DNF
Genre: Women's Fiction
TL;DR: this is one of the most hurtful and painfully cruel books I have ever attempted to read. I have serious concerns about readers’ potential experiences with this story, and the harm and hurt it may cause.
My notes begin with the following sentence and I stand by it:
THIS BOOK IS TOXIC.
Please proceed with this review and with this book with extreme caution.
TW/CW: fat shaming, disordered eating, and physical and emotional self-harm and abuse.
Thinking about this book, and thinking about writing this review, has made me so queasy. I’ve stopped and started again six or seven times now. Trying to read it made me feel awful: awful about myself, and awful for the people who might pick it up expecting to find a story that makes them feel good, or that makes them laugh. Good Luck With That made me feel terrible burning shame, hopelessness, and that cloying throat-blockage of imminent tears. In other words, the exact opposite experience from what I wanted.
The premise of the book is as follows: Emerson, Georgia, and Marley met at a weight-loss camp as young women. They made a list of things they were going to do when they were finally thin, and then grew up in separate directions, as friends do. Then Emerson dies, and Georgia and Marley are tasked with completing the list Emerson left behind. It’s a familiar premise, with old friends reuniting over the unfulfilled wishes of a lost loved one.
The problem is the execution of moving Georgia and Marley from one state of mind regarding weight and self-acceptance to the state of or even the idea of loving themselves as they are.
The point of view switches between Marley and Georgia, with some chapters that are excerpts from Emerson’s diary as well. Their perspectives, with the amount of self-loathing and cruel judgment they inflict on everyone around them, created a harmful environment for me as a reader, and reading as far as I did was excruciating.
I’ve thought about this book a lot since I tried to read it (three times), and I think that if the intention was to present a journey of self-acceptance, the start of that journey was too deeply set in loathing for fatness, and on loathing of anything associated with being overweight, to ever reach a destination of self love. The points of view read as if these characters see fatness as a choice. They think about fatness as if this is what thin people think fat people ought to feel about themselves: shame, embarrassment, self-hatred, and loathing.
The root problem is the foundation of the characters’ journey: Emerson dies at the start of the story, and the cause of her death is unclear enough that it appears she died because she was very fat. As they discover more about her final months of life, which were abysmal due to mistreatment, cruelty, and neglect, Marley and Georgia compare themselves to Emerson to varying degrees, both with a relieved air of, Well, at least I wasn’t THAT fat.
Emerson is never a character, or a person treated with sympathy or understanding. She’s a foundation, a jumping off point for Marley and Georgia’s journeys, and the flattening of Emerson into a prop only makes her portrayal more painful. She is described by other characters as disgusting, as a waste, and not as a person. The only time we see Emerson as a complex, nuanced human being is in her diary entries, and they’re mostly self-abuse and self-abnegation.
Emerson’s death is used as a lesson and an example, then as motivation for the other characters to lose weight in a way that further reduced her into a meaningless absence. Their reaction to seeing her in the hospital is excruciating:
Hard to recognize amid the tubes and wires and the second chin so big it rested on her chest…and God, the mountains, the acres of flesh….
In her hand she clutched an envelope, but clearly she was too weak to lift her arm to hand it to us. Or her arm was too heavy. Or both.
Then there was Emerson’s usefulness as a dead inspiration:
I was going to lose that last bit of weight. I could do it. Emerson would want me to do it.
The memory of her, helpless in that bed, wheezing, every part of her in some kind of distress…
I was so close to being thin.
Emerson’s death doesn’t cause grief or feelings of loss, just determination and pity/relief, further extending the ways in which she isn’t really a person.
But it’s not just the treatment of Emerson that made me stop, though that was plenty discouraging and made me feel crumpled. Georgia and Marley also speak as if they represent accurately every fat person’s perspective, and constantly inform the reader (“you”) how fat people “are,” while adding a painful first-person “I” or “our” to further complicate perspective:
True peace was rare when you were fat. When you were fat, you wore armor to protect and deflect.
