as soon as she could, in pursuit of a life that couldn’t have been more different than what she had known.  Alongside that is the feeling of rage that followed Chung almost incessantly as she gradually begins to understand the role that deep-rooted inequalities in America’s healthcare system played in the premature deaths of both her parents, who were only in their 60s when they passed. In highlighting these disparities, Chung is not vindictive – instead, she lays out the challenges that her parents encounter with the system, and in so doing, not only gives voice to their experiences, but also provides an insightful look into the frustrations of a system that, in its deliberate complexity, is neither meant to be fair nor equal.

Chung’s account of her parents’ experiences especially resonated with me due to my own mother’s health issues, many of which are similar to her parents’: diabetes, kidney disease, breast and uterine cancer, high blood pressure, irregular heartbeat, just to name a few.  I understand the difficulties of having to navigate a complicated healthcare system that, at the end of the day, often times leads to disappointment and despair.  I could also relate to Chung’s worry for her parents as well as the guilt that comes from not being by her loved ones’ side when they needed her most.

This was a heartbreaking read, but also an insightful one that gave me so much to think about and reflect upon, both as it pertains to my own family situation as well as the overall state of the healthcare system in this country.  I definitely recommend this searing, honest memoir, especially the audio book version, which, even though not narrated by the author herself, was still powerful and poignant in its recounting of the everyday realities and struggles of ordinary people trying to live their lives.

Review: Charlotte's Web (by E.B. White)

My Rating: 5 “radiant” stars!

I’ve been feeling a bit nostalgic recently, so I decided to go back and revisit a childhood favorite: E.B. White’s masterpiece Charlotte’s Web, which is a book I adored and read many times as a child but never got the chance to re-read in adulthood.  Honestly, what can I say about this book that hasn’t already been said?  This charming story featuring an unlikely friendship between a pig and a spider is a timeless classic, with themes that readers of all ages can relate to.  Indeed, reading this book as a child, I delighted in the whimsy of the talking animals and like so many others, I adored Wilbur (to the point that I wanted a pig of my own, lol) and loved Charlotte (which is saying a lot considering my overwhelming fear of spiders).  Of course back then, the focus was on the two main animal characters (and rightfully so), but reading this now as an adult, I was also able to appreciate the rest of the characters in a way that I couldn’t as a child. For example, I found Templeton quite funny and could never help chuckling whenever the old sheep tricked him into doing something he didn’t want to do by appealing to his baser instincts.  The goose and gander and their brood of little goslings were fun to read about as well.  By comparison, the human characters were far less interesting in my opinion, except for when they made bumbling fools of themselves, which I admit that I did find kind of funny.  Upon each re-read, whether as a child or adult, I also found the message about the enduring power of genuine friendship, even through life and death, incredibly moving.

I’m definitely glad I got the chance to revisit this wonderful book as an adult.  It was just the heartwarming pick-me-up I needed after a grueling and stressful week at work. If I didn’t already have such a huge TBR to get through, I wouldn’t mind making it a habit to re-read a favorite childhood classic more often!

Review: Strangers: A Memoir of Marriage (by Belle Burden)

My Rating: 3 stars

This book has been getting a lot of buzz and several of my friends who’ve read it can’t seem to stop talking about it, so I decided to check it out for myself to see what all the fuss is about.  As has been the case with most of the memoirs I’ve been reading lately, I chose to listen to the audiobook version narrated by the author, Belle Burden.  While I did find this to be an absorbing read, I didn’t feel it was particularly mind-blowing to the point of garnering all the hype that it has.  I mean, yes, it was horrible the way Burden’s marriage ended and I definitely agree that her ex-husband James is a piece of you-know-what, but overall, I was a bit underwhelmed with the read. 

My first thought when finishing this was to wonder whether it was really necessary for this to be a book (apparently, its origin was an op-ed piece that Burden wrote for the New York Times).  Sure, I applaud Burden for speaking out and for shining a light on the issue of male privilege and the double standards that exist when it comes to infidelity, especially within the context of marriage, but at the end of the day, I’m not sure that I needed 240 pages (or 7 hours for the audiobook version) to reach this conclusion.  At times, the book felt a bit repetitive and there were some small details that we probably didn’t need to know, like the breed of her friend’s dogs for example.  And I’m sorry, but I totally did not understand the significance of the ospreys, which were mentioned way too often for it to not mean something.

From what I can see based on reviews I’ve read though, it hasn’t just been hype – this book has also been mired in quite a bit of controversy, mostly due to Burden’s family background, as both herself and her ex-husband come from a world of extreme wealth and privilege.  Of course, this doesn’t negate what Burden’s ex-husband did to her and she is right to feel aggrieved and all, but by the same token, I can see why the message (and this book as a whole) might not land too well with ordinary folks who don’t have the means to deal with everything that she does.  While it’s true that Burden does acknowledge her privilege (as other reviewers have rightly pointed out), there were still some blind spots throughout the book that, while probably not intentional, had the effect of making it seem like Burden either lacked self-awareness (best case) or was inadvertently flaunting her privilege (worst case).  In fact, Burden herself mentions several times throughout the book her “myopia” when it came to her privilege – for example, this section, where Burden is reacting to the letter that James’s lawyer sent informing her that he intends on enforcing the terms of their prenup (which meant she would likely have to sell one or both of the properties that she had bought): “I said, ‘Other women face much more dire consequences.  I should not complain.’ I had tried to have perspective, to see how privileged I still was, no matter what happened in the divorce.  But my fear had made me myopic again, only able to see what I would lose.” 

