| Title | : | Lucky |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 033041836X |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9780330418362 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Paperback |
| Number of Pages | : | 243 |
| Publication | : | First published August 4, 1999 |
Lucky Reviews
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This is what I remember.
This is the first line in Lucky, Alice Sebold's memoir of her rape and its aftermath. It's the kind of first line that hooks you as you stand in the aisle of Barnes & Noble, or as you browse the "Look Inside" feature on Amazon. It's the kind of line that demands you read further. In five words, swollen with portentousness, it makes a lot of promises. An author needs to have a certain amount of guts to start a book like that. Alice Sebold has them and more. All the words that follow are testament to this; every page is an act of courage.
The first thing that jumps out at you, even before that opening line, is the title: Lucky. Is that supposed to be ironic? Blackly humorous? Or, somehow, the truth? Sebold answers that question immediately, with a brief, lyrical prologue:In the tunnel where I was raped, a tunnel that was once an underground entry to an amphitheater, a place where actors burst forth from underneath the seats of a crowd, a girl had been murdered and dismembered. I was told this by the police. In comparison, they said, I was lucky...But at the time, I felt I had more in common with the dead girl than I did with the large, beefy police officers or my stunned freshman-year girlfriends. The dead girl and I had been in the same low place...During the rape my eye caught something among the leaves and glass. A pink hair tie. When I heard about the dead girl, I could imagine her pleading as I had, and wondered when her hair had been pulled loose from her hair tie...I will always think of her when I think of the pink hair tie. I will think of a girl in the last moments of her life.
Since Lucky was published back in 1999, Alice Sebold has gone on to great fame and fortune as the author of The Lovely Bones. That 2002 novel was on the New York Times bestseller list for over a year. As with any pop cultural phenomenon, however, there was an inevitable backlash. These days, it's hard to find people who can say a kind word about it. Eight years and a subpar film later, it has become easy to pretend that we were never moved. But in that passage above, you see all of Sebold's gifts on display. She's not a complicated stylist; rather, she hits her emotional beats by dint of perception. She captures the small details that can raise the hair on the back of your neck. And in every sentence you see the catharsis.
I am not a huge fan of memoirs. I think everyone has a story, and everyone is entitled to tell it, but I'm just not going to read it. Unless you're a president, or a war hero, or the guy who invented Diet Pepsi, you probably don't need to publish a memoir. I don't like reading books about people with whacky families or who were heroic recreational drug users. That's not unique, and it's seldom enlightening. Rather, it smacks of calculation. A way to get Harper Collins to give your rough draft a look-see. Hey, I'm a talented writer who needs a break. What should I do? Maybe I'll snort a line of heroin off that prostitute's buttocks and write about that...
Those thoughts - admittedly cynical - never slipped into my mind while reading Lucky. It didn't feel commercialized; it wasn't manipulative. It was therapy. There's no other way to describe it. Sebold writes nakedly about an intensely private violation in cringing detail. You can almost see her dissociating in front of you, allowing her to write with a kind of reportorial detachment.
The opening pages are unforgettable, as Sebold graphically and unflinchingly describes her sexual assault. At times her writing is clinical, at times, oddly poetic. She alternates smoothly between short, simple, punchy sentences, and flighty, novelistic turns-of-phrase. For instance, during the rape, she wrenchingly describes being forced to give oral sex. Here, the prose is dry, workmanlike, almost like the transcript of a court proceeding: just the facts, as they happened. And maybe that's the only way it could have been written, because the detail is so precise, you want to look away. To have veered away from objectivity might have been unbearable. (Even so, it often felt like an invasion of privacy to be reading this, almost like you've opened a super secret diary). Then, smoothly, Sebold will shift styles, such as the way she describes how she talked to her rapist: "I forgive you," I said. I said what I had to. I would die by pieces to save myself from real death.
The beginning of Lucky is like a punch in the gut. Its honesty and power leaves you drained. You will read it in one gulp of air, unable to stop to breathe. Of course, that tension cannot be maintained. Nor should it. The rest of Sebold's story is about coming to grips with that moment, and the way she tells this story expresses, in its way, what it felt like for her to put life back together. There is a certain feeling of anticlimax in the writing that mimics Sebold's post-traumatic stress. She struggles with shame, alienation, and the eventual trial of her rapist. And out of nowhere, there's even a cameo by Tobias Wolff (!).