…a nurse, one who was carrying a good sixty-five extra pounds herself. (Estimating weight is one of the superpowers of the fat.)
It was our story, after all, the story of all fat people. Eat those emotions.
These were the things thin girls got to do, things that were out of reach for us fatties.
Their descriptions of one another are cruel, as they outline the acceptable and unacceptable ways one might be fat:
Marley was the best person on earth. So instinctively kind, so funny, so generous…and yes, sure, overweight, but she carried it well – she’d always had a waist and great boobs. She could get away with zaftig or Rubenesque.
Not me. I’d always been fat-fat, like a troll, like a egg. There was no romantic word for how I was shaped.
Each chapter includes a moment that compares the point of view character to another person, to the dead body of Emerson, and to fantasy ideals of thinness. The use of first-person narration made these moments heartlessly painful for reader, especially when coupled with the use of the second person. “I am fat like a troll,” then “true peace was rare when you were fat” – the variations in point of view using “I” and “we” then “you” only made it confusing and difficult to escape the negativity and self hatred.
Beneath my notes where I wrote “THIS BOOK IS TOXIC,” is another smaller note:
“This book is hurting me.”
Reading Marley and Georgia’s narration and Emerson’s diary resurrected every terrible thing I’ve said to myself as the characters said those same things to themselves, and to other people. Moving to a place where I am kind to my body and the unique way it works, where I work with my own physiology instead of battling the space in which I live with weaponized guilt, shame, and cruelty, took years and years of work. I didn’t want to go back.
If learning to undo those patterns of self-abuse was part of the journey for these two characters, I could not go with them. The place where they started was so flawed in its premise, so unsteady in its cruel and hurtful foundation, I saw no way for them to ever be anything but toxic to themselves, and to me.
I stopped reading.
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A few more things:
“Fat people learning to love themselves enough so that they stop gaining weight” is not only a harmful idea, it’s false. I learned to love myself unconditionally years ago, which prompted me to get treatment for PCOS, depression, and anxiety. I’m happier than ever. I’m also fatter than ever.
To those who loved this book, I’d gently suggest to you that fat people are not your inspiration porn. I’d also ask you listen to the self-identifying fat people who are telling you they are hurt by this book.
For those saying the critiques are out of context, please consider this: I can’t read this book, because I can’t afford the therapy I’ll need after. Not an exaggeration.
I noticed subtle slut and fat-shaming in her books, but lost interest in reading anything by Kristan Higgins after the humping dog that was supposed to be fall-down-on-the-floor hilarious. I think it was in one of the Blue Heron novels. As someone who counts dog trainers among her friends, manic humping dogs do not amuse me. We all have our triggers!
One of my closest cousins almost died from her anorexia ages ago and it still pains my soul to read about characters with eating disorders. Thanks, SB Sarah, for bravely pointing out a toxic book. I now know I dodged a reading bullet.
After reading all the glowing reviews of Higgins work some years ago, I thought to try her out. Good new-to-me-authors can be difficult to find.
Checked out 5-6 books from the library. I read 3 1/2 (skimmed most of the fourth) before crying ‘uncle’ and stopping. Never looked back. This will definitely not be the one to make me do so.
Thank you Sarah for the heads up.
@Ana Mardoll
I knew I’d seen something about this book on twitter! I read the threads around the same time that the discussions around Insatiable were coming up and just felt so angry. Just wanted to say thank you for blogging/ tweeting about it so that those of us who have worked hard to accept our bodies and are not in a place where they could have read this and not just “shrugged it off”.
Also thank you to Sarah as well for a very well thought out and gently treated review
“Here’s my experience, and it was echoed in the words Higgins posted today: a fat person sees EVERYTHING and everyone first and foremost as a reaction to his/her own size.”
