Little Girls in Pretty Boxes: The Making and Breaking of Elite Gymnasts and Figure Skaters

by Joan Ryan

In this disturbing book, sports columnist Ryan exposes the tarnish beneath Olympic gold as she reveals heartbreaking stories of the physical and psychological abuse suffered by countless young girls driven to achieve Olympic medals. In harrowing detail, Ryan documents the preponderance of abuse, eating disorders, weakened bones, and damaged psyches that are often the result of intensive training. 16-page photo insert.

Genres: Nonfiction, Sports, Figure Skating, Feminism, Adult, Audiobook, Mental Health

243 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1995

Reviews

[Crumb · Rating 3 out of 5]

An eye-opening account of the rigorous and often abusive training methods that elite gymnasts and ice-skaters endure in hopes of claiming an elusive Olympic medal. This book detailed the unavoidable eating disorders, injuries, and overbearing parents that skaters and gymnasts face. There were anecdotes about the rise and fall of famous athletes such as Shannon Miller, Kim Zmeskal, and Betty Okino. This book did exactly what it set out to do: Expose what the world of elite gymnastics and ice-skating is really like, behind all the glitz and glam. It was a little slow in some parts, but overall I think it did an excellent job of providing the reader with an inside look into this secret society.

The book focused a lot on the militaristic coaching technique that Bela Karolyi implemented. To me, it seemed flat out abusive. The long-term effects of intensive training can have devastating outcomes on a gymnast or ice skater, both mentally and physically.

Here are some pictures of the gymnasts:

Shannon Miller


Betty Okino


Kim Zmeskal


Dominique Moceanu


Chelle Stack


And finally, in memory of Julissa Gomez. She left the world far too soon..

(November 4, 1972 – August 8, 1991)

[PinkAmy loves books, cats and naps · Rating 5 out of 5]

Twenty years before most of us heard the name Larry Nassar, the Gymnastics who molested over 150 gymnasts and other athletes, journalist Joan Ryan wrote LITTLE GIRLS IN PRETTY BOXES about the often dark secrets behind competitive gymnastics and figure skating. I still gave my copy from 1995 which I read cover to cover the day it was released.

I’ve been a Gymnastics and figure skating super-fan since watching Olga Korbut, then Nadia Comaneci. I wrote a fan letter to Tai and Randy and thought life couldn’t get any better when Randy responded. LITTLE GIRLS IN PRETTY BOXES both crushed my fantasy of perfect girls effortlessly twisting their bodies in unimaginable ways by showing the abusive coaches, the eating disorders, crushed self esteem, intimidation and lack of regard these girls and young women endured. Some didn’t survive their sports.

Ryan interviewed athletes, family, trainers , used news reports and footage show the tears behind the smiles and presented the stories in a compulsive readable chapters that had me wanting an update.

With the news of Larry Nassar’s crimes and USA Gymnastics complicity, Joan Ryan or somebody else needs to write the next chapter in the failure of USAG and the USOC to protect its athletes from predators. Sadly, Bela Karoli’s emotional abuse of young gymnasts is clearly documented and well known internationally. Officials led the public to believe when Marta took over as USAG team coach, the sport had turned away from its abusive past to a gentler, more humane way of training athletes **children** trying to pursue their dreams of Olympic glory tumbling toward the gold.

ETA I also enjoyed the audiobook.

[Praise Reads · Rating 4 out of 5]

Behind the glitter, medals, and polished routines, this book reveals a world that feels far harsher than it first appears.

Little Girls in Pretty Boxes: The Making and Breaking of Top Gymnasts and Figure Skaters by Joan Ryan takes a close look at the culture surrounding elite women’s gymnastics and figure skating in the United States. Through interviews, reporting, and real athlete experiences, the book examines the physical and emotional pressures placed on young girls chasing perfection in highly competitive sports.