The above is just one example (out of plenty) that mentions the myopic lens through which Burden views her privilege.  Another example that stood out to me was the excessive amount of time that Burden spends talking about the private tennis club that she and James belonged to on Martha’s Vineyard (which is where their vacation property, or “summer home” as they like to call it, is located).  She talks about her experience with the club before and after her divorce – especially afterwards, when people gossiped about her and treated her differently and some of them ostracized her and how it made her sad, angry, depressed, etc.  When I read that, I was thinking to myself, really??  A bunch of privileged folks at a rich people’s club turn down their noses at her and she talks about wanting to die of embarrassment?  I would think that should be the least of her concerns in the grand scheme of things, but of course, this could just be my own dissonance due to lack of familiarity with that world.

Overall, while I feel bad for Burden in terms of the way her marriage ended and I’m glad that she finally found her own power and voice, there was too much of a “rich people behaving badly” undercurrent to the book that, at the end of the day, I honestly could not bring myself to care about.  With that said, I am obviously an outlier given the many 4 and 5 star reviews for this book so perhaps check those out as well to get a more well-rounded opinion before deciding whether to pick this one up.

Review: Vera Wong's Unsolicited Advice for Murderers (by Jesse Q. Sutanto)

My Rating: 5 stars

I’ve been wanting to read one of Jesse Q. Sutanto’s books for ages, so of course I was overjoyed when one of my book clubs picked the first book in her Vera Wong series for our monthly read.  After reading so many “heavy” books in recent weeks, this hilarious cozy mystery was the perfect palette cleanser.  I honestly don’t remember the last time I laughed so hard (and so much) – it’s definitely not an exaggeration to say that this was the (literally) “laugh out loud” funniest book I’ve read in ages!

As the elderly protagonist of the story, Vera Wong is a busybody who is meddlesome and nosy and yes, sometimes downright annoying in the way she likes to stick her nose in other people’s business, but she is also competent, efficient, endearing (in her own way of course) and always makes the most mouthwatering dishes (oh and let’s not forget her special skill of brewing the most perfect teas).  Growing up in a Chinese household, I was surrounded by my fair share of meddlesome aunties, so Vera’s antics in the story were both familiar and resonant.  I recognized Vera’s bluntness and her tendency to speak brazenly but matter-of-factly about things without taking other people’s feelings into account; the way she charges head and does what she wants when she wants, all rules be damned; her constant nagging and critiquing of not only her son but also all the young people in her orbit, though not in a grating way like the typical “tiger mom” but rather in a genuinely caring and protective “mama bear” way.  I love how Sutanto portrayed Vera in this realistic, yet nuanced way – on the one hand, Vera is a very traditional Chinese mother, yet on the other hand, she is also mindful of the younger generation’s mainstream cultural phenomena Tik Tok, Google, Buzzfeed, etc.  Indeed, I found the funniest scenes in the story to be those where the younger folks are shocked by Vera’s knack for discerning things that they didn’t think she would understand.  I also laughed so hard at the scenes where the young people in the story are simultaneously flustered and a tiny bit scared of Vera, yet they are also in awe of her and can’t help gravitating toward her, despite the obvious differences in the ways they see the world.  On the surface, the friendship between this elderly Chinese grandma and the young twenty/thirty something characters shouldn’t really work (because of the generation gap and all), but in this story, it not only works, it’s also beautifully rendered.

For me, being familiar with the culture also made this an especially engaging reading experience, as I was able to pick up on things that others might not have – such as the difference between the spelling of Vera’s last name (“Wong” versus “Wang”), for example.  I love being able to recognize these types of little details in stories – like finding Easter eggs – which in my opinion, makes the experience much more fun.

This was a delightful, heartwarming, and absolutely hilarious read – one that I absolutely recommend without question.  I’m looking forward to reading the second Vera Wong book (which I have on my shelf) as well as the Aunties series, which I heard is also excellent.  Sutanto is one of those authors who writes in a variety of genres – from cozy mysteries to thrillers to literary and contemporary fiction, as well as young adult and middle grade books.  I admire authors who are able to write across genres like that, so I’m definitely interested in checking out a few of those books as well.

Review: Know My Name (by Chanel Miller)

My Rating: 4 stars

This poignant and unforgettable memoir was difficult to read at times, but well worth the time spent.  I listened to the audiobook version where Chanel Miller recounts her harrowing experience of sexual assault in her own voice, which made this an especially powerful read.  In narrating her story, Chanel is candid about what she went through, laying everything out in explicit, gut-wrenching detail: the physical, mental, and emotional toll that the assault and subsequent years-long trial had on her; the excruciating pain of having to watch as the defense dragged her own and her beloved sisters’ reputations through the mud; the callous disregard for basic human decency; the attempts to reframe the narrative through victim-shaming and blaming, and worst of all, the injustice of a lenient sentence handed down by a judge sympathetic to the perpetrator. 

Reading Chanel’s memoir reinforced for me how broken our criminal justice system truly is – I mean, it is run by humans after all.  Sadly, one of my biggest takeaways from reading about Chanel’s experience is the painful realization of how cruel the system can be and it’s no wonder why so many victims would choose to suffer in the shadows rather than step into the light. It takes an immense amount of courage to face the criticisms, scrutiny, and judgement of strangers and acquaintances alike, especially with emotions running high on all sides.  What saddened and angered me the most was seeing how the ordeal not only upended Chanel’s life, but also the lives of her family members – for example, having to rearrange school and work schedules in order to accommodate constantly changing court dates, or having to drop everything and show up to court at a moment’s notice or lose the opportunity to make your voice heard.  In essence, the victim’s life is, at best, negatively impacted or at worst, irrevocably destroyed – with these types of odds, who would want to risk it?   I applaud Chanel’s strength and courage in not only standing up for herself (against an unfair and unjust system, no less), but also inspiring so many others to do the same.

This memoir is definitely a must-read in any format, but I would of course recommend listening to the audiobook version for an especially powerful experience.