If you come by this book, it's probably for one of two reasons: first, you liked The Lovely Bones; second, you have a personal need for Sebold's insights.
Adult rape is a hard crime to classify. It's easy to get tangled up in legal arguments about consent, or to reduce its seriousness by hinting that the victim somehow had it coming. Even with DNA, it's a crime that is often impossible to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt. Yet in a very real way, rape is as serious as murder. It spares the finite of a person's body, while destroying the infinite of the soul.
This is why I read Lucky.
The first girlfriend I ever had in college was raped at a frat house. We were both freshmen, a few months into our first semester, still in that sheltered bubble of youth, where bad things only happen to strangers. She went out with friends, I made the decision to stay in and study. Thus, for me, the first lesson of college: the choices you make can be the choices you cannot unmake.
I didn't see her again for a couple days. I heard the news, of course, but she was busy with those things you hope you never know. Later, after the late-night trip to the hospital, and the rape kit, and the meeting with detectives from the sex crimes unit, and a phone call home that I can't imagine but have spent many hours imagining, I went to visit her in her dorm room.
When I saw her, she was cowering in the corner, and the look in her eyes, that mingling of fear and alertness, is something that I've never forgotten. (The only thing I can compare it to is my dog, Henry, who I rescued from a shelter; when I first got him, whenever I raised my voice, he got that same slinking, terrified look, as though waiting for his next beating). As a man, I'm genetically incapable of understanding what the experience meant for her. Indeed, unless I'm convicted of a felony, I probably never will. All I'd ever know was the external stuff: how we broke up; how she walked about campus with a certain listlessness; how she started smoking and drinking and doing things she hadn't done before; and how she dropped out of school a year later, and disappeared into the rest of her life, while I stayed with the rest of mine.
It would be insulting to think my imaginative powers could conjure a fraction of her reality, though it has never stopped me from trying. So when I picked up this book, long after my freshman year had passed, I did so with purpose.
I wanted to read this for her. -
IO ERO STATA FORTUNATA
Nella galleria in cui fui violentata... una ragazza era stata uccisa e smembrata... Al confronto, dissero, io ero stata fortunata.
RAPE 101. ISTITUZIONI DI STUPRO
In principio fu Amabili resti e per me è stato subito amore.
L'anno dopo fu pubblicato in Italia questo, ma l’ho ignorato: sapendo che era una storia vera, la vera storia della scrittrice, ho sorvolato pensando non avesse la potenza del primo che avevo letto.
Poi ho visto Alice Sebold a Massenzio leggere alcune pagine del suo nuovo romanzo e ho aspettato con ansia che fosse pubblicato.
Nel 2007 è finalmente arrivato, titolo La quasi luna, e io ho pensato che fosse perfino meglio di Amabili resti.
Però, poi ho visto il film di Peter Jackson, film bello, e ho pensato che Amabili resti (Lovely Bones) era davvero il romanzo migliore di Sebold.
Adesso, ho finalmente deciso di prendere in mano l'esordio finora trascurato, e, credo che Lucky sia il migliore fra i migliori.
Lucky è un romanzo romanzo, nonostante racconti in prima persona un fatto vero successo alla scrittrice che affida alla sua protagonista il suo stesso nome, senza celarsi dietro pseudonimi.
Ma è anche una magnifica inchiesta, un grande reportage, un incredibile memoir, una ricerca che scende nel profondo dei fatti: nel profondo dell'anima, e della verità, lungo la lama di un rasoio.
Mentre lo leggevo, ho pensato spesso a Truman Capote e al suo meraviglioso A sangue freddo: ma la Sebold ci porta dalla parte della vittima, sceglie ancora il punto di vista della vittima - e a me sembra una scelta difficile, ma vincente.
La copertina della rivista New York del luglio 2015: le 35 donne che hanno pubblicamente accusato Bill Cosby di violenza. La sedia vuota è per quelle che hanno ancora troppa paura di parlare.