What made this such an uncomfortable read was how normal some of the harmful behavior had become within these systems. The constant focus on body image, obedience, and performance creates an atmosphere that feels deeply unhealthy, even when success is being celebrated. I found myself getting angry at certain moments, not because the author exaggerated anything, but because the stories felt painfully believable.

Joan Ryan writes in a straightforward way that keeps the focus on the athletes themselves rather than sensationalism. The book moves through multiple examples and personal accounts, which helps build a larger picture of the culture. At times, though, the structure feels repetitive since many experiences echo similar patterns of pressure and control.

The themes around ambition, exploitation, identity, and sacrifice are difficult to ignore. Even though the book was originally published in the 1990s, parts of it still feel relevant today, especially considering ongoing conversations about athlete treatment and abuse in competitive sports.

I’m rating this 4 out of 5 stars.

It’s informative, upsetting, and worth reading for anyone interested in sports culture or the hidden costs behind elite competition, even if the repetitive structure occasionally weakens the momentum.

[dianne b. · Rating 4 out of 5]

“The anachronistic lack of ambivalence about femininity in both sports is part of their attraction, hearkening back to a simpler time when girls were girls, when women were girls for that matter: coquettish, malleable, eager to please.”

I will certainly never look at Olympic gymnastics or figure skating the same way. As these sports become more difficult (triple jumps are the norm) they literally rule out having grown women as participants.
“The physical skills have become so demanding that only a body shaped like a missile…a body shaped like a boy’s can excel. Breasts and hips slow the spins, lower the leaps and disrupt the clean, lean body lines that judges reward.”

In 1976 the US Olympic gymnasts averaged 17.5 years old, stood 5’3.5” and weighed 106 pounds. That was before Karolyi.
By 1992 they were: 16 years old, 4’9”, and a whopping 83 lbs.

The coaches, especially in gymnastics and exemplified by the archevil Karolyi (the Romanian coach transplanted to Houston, Texas) have become crazed and abusive, demanding complete subservience. One of the reasons they prefer their gymnasts young: “It is far easier to work with small, mute creatures who look at a coach as an idol and perform everything without ever talking back.”

The necessity to remain essentially prepubescent in shape (and mentation) leads, of course, to eating disorders and psychological abuse.
“And there is no creature on earth more desperate for approval than a girl inching toward puberty….she is a mass of insecurities looking for an identity.”

Karolyi used this cruelly. He called his finest gymnasts idiots, cockroaches, pigs, pathetic, pregnant spiders or gravid goats, overstuffed Christmas turkeys, among other hurtful and damaging names. “He was successful in great part because he had no conscience as a coach.”

One young gymnast who left Karolyi due to his abuse, unfortunately did not escape - her mother called another coach (Steve Nunno): “Get her up here right now, Nunno warned. If she steps out of the gym, she’ll see what she’s missing and you might never get her back.” The mother put the young anorexic and bulimic gymnast on a plane the next day.

This mother, who had often sent her daughter to the gym despite fever, stomach aches, even the flu, later spoke of her obsession: “It was to the point where if one girl quit the gym, you wouldn’t let your daughter spend time with her. You didn’t want her to find out there was more to life.”

Years later this ex-gymnast, still struggling with severely disordered eating, said: “My appearance was the number one thing I was concerned about. If I didn’t look the way somebody wanted me to look, then I must not be that great.”

Another parent recognized in retrospect what he had done… “It was child abuse what we did, what the coaches did. It was the psychology of war: stripping people of their egos so they can go out and kill somebody.”

These two ridiculous sports demand absolute fealty and perfection.
“Most sports build in a cushion for failure, an opportunity for redemption”. Runners and swimmers can make up for a bad start by being faster later on in the race. Pole vaulters and high jumpers get 3 attempts to clear a height. Long jumpers get 6 tries. Gymnasts and skaters get one shot - any flaw, tiny as it might be, in any part of their routine - can shatter their life’s dream. Not to mention their sense of self - as most of these young girls have been made to feel that their performance determines their worth.