@Margaret-I respectfully disagree. I haven’t read all the comments, but stopped to respond after reading yours. Everyone’s experience is different, and if you say this was yours, then of course it is true. I can assure you it is not how I view myself, or anyone else. I am so much more than my size, or the numbers on the scale. I competed in triathlons, overweight-and I took extreme pride in what my body could do, and believe me I thought nothing of what size I was crossing that finish line.
Your experience is different than mine, because I didn’t become overweight until I was in my 30’s. So maybe there is something in growing up overweight, that forms these kind of thoughts. I do want to say, even as a thin teenager, I still had people commenting on my weight. I distinctly remember being 16, with my first boyfriend. He asked how much I weighed, when I said I was 115 lbs (I’m 5’4″), and he said “you don’t look like you weigh that MUCH!”. Luckily even back then, in 1976 I thought WTF?? Should I be under a 100 lbs and not have boobs?? We broke up soon after 🙂
@ DiscoDollyDeb said,
“Anyway, take it from Naomi Wolfe who observed, a society obsessed with women’s thinness is actually obsessed with women’s obedience.”
Sing it sister!!! I swear by all that is holy, any man who tells me to back down, calm down or the worst for me, settle down-is in for an ass whooping. I am all about making myself larger in this world, rather than smaller.
I love this site so much, but I wish I could reply under someone’s comments-but here I am again.
I’ve read through all the comments, and I guess Higgins struggled with her weight. The problem I have is that she was a one click author for me, until her last book-Now That You Mention It-which was totally fat shaming, and so weird from her usual books. But you know what? If she wants to exorcise her demons? More power to her. Go for it! You join Jodi Picoult on my list-I’ll never read another book you write.
I feel the same way as I did when reading the live tweets of this book. Overwhelmingly sad and a lot hopeless. I am struggling with my weight. I don’t see myself as beautiful, particularly since I have definitely gained and it is a struggle to love and accept myself. Thank you for this review, and I’m so sorry that it hurt you to read. May we all continue on that hjourney of loving ourselves and appreciating ourselves for the awesome people that we freaking are.
How could an author hurt her readers like this? It’s a betrayal of trust and it’s actively, dangerously harmful. I’m glad you DNF’d this book, for your own sake. And I sincerely hope that reading the book and writing this review– raising the necessary red flag– didn’t come at too high of a cost to your personal wellbeing. Thank you.
I just stayed up until the wee hours reading this, and I really disagree with your view. Yes, she presents some very real, mean comments…but that is the point. It is real. These are all things we tell ourselves, or things that we experience. And that is why it is there. The author has never been one to create perfect characters in a perfect world. They struggle, fail, and try again. I think you lost track of the fact that despite this pain, each character found peace in her own way. The ending is very body positive, allowing each person to find their own way. I found that gratifying, because we all deal with our weight differently. Some can lose it, and find a way to be OK, others can keep it on and be healthy and some lose control at the price of their health. In the end, I found it inspiring to be one of those who find the way to be healthy, one way or another.
When someone with an eating disorder has already commented explaining that the book triggered a major relapse, I really think that anyone coming along and shrugging and saying, “Well I liked it” is being massively irresponsible. Sure, you liked it. Good for you. But do you not see that this book is doing actual harm to some readers? Why would you continue to recommend that people read it? Reading shouldn’t have to be like Russian roulette – if there’s a bullet in ANY of the barrels, we should be urging people to put it down and move away.
Heather… trying to be healthy said: “In the end, I found it inspiring to be one of those who find the way to be healthy, one way or another.”
Newsflash: You can’t tell how healthy someone is by their weight. I worked in medicine for two decades, and I hate to break this to you, but patients with 10% body fat also have high cholesterol, high blood pressure, fatty liver, endocrine disorders, cancer, asthma, arthritis, diabetes, and everything else you’d like to believe is bad health reserved for gluttons. In another startling development, many patients classified as overweight to morbidly obese do not have any of those conditions. Get back to me when you figure out how to blame someone who has never been fat for being unhealthy the same way you blame someone else’s weight for health problems you imagine they have after expertly diagnosing their appearance. I would love to hear the science behind “this fat person has XYZ because they’re fat, but this thin person has XYZ because alien ghost unicorns beamed them into a rainbow and altered their DNA with dark magic.” Otherwise, you’re just making shit up to support your own neuroses, which is not what I call healthy.