Come dicevo, la storia è proprio quello che è successo ad Alice quando aveva diciotto anni: stupro. Rape.
E lei dice che bisogna imparare a pronunciare la parola, senza averne vergogna, senza averne paura.
La vergogna e la paura rimangono, la violenza non si lava via: infatti le sono serviti altri diciotto anni per riuscire a scrivere un libro sul suo stupro. Questo.
Ma riuscire a dirne il nome ad alta voce è già un passo avanti.
Il film “The Accused-Sotto accusa” di Jonathan Kaplan del 1988 dove Jodie Foster subisce uno stupro di gruppo proprio sopra il flipper di questa foto.
Purtroppo Alice si è inceppata e non scrive più.
Ma adesso torna in libreria una nuova edizione di questo con una magistrale spietata prefazione che lei ha scritto ad hoc per la nuova edizione americana (e inglese) di Lucky. Robinson di Repubblica ne ha anticipato un ampio stralcio.
Comincia così, con rara potenza:
Sono passati trentasei anni da quando sono stata violentata, diciotto dalla prima edizione di Lucky, e solo due mesi da quando un molestatore seriale nonché orgoglioso palpeggiatore di figa è stato eletto quarantacinquesimo presidente di questi Stati Uniti.
Foto di Silvia Camporesi.
Prosegue così, con altrettanta potenza:
L’amara verità è questa: se potessi avere una gomma magica e cancellare quella notte del 1981, lo farei in un batter d’occhio, e se potessi dire a qualunque ragazza o ragazzo violentato da un parente che rispetto a lui o a lei sono stata davvero fortunata, lo avrei già fatto. Ma tutto ciò che potevo fare era scrivere un libro e raccontare una singola storia. Sfortunatamente non c’è modo di ricominciare daccapo, e dopo essersi salvati la sfida più grande rimane vivere con la consapevolezza della vita che ti hanno sottratto.
E finisce così, con profonda lucidità:
Alla fine credo che la mia più grande fortuna sia stata aver trovato le parole per raccontare la mia storia, e che quelle parole siano state ascoltate.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bAgoK...
Silvia Camporesi -
In Lucky, Alice Sebold recounts the night she was raped and how that event and its consequences reverberated throughout her life. The first chapter of this book made me feel ill, so major warning to readers that there is intense detail about rape and assault right from the very start. However, I thought Sebold's frankness was very important to her story. She tells it exactly like it is, and it was interesting to see how she handled herself in and out of the courtroom—especially for someone so young. This book made me furious and sad, and for good reason. How rape victims are treated by 'the system' is infuriating. And, like the book and ill-spoken words of the police officers said of Sebold, she was relatively 'lucky' with her situation. Of course, no one raped is ever lucky. But I can't even begin to imagine the countless cases that are unreported or not believed daily. So sickening and sad, but this story is one woman's strong and steady voice that should be listened to.
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Turns out this book was based on a false accusation of a black man, whose life was ruined. Very sad.
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I feel so sad that I hated this book so much. It wasn't the subject because I've read books on this subject matter before but it drove me crazy how everything in her life, every moment became about her rape. To the the point that when her room mate was raped she made it about her own rape. No wonder she couldn't wait to get away from her. It was a bit insane actually. Every one she met she had to tell them about her rape, every guy, everyone one. It absorbed her. If they tried to support her she complained about how they did it, if they ignored her she complained about that. During the rape she made a vow that it would be apart of her forever and she kept it. She wrote poems about it, books about it and talked about it to anyone who would listen to her. She is right, she is a victim and I found myself wanting her to be more of an inspiration. She even took credit for a police officers promotion because of her rape case. As if he never did any other work to warrant a promotion. Then she would write about frivolous details of her college friends life that had nothing to do with anything. Ugh! I kept reading it in hopes that it would get better. Then her heroin use was just a after story? Are you serious? She glossed over it. This book has very little to do with surviving rape and reads more of a detail of her trial and hatred for her family and herself.