Worse yet - skaters are judged on punctuality, ethics, appearance, and rapport with other skaters, coaches and judges. How is that athletic? Can you imagine what would happen if appearance and amiability were applied to the NBA, the NFL or MLB? “Damn, we’ll have to fire that fantastic shortstop; he’s simply not cute, he argued once with a player on the Giants, and I think I see a zit.”
How’re those hockey players getting along with the opposing team?
Don’t get me started on how I would judge the sweetness and appearance of the Packer’s defensive line. ‘Nuf said - it is ridiculous. I vote for taking silly, subjective and impossible requirements out of these “sports”.

Overall an important and incredibly readable book. Suggested for anyone interested in the development of girls as they become women.

*********************
May 2024 addendum:

An update to this seems needed now that the USA, the Biden administration, has just dismantled Title IX. I competed in gymnastics in high school - not because that was my dream but because, if you wanted to do "a sport" it was that, or badminton. I would have loved to play soccer, but all the fields were for boys. It was before Title IX which in 1972, declared:

“No person in the United States shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any education program or activity receiving Federal financial assistance.”

Genocide Joe has now added 'TransWomen' (remember that includes any man, or boy, who simply SAYS he is a woman) to Title IX. That means full access to competing in women's / girl's sports, changing in their locker rooms, etc.

shewon (dot) org is a website that documents female athletes who were displaced by males in women’s sporting events and other types of competitions expressly for women. Many of these young women would have paid their way to college with these, now lost, scholarships. 

Is there a reason men and women compete in different leagues? I think we all know it is ridiculous for men to play in women's leagues. And more than a little dangerous.

I loved watching my daughter play soccer in high school, but would I have allowed her to do so if I knew young men had free access to the locker room?  To the open showers? Would you?

And before you say "not all men" or "not all transwomen"...how many does it take? How does the presence of one intact man in your locker room change the ambiance? To create an unsaid but real threat?  To change the level of safety, of sisterhood, of security - even before something terrible happens?

And, importantly, why is it always women and girls who must lose their hard won rights and safety to assuage men's "feelings"?

I thought Title IX gave the females that followed me a huge gift - access to playing fields, coaches, and equipment, to team sports (beyond badminton).  Something important. Now I am seeing that, along with choice over basic reproductive freedoms, melt away.

Think I'll write in "my cat" for President in November.

[Audrey · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was written in 1995 and is in seriously need of a new edition. It has extra forewards and afterwards but needs updating. It looks at gymnastics (and figure skating a little bit) in the 1980s and early 90s, before the Larry Nassar scandal broke. A look at these gymnasts now, as well as gymnastics since 2000, would be really interesting.

The book is very gripping and hard to put down. It recounts many anecdotes and explores the different aspects of the sports, from coaches to judges to audiences expecting more and more death-defying stunts. It’s structured very well, which can be tricky for nonfiction.

The drive to win at all costs is putting a toll on young girls’ bodies and mental health. They train 6-8 hours a day, many dropping out of school to do it. They train through injuries, leading to stunted growth and a lifetime of pain. They face abuse by coaches and siblings. Families suffer as siblings of a rising star get neglected and parents get divorced. There is no tolerance for error in judging, and audiences demand more and more death-defying stunts over time. The book got a lot of criticism when published, but I think the points it raises are valid.

I was looking at videos and bios on the Internet while reading this book, and there are a lot of people sexualizing super young athletes. It’s really disturbing. Also, if you watch the videos closely, you can see ankles, knees, and wrists wrapped in bandages almost every time.

=======
Both sports embody the contradiction of modern womanhood. Society has allowed women to aspire higher, but to do so a woman must often reject that which makes her female, including motherhood. Similarly, gymnastics and figure skating remove the limits of a girl’s body, teaching it to soar beyond what seems possible. Yet they also imprison it, binding it like the tiny Victorian waist or the Chinese woman’s foot. The girls aren’t allowed passage into adulthood. To survive in sports, they beat back puberty, desperate to stay small and thin, refusing to let their bodies grow up. In this way the sports pervert the very femininity they hold so dear. The physical skills have become so demanding that only a body shaped like a missile—in other words, a body shaped like boy’s—can excel. Breasts and hips slow the spins, lower the leaps, and disrupt the clean, lean body lines that judges reward. “Women’s gymnastics” and “ladies’ figure skating” are misnomers today. Once the athletes become women, their elite careers wither.