If you’re truly healthier after your weight loss journey, your own improved life should be sufficient validation of your experience. If you’re truly living your best life as a healthy person, you shouldn’t need a whole book full of fat-hate to pat you on the back for escaping that dreadful fate. You might want to get that checked out because being obsessed with how much anyone weighs (yourself or others) and deriving “inspiration” from having that reinforced by a book IS NOT HEALTHY.
I have an extremely complicated relationship with my weight and my body much like every woman does. I was obese for 95% of my life and then had weight loss surgery because of extreme health issues but before that I was desperately trying to love my size. But I feel so strongly that plus size CAN be healthy and there IS NOTHING INHERENTLY WRONG with being plus size. I think that bigger women, tiny women, all women are gorgeous.
So this book pisses me off and brings up so many horrible emotions for me. Just reading through Ana’s live tweets had me in tears when she did it – but I was so thankful that she did. And I’m thankful for this review as well.
And anyone saying that oh there’s nothing wrong with this book because “I” don’t see anything wrong with it? Screw you. You’re ignoring every single person who has dealt with society either erasing fat people or shaming fat people. Society thinks that is completely okay to do and those of you who are okay with this book apparently thinks it’s okay too.
My problem is this is presented as “Look, here is what all fat women think about being fat.” and it so is not. Like someone else said – her superpower isn’t knowing people’s weight it’s knowing the fat & calorie content of every food. Mine is being able to pick out artificial sweeteners or ‘replacement fats’ in foods with only a microscopic taste. Like another commentor I was also thin as a kid and became fat at 40 and self-loathing doesn’t enter into it, nor does angst at trying to fit into ‘beauty standards’ because the glory of 40 is being able to say FUCK YOU to ‘beauty standards’. I have friends who have struggled with weight their whole lives. Yes, some of them have fought hard with self loathing, but others have not.
There is no One True Experience of Fatness but this book tries very hard to tell you there is and I disapprove.
Y’know, I think it’s possible that this book and be earnest and heartfelt and well meant, and have the characters end up at a healthier (notice the comparative) place… and still have a lot of toxic elements. These things aren’t contradictory, especially when we’re talking about weight and body image, issues around which our society is screwed as hell, and the shame and blame set up of the many parts of the medical establishment. It sounds like a lot of the people who liked the book shared experiences with the characters, and didn’t find the experience of reading the book traumatic.
You can do that. That’s okay.
But listen to the people who had other experiences, and why they did. Their experiences don’t negate your liking the book. But your liking the book doesn’t mean their experiences aren’t important.
This book reminds me of the After School Specials and what I call “issue books” that comprised the YA genre when I was growing up. Man, I hated those. That’s why I read the romance genre almost exclusively now.
If fat bias/fat shaming in healthcare has been mentioned already, I’m sorry to repeat it. To have catalyst character die because of her weight perpetuates the dangerous, often lethal myth of fat = sick thin = healthy. https://www.nytimes.com/2016/09/26/health/obese-patients-health-care.html
I think you lost track of the fact that despite this pain, each character found peace in her own way. The ending is very body positive, allowing each person to find their own way.
I was going to not comment again, but I just…I want to highlight this. Because a lot of the people saying this book is positive say something like this.
Each person found their way.
The key to enjoying this book seems to be not thinking Emerson is a person. Or, I guess, thinking that death is the best sort of peace a (non-)person like Emerson can hope for.
And that is toxic.
@ Anne: if you come back and read this please know that I’m so sorry you’ve gone through this. You are a survivor, and a warrior, and you are amazing and beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing your brave words. And here’s to reading experiences in future that make you feel seen, cherished, and celebrated.