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Maybe you have to be a survivor to really appreciate this book. Maybe that is why I could not put this book down. Even though what happened to me was not violent, nor did I report it, I still went through many of the emotions, inner dialogue, and relationship changes and challenges Alice went through in the long aftermath, and I really enjoyed comparing the similarities and differences in our experiences. I felt myself choke up several times throughout this book because even when it seems she should be doing well -- she won her case, made what seemed like true friends, was able to have healthy relationships -- we see how easily her life crumbled again. In the first several years after a rape, everything seems to come back to the rape and what it did to one's self-esteem and general philosophy. It changes everything you've come to expect from life ("It won't happen to me, smart girls don't get raped."). I went through a self-destructive phase as did Alice; I was with men who were degrading in not so obvious but nonetheless damaging ways, as was Alice. But there is life after rape, and that is the one thing I was left wanting from this book -- I wish she delved into how long it took her to not think about the rape on a daily basis anymore; when and how she met her husband; what she plans to reveal/conceal to her children (if she has any).
It's hard to know how someone who has not been through the R-word would take a book like this, thinking it is too exhibitionistic or histrionic, perhaps a cry for attention or a way to say "This is why I'm worthy of a memoir and your personal tragedies are not." I'm not sure how well this book would educate non-victims either since it is so personal, rather than a rape-crisis-center-type pamphlet ("what to say/not to say to a victim"). But Sebold does depict the range of reactions, and sometimes I find her responses to the "bad reactors" a little curt, like she was built more for emotional survival than I was -- or maybe it is the other way around?
In any case, as a survivor, and having also read 'The Lovely Bones' and enjoying Sebold's style, this was a great read for me. (One more thing: I might not recommend it for people still in the 'victim' stage, too real and raw and who knows what dangerous emotions and crazy thought processes it might provoke, as similar literature did to me in my early stages of recovery). -
Knocking my review down from four stars to one star.
Sebold’s career was launched with this memoir; what a travesty and what a tragedy. -
- Updating my original 3 star review to a 1 star for this reason -
A 39-year-old rape conviction at the center of a memoir by award-winning author Alice Sebold has been overturned because of what authorities determined were serious flaws with the prosecution and concerns that the wrong man had been imprisoned.
Anthony Broadwater, who spent sixteen years in prison, was cleared Monday of raping Alice Sebold when she was a student at Syracuse University, an assault she wrote about in her 1999 memoir, “Lucky.” He also received a private apology from the DA and was removed from the sex offender registry
Sebold wrote in “Lucky” of being raped as a student at Syracuse in May 1981 and then spotting a Black man in the street months later that she was sure was her attacker. However, Sebold failed to identify him in a police lineup, picking a different man as her attacker because “the expression in his eyes told me that if we were alone, if there were no wall between us, he would call me by name and then kill me.” Sebold said police told her the man she picked in the lineup looked “almost identical” to the man she’d previously identified as her attacker.
Broadwater was tried and convicted in 1982 based largely on two pieces of evidence. 1. Sebold identified him as her rapist on the witness stand, and 2. microscopic hair analysis, which has since been deemed junk science.
The conviction came into question due to a producer of a film adaptation of "Lucky." Executive producer Tim Mucciante left the project and hired a private investigator after becoming skeptical of Broadwater’s guilt when the first draft of the script differed so much from the book. “I started having some doubts, not about the story that Alice told about her assault, which was tragic, but the second part of her book about the trial, which didn’t hang together.”
Sebold issued a short “No comment” through her publisher when asked by the New York Times to respond to Broadwater’s exoneration. The publisher says they have no plans to update the memoir in light of new information. -
*Updated 2/9/22: so the NYT article about Sebold came out and I wanted add my 2 cents. (You should read that article if you aren’t familiar but basically the man Sebold identified was exonerated 16 years later… her actual rapist is still unidentified)
Yes, I still recommend this book. Sebold was the victim in this. And Now so is Anthony Broadwater. No I don’t think Sebold is to blame and here’s why: she survived a traumatic rape. Maybe you have to live through something traumatic to understand, and how the POLICE jacked this upis ridiculous. The POLICE knew better. Sebold didn’t. Sebold gave a description in the days following her rape. Months later she saw Broadwater and was triggered. In 1981 we didn’t know what triggering was, but I’m quite certain police officers knew how odd that was for Sebold to describe someone SO different from Broadwater and then boom - that’s him? Could’ve been his eyes, his gait, his cologne - but the POLICE should’ve known better and done a better job investigating. And yes, the Justice system is racist as all get out.