Starving shuts down the menstrual cycle—the starving body knows it cannot support a fetus—and thus blocks the onset of puberty. It’s a dangerous strategy to save a career. If a girl isn’t menstruating, she isn’t producing estrogen. Without estrogen, her bones weaken. She risks stunting her growth. She risks premature osteoporosis. She risks fractures in all bones, including her vertebrae, and she risks curvature of the spine. In several studies over the last decade, young female athletes who didn’t menstruate were found to have the bone densities of postmenopausal women in their fifties, sixties, and seventies. Most elite gymnasts don’t begin to menstruate until they retire.

Almost imperceptible mistakes can spell doom in gymnastics. The margin for error is as thin as a judge’s pencil. The gap between gold and silver in the all-around at the 1992 Olympics was 12/1000 of a point. A bobble, a hesitation. Most sports build in a cushion for failure, an opportunity for redemption. Runners who slip in the starting blocks and swimmers who get a slow jump can make up for their mistakes during the race if they are fast enough. Pole vaulters and high jumper gets six jumps to register his best distance. A tennis player gets two serves, a batter three strikes, a quarterback four downs. Gymnasts and figure skaters get one shot. A rut in the ice, a moment of doubt, can shatter a life’s dream in an instant.

Gymnasts and figure skaters, however, withstand another layer of pressure unknown to most other athletes. They must be perfect, not merely excellent. Their bodies must be perfectly lean. Their hair must be perfectly coiffed, their behavior perfectly polite, their movements perfectly precise. Both sports grade on a scale that beings at perfection—6.0 for skating, 10.0 for gymnastics—and drops with each mistake.

“We have to figure out what our goals are,” says Olympic medalist Bart Conner, who considers many of Karolyi’s detractors hypocrites. “If we want a team that looks nice in their uniforms, that isn’t under all this stress, that isn’t playing with pain, that isn’t risking injury, then we’re not going to win.”

Coaches who claim they are paid to produce gymnasts and figure skaters and nothing more are betraying a trust implicit in the mentor-student relationship. Coaches of elite children’s sports, by spending the bulk of every day with their athletes, can influence these children more than their parents or their teachers at school. The coaches become role models whether they want to or not. Their words and actions can profoundly affect the long-term physical and emotional health of their athletes, making the job too rife with the possibilities of abuse to allow it to continue unregulated.

Gymnasts who train more than sixteen hours a week are at high risk for repetitive stress fractures, most dangerously in the back. Most elite gymnasts train between thirty and forty-five hours a week, and nearly all complain of back pain. … The muscles of children can develop and strengthen like those of adults, allowing them to perform difficult maneuvers, but their bones do not keep pace.

========

Language: Clean
Sexual Content: Discussions of puberty; brief mentions of sexual abuse
Violence/Gore: Descriptions of injuries can be disturbing
Harm to Animals: None
Harm to Children: Emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse; stunted growth, many injuries
Other (Triggers): eating disorders, suicide, death from injuries, family dysfunction

[stephanie · Rating 4 out of 5]

more about gymnasts than figure skaters, i read the version that included the 2000 epilogue. which is great, because the first version was written in 1995, before the americans won gold in atlanta. i'd still like to read a more recent book on gymnastics/ice-skating, but wonder if the fact that the country has had more success in the olympic arena has pushed down the urge to write about it.

there's a lot of heart-break in this book. girls who died as a result of bad vaults, or extreme eating disorders. competing broken and battered at the age of 15. thinking your life is over at 17.

