Know My Name
There's something that feels a little off in reviewing someone's memoir about their sexual assault and the ensuing events, because I'm dealing with someone's trauma as an outsider, and I want to handle it thoughtfully. After reading Chanel Miller's account of her rape (and yes ... I call it rape, just as it should be called), I'm sensitized to how it must feel to have your character, words, thoughts and actions dissected and evaluated down to their minutiae by outside eyes. I respect her decision to share her experience and her real name with the entire world. She didn't have to give away her privacy and allow complete strangers to see into her pain from a crime so often marked for victims by undeserved stigma and shame. Those who've had their own traumatic experiences will likely find support and healing in her words; those who haven't, will hopefully find compassion and insight into others' suffering. In an ideal world, everyone would walk away from reading this changed at least a little for the better.
It's not an easy read - I'm not sure a book like this is meant to be "enjoyed". I will say that it's worth every second of the time it takes you to read it, though. You could walk away from reading this, disillusioned about the legal system and the inherent injustices and inequalities of world, but I think that would be missing Ms. Miller's ultimate point. She reminds us that beauty can bloom from darkness, that love exists around us every day, even when we may not be aware of it, and that we have purpose on this Earth, even when it comes in the most unexpected, and occasionally, painful ways.
★★★★ ½
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