Yep - a white woman says “rape” against a black man and this happens but this wasn’t a false story - Sebold WAS raped by a black man. She didn’t willingly have sex with a black man and then say “I was raped.” SHE WAS RAPED.
So with that out of the way - what transpired wasn’t her fault. The police knew about false identification in 1981. Studies were done. They went with what a traumatized victim said and that was terrible. I hope that Broadwater sues the police for their terrible work
My review:
This book, from the start had my attention. I loved that Sebold didn't elicit pity (although of course, you FEEL pity), she elicits strength is this telling memoir. The strange part is, I felt the book is uplifting because it makes my problems in life seem so insignificant. It reminds me that there is ALWAYS a way through the tough times. A great, telling and meaningful, well-written work of non-fiction. -
i read this before i read
Lovely Bones, in part because i wanted to see how she dealt with her own history, in part because well, i'm a sucker for memoirs. i classify this as a crazypeoplememoir not lightly - my definition of "crazy" is a little loose.
alice sebold was raped by someone she didn't know as an undergraduate at syracuse university.
what i love about this book is that sebold doesn't fall into the normal tradition of "victim" memoirs. she doesn't blame other people - even her attacker. she accepts that this horrible thing happened to her, and then she tells her story of how she pulled herself out of the hole, how she fought against being a victim, how she fought with herself.
she is no elizabeth wurtzel, and i love her for that. she doesn't take too much blame, and she doesn't push it off on others - it's the story of someone who has adjusted, who has had something horrible happened to them and come out on top. she didn't write this for pity, she wrote this because it was her story. and i fully respect her for that. -
When I first started reading ‘Lucky’ I thought that something was wrong with me. I mean, I get that there is this horrific rape within the first chapter and that NO ONE should have to go through what she went through, but I wasn’t feeling it. It was more like ‘oh, wow, that sucks’. Then, I started feeling worse because I thought of my soul has become a blackened prune pit residing near my left kidney. I was more into the fact that Tess Gallagher and Tobias Wolff were Alices’ professors than that poor Alice had to live through all this.
Then, thanks to the good people on GoodReads I learned that there is a syndrome.
Compassion Fatigue; A combination of being overwhelmed by the sheer number and scope of human disasters and atrocities, and numbed by the decontextualized manner in which they are presented by the media (thanks Abigail!)
This in no way undermines the meat of the story, I'm just explaining my utter horror of discovering that I wasn't truly freaking out during this book.
You can tell me something straight out and I’ll be blasé about it, but once you start to hint at an issue, I’m all over it. I think that as the book went on, it wasn’t so much a direct ‘I was raped’ story but more of a day to day life after with all the idiosyncrasies and patterns that emerge that drew me in.
It reminds me a bit of Joan Didion’s ‘Year of
Magical Thinking’. That same sort of despondency that you find when you know that there is no option but to just move on.
So, there was a peak and then a valley and then a peak and then a valley and so on.. I would find myself not being able to put the book down during the time between the rape and the trial, watching Alice justify her actions and her drinking and not even commenting on the fact that it was an escape mechanism. But, following the trial, I was in that sort of valley stage, which, I suppose, is how life goes and it took me a bit longer to get through that.
The ‘Aftermath’ section was strong, except at that point I think her use of choppy, six word sentences seem out of place. This is the stuff that should flourish, the drug use, the denial, the recovery.
I appreciate her direct approach and lack of drama though. I won’t even pretend to understand what she went through and to write a memoir about it is extremely brave. -
Alice Sebold lied in this book and had an innocent man arrested with her false testimony and he spent 16 years in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. Then she wrote this utter bullshit and profited off her lies. All proceeds from this book should go to the real victim. The man she wrongly accused of rape.
https://atlantablackstar.com/2021/11/... -
I empathize with what happened to her but she should not profit for putting an innocent man in prison.