in a way, i never thought of after, that they do retard their body growth so much that they never turn into physical adults. and when your career is over at 18, 22, and you have bone problems and hurt all over, what do you do? when you are done with gymnastics, or gymnastics is done with you - what options do you have? i mean, we know shannon miller won heaps of medals, but what is her life like now?

anyway, this is a really good, incisive, non-apologetic look at the sports and the risks and things that we don't want to hear about. i think the most shocking chapters were about the parents, who either made the problem worse or refused to see anything - who still can't give up the dream, and the coaches.

i will never look at bela karolyi the same way. i think that's good, but it makes me a little sad that he isn't the big bear hugging personality he seems to be. but it makes me more sad to think how many little girls are sent to his gym because their parents see him that way too, and then their girls are torn apart.

[N · Rating 1 out of 5]

Little Girls In Pretty Boxes, Joan Ryan's exposé on women's gymnastics and figure skating, is a brutal read. It starts with an account of a teenage girl who broke her neck while performing on the vault, and it doesn't get any cheerier.

The book is well-written enough to be engaging, but it's so excessively negative in tone that it inevitably caused my hackles to rise. I suppose any exposé is likely to be biased, but Ryan seems so biased against gymnastics/skating that I inevitably found myself playing devil's advocate, despite having no stake in either sport.

Ryan leaves no room for the reader to make up her own mind as to whether the gruelling training and risks involved in the sports are worthwhile. Her answer is NO NO NO, NO WAY. It turns what could have been a thoughtful piece of journalism into a depressing polemic.

[Meave · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not nearly as tawdry as promised. In the prologue it was all sexual abuse and this and that all over the place, but the book was mostly eating disorders and injuries. Eating disorders, eh, the ways losing 10 pounds in a week affect your gymnastics skills, no surprise there. Maybe it was more shocking in 1995 when this book was published.

The effects of hardcore training on little bitty bodies, that was pretty horrifying, and how nearly all coaches everywhere were all WORK THROUGH PAIN & INJURY OR GO TO BABIES' GYM, FATTY LAZY SPIDER PIG-DOG, rough times. Still, I think it's the parents' fault here and they do not get enough blame in the book. How any parent could this kind of invective screamed at his/her itsy bitsy daughter (it's always girls! HA HA abused little lambs!) and continue to pay the screamer $1k per month (in mid-90s dollars!) to continue to scream at said daughter: it is time to call CPS and give the girl to a relative because you clearly do not have her best interests at heart. And the coaches? Clearly inhuman.

She touches on figure skating a little, but not much; mostly she makes fun of Nancy Kerrigan for being nearly as white trash as Tonya Harding, but because she was the bashed instead of the basher, and because she chose to play the game instead of fight it, she became a golden girl and got married at Disney on Ice dressed as Snow White and nobody remembers her family is all blue-collar beer-drinking pretzel-eating football fans, because figure skaters are born of pixie dust, angels' tears, and the teeny slivers of ice sheered off the rink when another skater lands a perfect jump.

Anyway, I wasn't looking forward to reading about child abuse, I just felt that the prologue was misleading, and the bits about figure skating ought to have been saved for another book, so that she could have gone further into gymnastics. It was too short. STILL: well written, obviously well researched, she got amazing quotes from almost every single person she mentions, and although the foreshadowing tends toward heavy-handedness, she weaves a bunch of stories into a hideous tapestry of abuse abuse abuse. Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be gymnasts. Unless they start later, around age six, and promise not to compete higher than college-level.

[Jen · Rating 4 out of 5]

as a former gymnast (although nowhere near elite), this book petrified me. it's hard to believe what young girls and their parents are willing to sacrifice to be the best. i'm going to find it really hard to indulge my guilty pleasure of watching gymnastic and ice skating competitions on tv after this enlightening read.

[Roz · Rating 4 out of 5]

Who knew gymnastics was so horrifying?

Joan Ryan’s Little Girls in Pretty Boxes is a chilling, sobering look at the world of women’s gymnastics, where the coaches yell and taunt at young gymnasts while their parents overlook – or exaggerate – the abuse, creating a culture of destroyed confidence, eating disorders an. It’s an unflattering portrait.