In two other Kristan Higgins books I believe she presented weight problematically. One was Fools Rush In where the main characters was trying to lose weight for comic effect to gain the man of her dreams. It was less problematic and a little Bridget Jones so I forgave it. The second book was Now That You Mention It and it was SO BAD. The main character hated herself, had no friends, boyfriends or anything because she was fat as a young woman and then she met a young girl that also had those problems. I found it so dated to be honest. I didn’t even know this book was about 3 fat female friends struggling with their weights until I bought the book. I’m glad this review exists. I am really tired of fat women being portrayed as sad and ashamed of themselves for being fat. Fat women get with hot guys, have friends, are healthy, are happy and live fun lives. I’ve never had a problem dating or sleeping with men in my life and I’ve been fat all my life. I’m also perfectly happy and don’t have intense self loathing about my body at all times. I also don’t constantly eat while crying, emotional or eat terrible food all the time (I could not continue with This is Us for these reasons). I get that some people do. But god this narrative is SO OLD. It feels old. I think the review or somewhere mentions ‘this is what a skinny person thinks a fat person thinks about all the time.’ Could not agree more. If you want a great book featuring a body positive fat girl that gets with two hot dudes read the book ‘Dumplin’ by Julie Murphy.
Welp, my single experience with reading Kristan Higgins (also DNF) kept this gem off my radar, thank gawd. Thank you, Sarah, for this brave review.
I also have dealt with weight issues all my life, and if I’m very honest, I admit that I have hateful thoughts towards others as well as myself. I struggle with this because I know it’s wrong to feel this way–not just in a moral/ethical sense but also in terms of simple accuracy. I absolutely don’t need to read something that reinforces my baser impulses. You know that song about teaching your children well? Well, my Mom had a fat hang up that I as the kid who couldn’t distinguish between word of Mom and word of God, just sucked up like a sponge. I didn’t even recognize this until a few years ago, but one of the accomplishments of my life is that I didn’t share this particular crap with my daughters. I still struggle with weight concerns, but at 67, I don’t much give a f*ck any more.
However, I was wondering if anyone else had a similar reaction to Wally Lamb’s She’s Come Undone? Cuz as a library worker who had to recommend stuff, I read the whole thing during the Oprah furor, and I thought that was some fat hating masterpiece there. My recommendations tended to start with: “It’s very well-written, but. . .” Now that I’m older I figure that life is too short to read books that cause pain to me or to others.
@PamG: I haaaaaaaated “She’s Come Undone” with a passion!!! I couldn’t get what was so great about that book, I honestly couldn’t. Then again, I felt that way about a lot of Oprah’s picks. Did they all have to be so depressing? Give me a good romance with a happy ending any day of the week.
Funny that we’re talking about the three heroines in this book are portrayed as hating themselves because of how they look. I just finished reading “Jane Doe” by Victoria Helen Stone based on a ton of recommendations, and one of the things that really got to me was how Jane never thought negatively about her looks. She worked with what she had and was satisfied. We need more heroines like that. (Er…heroines who think positively about their bodies, that is. They don’t have to be sociopaths in the bargain.)
@Em, I’m so glad you mentioned “This Is Us”–I watched literally one episode and noped out because as a fat woman, I could in absolutely NO WAY relate to the fat character. Yes, that might be the experience of an individual, but please, do not try to lump all of us under that umbrella, cause we don’t all fit (literally OR figuratively).
I stressed about weight as a young adult. And then I met a man who liked large ladies. And let me tell you, when there’s a guy (or girl) who thinks you’re the sexiest thing ever exactly how you are? It does WONDERS for your confidence!
I have never trusted or liked Kristan Higgins’s books. They seem very mean spirited in many ways. One was transphobic. There so many other things.
Heads up on another blog someone mentioned they were tramatised by a triggering scene in Now That You Mention It.