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Alice Sebold is an eighteen year old college freshman. Walking home from a party she is attacked this attack takes place not far from the campus. Alice is brutally raped and beaten she struggles as much as she can, but is threatened by her attacker that he will kill her is she doesn't do as she is told.
After the attack she must deal with the aftermath of the trauma she has just endured. She reports it to the police where she will have to relive the whole attack again. Then of course there is her parents and friends who she must also tell which is so hard not only for her, but her loved ones as well. After reporting it to the police she must find the strength to go ahead with legal proceedings.
This is a very harrowing true story and one in which is quite difficult to read at times. The graphic, painful and disturbing details may be hard to read, but I feel it's a remarkable story of someone who finds the strength to survive such a horrific ordeal and continues to thrive and love again. Well worth a read. -
Women's stories of their trauma aren't being told, their being sold. Here's a shining example.
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Brilliant. I was hooked from the first paragraph of the foreword but I had a very difficult time getting though the first chapter, where Sebold's rape was described in excrutiating detail. Remembering this is a memoir, it made me physically ill. I really admire the guts this woman has...she went right back to Syracuse and went on with her life, determined to get justice for what happened and reclaim her identity to be more than "that girl who was raped". I was appalled at the treatment she received...from her fellow students to the idiot psychiatrist her mother sent her to. The people in her life from her family to her friends, insist on treating Sebold as a victim and she obviously didn't want that role. She certainly has her dark moments but her strength won't allow you to feel bad for her for an instant. Odd to call this book inspirational, but it was...
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It was...okay. I think the reason why this memoir got so much acclaim and so much attention because she was the "perfect victim" - white virgin, raped by a stranger- a BLACK stranger, no less. Once I realized this, I knew I was going to read through this with resentment. I knew that most survivors, like myself, would not be able to relate to her experience. Everything fell into place for her: she got the conviction, she went to the hospital, she was complimented on her testimony. There was nothing groundbreaking about it. This is the scenario that most people want you to think is the norm, but this rarely happens. I was disappointed after reading all the rave reviews to read this sorta interesting memoir that brought nothing new to the table when a survivor speaks out.
I am most pissed off, however, at those weird 5 lines or so that dealt with her racism after being raped. Her friend's black friend hugs her like some apology on the behalf all black men?? Really? It's like she brings up how she (and her father) are racist, but hey it's okay it's because of the rape!! I mean, come ON, is it any more excusable for her to center on that person's race because her rapist happened to be a part of a racial minority? I think it was in very poor taste to bring up something that loaded without addressing it properly. The "so many black men are raping our white virgins" myth is rampant and I'm annoyed that this was perpetuated with the lack of proper analysis or clarification.
Whatever. I didn't really like her or her family. Never reading again. -
I enjoyed this book when I read it (had a professor assign it to us for class). However, it has come to light that the man that was sent to prison for her rape was actually not the man who raped her. His conviction has been overturned. This is not to say that she has not be raped. But she apparently misidentified the wrong man. And the police and prosecution did her no favors as well. The whole thing seems rather unfortunate. You have a wrongfully convicted man and then now you have her and she is going to be retraumatized over this now.
There is no winner in this situation. Only losers. And now this memoir is outdated because of the new circumstances. It was well written but sadly mistaken. And more pain is going to come out of this.
That said, this memoir cannot be recommended anymore because the evidence that has now changed much of the story. -
I didn't read this book but I just want to give one star for what happened recently. Alice Sebold you better give like idk 80% of your royalties to the man you wrongfully accused. And also have you thought about how what you did is gonna affect future assault victims? Wish I could unread and unwatch Lovely Bones
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I have to admit - I couldn't finish this book. Rarely do I not finish a book, but I just couldn't with this one. I normally love Alice Sebold's matter-of-fact writing style, but here, it failed. She described her rape and the events in her life that followed, but she kept saying that no one else can understand what it's like to be a victim of that kind of violence. I know that's true - I can never understand - but I'm reading this book to try to understand what it's like, and it's the job of the author to use her gift of words to explain it to me. She never bothered. It felt more like she was writing the book in order to provide herself with a type of therapy, rather than to spread understanding to the reader.