Ryan tells of the sad fates of several promising girls who were sucked into this world by their talent, chewed up and used by ego-driven coaches and, once they proved too weak or useless for coaches, disgarded like scraps, often the worse for wear.

It’s names like Julissa Gomez and Christy Henrich who resonate throughout the book. All young gymnast prodigies, all three were quickly brought down by it’s envrioment – Gomez broke her neck in a risky routine and was dead by 19, Henrich developed an eating disorder likely brought on by over-zealous coaches and starved herself to death. Ryan brings their and many other grim stories into deadly sharp focus, squarely planting the blame at coaches.

It’s these coaches, she writes, that have created and fostered an environment that’s extraordinarily detrimental to these young athletes. The average age, weight and size of gymnasts has plummeted (Ryan says it’s gone from Womens’ gymnastics to girls’).

Ryan saves the worst for coaches like Bela Karolyi or Rick Newman who have pushed cruel, Eastern Bloc-influenced coaching methods to the forefront to create winners. Their gyms often feature long, harsh training sessions and verbal abuse from coaches push these young athletes past their mental and physical limits – insults about the weight of these girls is not uncommon. Ryan writes of many cases of girls breaking down, both mentally and physically – stress fractures and broken wrists seem almost scarily common in these gyms.

This isn’t to place the blame squarely on coaches, however. Ryan also writes of parents blinded by the dream of an Olympian daughter who look past whatever problems their kids have and often convince their children to keep competing. They refinace their houses, they take second jobs and move across the country to go to these gyms where maybe a coach will mould their daughter into a winner. Ryan summarizes their ambition by asking what do their parents value more: their daughter being healthy or winning?

But it’s winning that often blinds everybody, the coaches, the parents and especially the athletes themselves who do everything to win, regardless of the risk. Ryan’s book is a sobering, chilling look at what these drive to win-at-any-cost has done to these young athletes. It should be required reading for any parent looking to put their kid in figure skating, gymnastics or the like.

[Eli · Rating 3 out of 5]

an explosive and uncompromising exposé on women’s gymnastics (+ a little bit on figure skating - feels somewhat disjointed - she should have maybe stuck to gymnastics) that skewers abuse in the sport, while also accepting far too many of the tenets it purports to criticise. this is a book that fully believes in the lie of the underweight, prepubertal girl as the ‘ideal’ gymnast - it just criticises what it takes to produce that ideal. amazing how the progression of women’s gymnastics in the decades since its publication (esp in america) have proven ryan both so right and so wrong.

also, the book worships thinness even as it decries eating disorders - lots of mentions of specific weights and beautiful thin princess girls. unsurprisingly, the book includes a strangely out-of-place interlude where ryan is astonishingly cruel about tonya harding.

it is genuinely terrifying that bela karolyi wormed his way out of this shit that man should be in jail

[Ashley · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was published in 1995. Larry Nassar had already abused his first of hundreds of victims. A coach featured prominently in this book, because two of his gymnasts DIED, is still coaching gymnasts *this weekend* at the U.S. national championships. We need to pay better attention.

[Angie Orlando · Rating 5 out of 5]

Joan Ryan is a journalist who knows her stuff, and knows how to write. This is another book that focuses on the dark side of elite gymnastics... and also figure skating. Ryan does a fantastic job of supporting her conclusions with statistics from university studies, interviews with experts, coaches and team mates and especially the dramatic, heart breaking stories of the girls and their family... Those who didn't make it, whether from injury, eating disorders, abusive coaches or all of the about and more. This book was written a year before the 1996 Summer Olympics in which the so called "Magnificent Seven" won the gymnastics team gold. I can only wonder what Ryan thought about that, and wish she'd write another book about the more recent "stars."