The “best” I’ve ever looked was after six months of living on coffee and bagels while I tried to get my freeloading ex out of my apartment. When he was finally out I caught the worst flu of my life and separated a rib from coughing. I don’t have the experience of having been super heavy, but I’ve felt that same “you don’t deserve it” vibe all my life, so … Fuck this book.
I was 14 the first time I was told I needed to lose weight. It was gym class during my freshman year of high school and we were being evaluated by our teachers. We gathered on the bleachers in the one gym the school had and waited for our teacher to call our name. Once called, we stood on a scale and our weight was recorded. Next, our height was measured and the two numbers were compared against each other. I’d watched girl after girl get an approving nod of the head before going back to sit with their friends. When it was my turn, my teacher looked me up and down before asking me to get on the scale. I couldn’t see the number, but the look on her face told me all I needed to know: she didn’t approve. After she took my height, she loudly proclaimed, “5’5 and 174lbs. You’re overweight.” None of the other girls had their height and weight called out. Just me. For the next 10 minutes she grilled me about the rest of my family, taking copious notes as I told her that we were all over weight. After finally being allowed to go back to my seat, the other girls wanted nothing to do with me. They parted like the Red Sea for Moses. I could hear them whispering about my “disease” and I struggled not to cry, to pretend that they didn’t bother me. I guess I did a good enough job of fooling them because the next thing I knew they were throwing gum at me. I ended up having to go to the school nurse to pick tiny pieces of gum out of my hair. She spent nearly 30 minutes pulling pieces out and I still had to get my hair cut because there was just too much to remove by hand. Until I stepped on that scale, those girls were my friends. We laughed together and gossiped about the newest episode of Friends or Buffy, but in the snap of a finger I was presona non grata. My fatness became my main identifier. I was the fat chick.
Nearly 20 years later and it still hurts. I trusted my gym teacher. I liked those girls. In a span of 10 minutes that all ended. That was the day I stopped being a person. It was the day I stopped trusting people. I only recently started making real friends, but I still have issues trusting them not to turn their backs on me if they learn things they don’t like about me.
I’m not surprised. I’ve always felt that Kristan Higgins books, while generally being fun to read, tend to pair her non-gorgeous heroines with utter assholes who treat their SOs like shit and never apologize for their actions. This seems like a logical progression from there.
This sounds much like the not-funny, not-satirical, vitriolic “Bimbos of the Death Sun” by Sharyn Mccrumb, which I couldn’t finish for all its meanness and condescension towards the characters, all those years ago.
Thanks for the heads-up!
Sarah – thank you for this review. And I appreciate the comments from other readers, as well. I will give this book a miss, although I must say, I’ve enjoyed many other of Kristan Higgins’ books, e.g. the Blue Heron series and others. BTW – I’ve meve never found the meanness that others seem to find in Kristan’s books. And I particularly liked her inclusion of pets. Please forgive the digression. But to get to the problem of fat…I’ve been overweight all of my life. In college, my accompanist cheerfully told me that if I lost 5 pounds, I “would be the most beautiful girl on campus.” And even though my mother has been dead since the mid 1990’s, I can still hear hear saying, “Oh, you can’t wear your good black coat, can you?” It’s still hurtful, even though we’re in a different century. I do better with eating now, often count carbs, not calories, and try to eat healthy. I also have long since stopped mourning the fact that I will never be a size 4.
Thank you for writing this review. While I personally had no intention to read it myself, I do appreciate the honesty and the fact that you got as far as you did with how this book was making you feel.
No book should ever make the reader feel what you felt and I can’t believe that this was published. I really can’t so thank you again for reviewing this book
I was disappointed, after I read this review, to find that this book is the Half Price Books August/September book club pick. Which means it is prominently featured in the stores and a lot of people will end up buying it.
I read and loved this book. It wasn’t an easy read, but I wasn’t looking for one. I’m a big girl–although not an Emerson, who, yes indeedy, did break my heart–and I identified easily with much of what I read. I never saw what I considered fat-shaming, other than that it happened to the characters in the book. Which it most certainly does. I think your review was fine because it was honest, but it sounds as if it kept so many people from trying it for themselves. And that’s a real shame.
