Jeannie Vanasco has had the same nightmare since she was a teenager. She startles awake, saying his name. It is always about him: one of her closest high school friends, a boy named Mark. A boy who raped her.
When her nightmares worsen, Jeannie decides—after fourteen years of silence—to reach out to Mark. He agrees to talk on the record and meet in person. "It's the least I can do," he says.
Jeannie details her friendship with Mark before and after the assault, asking the brave and urgent question: Is it possible for a good person to commit a terrible act? Jeannie interviews Mark, exploring how rape has impacted his life as well as her own. She examines the language surrounding sexual assault and pushes against its confines, contributing to and deepening the #MeToo discussion.
Exacting and courageous, Things We Didn't Talk About When I Was a Girl is part memoir, part true crime record, and part testament to the strength of female friendships—a recounting and reckoning that will inspire us to ask harder questions and interrogate our biases. Jeannie Vanasco examines and dismantles long-held myths of victimhood, discovering grace and power in this genre-bending investigation into the trauma of sexual violence.
I was lucky enough to get an advanced reading copy of Things We Didn’t Talk About When I was a Girl by Jeannie Vanasco. While this memoir is a little different from the others I’ve been reading, it truly is fantastic. In it, Vanasco recounts the sexual assaults she’s experienced while also analysing rape culture. It is a truly amazing book and I highly recommend that everyone reads it. Honestly, it is so important. (It releases October 1st, 2019.)
What has struck me in particular about Vanasco’s memoir is how personal and honest it is. When writing about another person, there's always the risk of repercussions. Vanasco gets around this beautifully in her memoir, writing it as she seeks permission from those she talks about, and gives us their exact words. She also tells readers how her memories may not be reliable — but that the memories of those she speaks to also will not be reliable. Her book feels entirely honest and brave for that reason.
The book itself alternates between Vanasco's narrative to us and a transcription of two different phone calls that she has with her rapist, many years after the rape occurred. It's written in 'real time' as Vanasco transcribes the phone calls, and so we see her pauses and breaks and what she thinks about, and who else she speaks to.
What makes this memoir different to others about sexual assault though is Vanasco's attitude toward her rapist and her ongoing struggle to feel the anger she expects she should feel. She and Mark were very good friends for years before the rape, and so she frames her memoir as an investigation of how a good person can do something bad.
This book doesn't only look at sexual assault and the power in that though. It looks at how power is inscribed in language too, and how different ideologies are constructed on the basis of power and exchanges. Vanasco delves deeply into these ideas as she talks with her friend who's a gender studies lecturer, and the conversations recounted are fascinating and enlightening.
This is a hugely important book--possibly the most important book I've ever read--and I highly suggest that everyone reads it.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with a review copy.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with a review copy.