[Tania · Rating 4 out of 5]

In the worlds of elite women's gymnastics and figure skating, female athletes must complete ever more dangerous skills to stay on top. They are surrounded by coaches and doctors and in most cases parents who should protect them from harm while they seek to excel in their sport. Unfortunately throughout the 80's and 90's these young athletes, most under the age of 18, had more to fear from their so-called protectors than from any other aspect of their careers. Journalist Joan Ryan explores the trend of younger, smaller, lighter gymnasts and figure skaters beginning with Nadia Comaneci's triumph in the mid-70's and escalating with her coach Bela Karolyi's defection to the USA in the 80s. Interviews with elite gymnasts and their parents uncover horror stories of the quest for Olympic greatness gone wrong. I have no doubt that there are other athletes and parents who successfully navigated the shark-infested waters of elite gymanstics and figure skating, but I also do not question the stories presented here or the impact that these events and experiences had on these young girls. Ryan set out to uncover the seedier side of these sports, and with that she succeeded. Her investigation into the toll these sports take on their promising young talent is devestating in what it reveals.

Ryan brings us an inside look at gymnasts we remember, and those we don't. Perhaps the thought process here could be that those were athletes who didn't make the cut - but the important story behind these competitors is that they were set up for failure by parents, coaches, and even doctors who ignored major injuries, eating disorders, crumbling self-esteem, and exhaustion in the name of Olympic gold. Should we as a country be allowing child abuse in order to count ourselves among the top performing nations in the world in these sports? We put in labor laws to keep children from working more than x hours per week based on age, and yet we do not put in any laws that would keep them from practicing upwards of 40 hours a week. Some would say that its not our place to stop these children from becoming great at their craft, however experts question whether these extreme methods of training really do give them an edge or just break their bodies down at alarming speeds.

Sadly I didn't find the stories in this book surprising; I find it completely believable, particularly after the Nassar story broke, that the adults who should be protecting young athletes are instead turning a blind eye to anything that would stop their march towards Olympic greatness. We are taught from a young age that competition is king and injury and pain are for the weak - even those of us not in any sort of elite competition are encouraged to work through pain and tiredness, to keep going and finish what we've started. How much worse must that be when so much money and prestige is on the line? The facts that Ryan shares are plain - the gymnasts who broke down and suffered permanent injury, those who even died in the pursuit of their dreams, and those who have survived with many scars can't be ignored. Some parents have since understood their role in the process, while others remain in denial, but ultimately the victims are the young athletes. Some of these girls/women may have made it to their pinnacle of their sport with Olympic victories, but many of them did not and were casualties to be forgotten and cast off by the adults who used them to achieve greatness.

The book had a few issues. Much more time was given to gymnastics than figure skating, though they were billed equally as subjects, and as the book progressed the author begin using repetitive examples rather than drawing on new material. Still, the narrative had the impact it needed to impress upon the reader the changes that were needed in these sports. Ryan spelled out just how we'd come to this point, and the effects that it was having on the children and families who got caught up in the glitter of that elusive Olympic gold medal. She called out the problematic adults involved and the issues with the system. Little Girls in Pretty Boxes is well-written and very pointed in its revelations.

I read the updated version of this book with additions to the prologue and the new ending chapter. Ryan shared the positive changes made since the initial publication and the fall-out of the 1992 Olympics. Certainly the changes in the appearance and attitude of the athletes in the intervening years has been a tangible result. The memoirs written by those women and their subsequent careers on tour and with television shows such as Dancing with the Stars show them to be more well-adjusted than the cautionary tales shared in the pages of this book. It's unfortunate that with all that said, we still could not (or did not) protect future athletes from the disgusting predators who were recently exposed. While the material in this book is more than 20 years old, it's obviously still relevant as we continue to see abuses come to light.

[Dani Kass · Rating 5 out of 5]

I grew up with gymnastics. Never competing, never being anything resembling good at it, but loving to cartwheel down long hallways and hold handstands in the outfield of softball games. It never stopped being fun.

I’ve never been so grateful that it wasn’t something I took seriously and tried to compete in as when I was reading Little Girls in Pretty Boxes.