Although I respect your review, I so wish you had finished the book. If you had, you might have come down in a different place. This book felt like KH had peeked into my soul, but not that she shamed ME or found ME lacking, rather that she revealed truths to the world about what it is to be “the fat girl.” I am a big woman–not Emerson-debilitated obese–but big. We all must learn to love ourselves for what and who are and to change those things about ourselves that make us unhappy, if it is within our power to do that. Higgins got that wonderful message across with her usual style and panache. I loved this book and I thank Kristin Higgins for writing it.
Anne here again. I don’t find it a shame that you didn’t finish the book and I don’t think it’s a shame that you kept people away from it. This book actively trigged a response in me that led to self-harm. If this review keeps even one person from doing the same, then I’m glad it exists. Thank you.
Anne: I hope you are in a safe and more secure place right now. Please take care of yourself. You are worth so much.
I can’t help but feel that someone who refers to a character as “debilitated-obese” is not someone whose opinion about the positive treatment of body images in the book is very convincing.
The idea (in several of the comments) that this book is a wonderful read for those strong enough to deal with tough subjects is really rude, not to mention self-righteous.
We can’t appreciate the art because we’re too weak to handle the subject? Well, A) Being able to and being willing to endure something are different things and B) what if some of us are delicate in our sensibilities on this subject?
Isn’t that the whole point of the review, to warn those who need or want to avoid ham-handed treatment of the subject? To help people make the right choice for themselves about reading it?
It just irks me that people who enjoyed this book keep insinuating that the only reason not to love it is an unwillingness to confront tough topics or a lack of strength to push through the pain to the (supposedly) positive ending.
Liking a book doesn’t make you morally superior, and it certainly doesn’t give you the right to be dismissive about others’ warnings.
Sorry, had to get that out. Thank you for the red flag, SB Sarah.
Kristan Higgins has a long track record of insulting marginalized people, both in her books (as noted above by Red Benton) and also in her personal actions. She seems a woman who enjoys martyring herself on her “service” to underrepresented communities. I mean, did you hear her acceptance speech at the RITAs? (eyeroll)
I am really sick of her fake identification with vulnerable groups. Kristan Higgins is not fat. In an interview with the New York Post, she talked about being fat–when she was 4. In her RITAs acceptance speech, she talked about how many diverse authors were unjustly snubbed–then she accepted the award.
Talk is cheap, Kristan Higgins. And yours isn’t even enlightened, well-thought-out, or in any way responsible. And regardless of how highly you seem to like to think of yourself, you are NOT an ally (so quit attention-seeking; it’s not about you). Most of all, please, please, please don’t take on big issues until you’re grown enough/woke enough to handle them. Leave books like this and impassioned speeches about equality to those who can write them well.
I loved this book. I am overweight, I thought I was overweight when I was a teenager (I wasn’t). I have felt like each of the women in this book.
I had a guy friend once tell me that I acted like I was ashamed of my body. I was. He response was: You have cleavage. Guys like that. Own it, don’t hide it. Don’t worry about anything else. Still working on that.
But, again, I loved this book! It may not be true for everyone. But parts of each character were true for me. (Including the “how did this happen?”, “okay, other me, here’s how it is.”, just seeing the bad, never seeing the good, finally realizing that I’m okay. But I still have not been in the all-together in front of my husband of 4 years. It’s a journey.
I have this book on my bookshelf to read. Putting it back. Thank you!!
I’ve been overweight for most of my adult life. I thought this book was excellent and stayed up until 2am to finish it. To me, the three characters represent three different ways of being fat in a society where being fat is often painful and difficult. All three of those characters have lived in my head at one time or another and I relate to almost everything they thought, felt, and went through.
I do agree this is a tough book to read and I included that warning when I recommended it to a friend. But for me it was truthful, powerful, and well worth reading.