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Downgrading from three stars to one. Sebold wrongfully accused and ruined a man’s life for nearly 40 years, and then profited from it through this “memoir.” It is tragic what happened to her, and she made a mistake she continues to fail to admit.
https://www.nytimes.com/2021/11/23/ny... -
Edited to
Man cleared of Rape. Sebold's actions during the trial and her lack of an offical and meaningful aplogy ruin what should be a good book. I knocked down the stars (3 to 2). I am leaving up my original review. But a reader would be better served reading
Know My Name. I understand that ids after a traumatic event can and have lead to other false ids, but there is something off with the lack of apology.
Second up date as of 12/2/2021 - Sebold has issued an apology.
here. Memoir pulled for redrafting to include the exoneration.
Rape is at once both a simple and complext subject. Regardless of the victim and rapist, it ties, cuts, right to the heart of our views about gender. It is impossible to step this, and it has been used to inspire terror and as a form of punishment.
It should be note that before I read this book, I had read the
jezebel article about
You Deserve Nothing, to which Ms. Sebold is connected. My reading of this book is most likely affected by that article.
Sebold's story starts with an act that despite its violence, its illegality, is simple. Simple because most acts are, because it is simply violent, because it is simply wrong. Sebold's graphic description of her rape makes the reader at once a unwilling quasi voyager while shattering and subverting all the romance novel fantasies.
The complex follows afterward as Sebold details not only her reaction, but those of the police, the lawyers, her friends, her family, her community's (both college and home) reaction to her rape. This is both raw and compelling because it touches at the complex issues that lie at the hear of any reaction to rape.
Even though Sebold's rape happened in 1981, all of what she deals with can still be found today. No, I'm not talking about just where rape is used as punishment or where women are killed by thier family or where women get thier virginity tested upon arrest. I'm talking every where. Here in Philadelphia, a female judge threw out rape charges because the woman who brought the charges had arranged to have sex for money with two of the men who "ran a train on her" (the total number was over five); therefore, according to the judge, she couldn't be raped, just robbed, and anyway she was asking for it. Even in "civilized" or "modern" countries, the victim, no matter how innocent faces accusation - what were you doing there, how were you dressed and so on. Society wants to blame him or her. Yes, him. Just because a young teenage boy sleeps with his teacher doesn't mean he is "lucky". Reverse the sexes, or think about Penn State. (And for the record, she seduced me, doesn't work when it is a 12 year old and fifty year old).
It is to Sebold's credit that in this memoir she doesn't come across as particularly likable or admirable. Nor does she to want the reader's admiration or liking or, more importantly, pity. She doesn't want any of these things. She describes what is and what was. This is important, as important as those inspirational stories that we read in school. Everyday is as important as insipirational, especially when, considering the recent STATS, such attacks are, sadly, an everyday occurance. -
DNF
I’ve said this before about memoirs, and I’ll say it again…they need to be believable. If you tell me something, which I doubt very much to be true, then I’m going to take it that the whole book is a fabrication.
Page 13 on my laptop…
“He began to knead his fist against the opening of my vagina. Inserted his fingers into it, three or four at a time. Something tore. I began to bleed there. I was wet now.
It made him excited. He was intrigued. As he worked his whole fist up into my vagina and pumped it…”
I don’t believe it! That’s not an easy thing to achieve, especial when the victim is an 18-year-old virgin. It also takes time. Ask any woman who’s given birth; it’s a tight fit in there.
So, no…not reading any further. -
Originally gave this book four stars but after learning it’s based around lies and she falsely accused her rapist and he spent years in prison as the outcome I’m rating this a one star.
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An absorbing memoir about a college girl who was raped. The book covers the rape, the trial, and the very long recovery. Rape is an ugly and isolating act and the author takes you as close to it as is possible for someone never having experienced the trauma. It will take me awhile to get this story out of my head.
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It took me awhile to read this book, mostly because I had so little time, but I loved it. It was like reading my own story. I was so proud of how she stood up to her attacker, and always wished I could have. The time period was exactly the same, so it was eerily the same in a lot of ways. I also grew up in Syracuse, so I knew all the locations quite well and felt her story even more, if that's possible. You have a life before and a life after, and it's never the same again, no matter how hard you try.