The book is a journalistic investigation into child abuse in elite gymnastics and figure skating. It was published in 1995, meaning it’s a bit out of date and focused on athletes I didn’t grow up with, but it still felt like a vital read.

Joan Ryan interviews a wide array of former elite gymnasts, figure skaters, parents, coaches and national organization officials trying to understand how these sports turned into a breeding ground for child abuse.

“Women’s” gymnastics and figure skating are the only sports where a nation’s Olympic expectations fall on young teenagers, as even male Olympic gymnasts are usually college-aged. These are the most popular Olympic events, and the ones that require absolute perfection, providing deductions for the tiniest of errors and only giving athletes one chance to meet that goal. The pressure is enormous and leads to athletes and those that are supposed to be taking care of them turning to extreme measures.

The girls have to stop puberty before hips and breasts weigh them down and make them heavier. To keep that girlish figure, they stop eating or throw up or swallow laxatives by the bottle, encouraged or overlooked by parents and coaches just focused on glory. It doesn’t matter that this can cause a lifetime of harm.

The book is a deep look into the methods championed by Bela Karolyi, who used emotional abuse, namely fear and guilt, to make girls compete despite serious injuries, punish themselves for not being perfect at all times, practice without food because they were constantly berated for being fat (even though none reached 100 pounds) and made their parents go even further down the rabbit hole than they were.

There were girls who died from anorexia and broken necks, all because they were so obsessed with chasing an Olympic gold and their coaches never treated them like actual people, like the actual little children they are.

Ryan goes into the psychology of how parents go from good intentions into further hurting their children, the lack of regulation that allows coaches to get away with such conduct, the insane judging style (especially in figure skating) that allows this all to proceed and the public perception that, to some, makes all this worth it.

Even today, Karolyi is considered a hero for the Olympians he has produced, remembered more for the proud hugs he gave athletes on TV than for the incredible abuse that has been widely known for decades now.

The book left me desperate to know how much of this is still accurate. Today’s gymnasts look healthier than previous ones ever had, but then the national team’s doctor just got sentenced for sexually abusing more than 200 girls. To top it off, there were so many people in charge who knew about his conduct and chose to do absolutely nothing.

I could go on and on detailing the finding, many of which are now pretty well known anyway, so I’ll move on to the quality of the book itself.

For the most part, it’s brilliantly written. Ryan does a great job of weaving personal stories into a larger picture and making the book truly flow. She suffers from repetitiveness at times, but I’m choosing not to fault her too much for that.

The weakest part of the book was describing the Kerrigan/Harding attack. The entire section is awkwardly written, like Ryan couldn’t get interviews and so instead just drew a bunch of conclusions and expanded on them without the wealth of evidence she had in previous chapters. The attack itself was also referenced so many times as something that had already been described when it wasn’t detailed until quite late in the chapter.

My last complaint was that this book is sold as both gymnastics and figure skating, when it’s really 75 percent gymnastics. I wanted just a bit more depth on the figure skating. But even then, I learned so much from that 25 percent.

Those complaints are nitpicking because it really was a fantastic work that I would highly recommend across the board.

[Theresa Leone Davidson · Rating 2 out of 5]

Joan Ryan wrote a book, largely anecdotal, but with the findings of a few studies to back her up, about the harm done to girls, not those who simply learn gymnastics or figure skating, but those who are in the 'elite' class of either sport. This is an important distinction, as Ryan writes that girls who take gymnastics or figure skate learn a lot about competitiveness, self-esteem, and discipline, but for those few who fall into the elite category (the ones who practice for three hours starting at 5 a.m., go to school, then practice again from 3 p.m. until 9, the ones who are striving only for the Olympics because nothing less will suffice, the ones whose parents spend tens of thousands of dollars on coaches, or uproot their families so they can practice under a specific coach) for these girls, Ryan argues, more harm than good is done. If this book is at all interesting, it is because it is like driving by a terrible auto accident; you can not help but look out of some sick fascination, especially for those parents who are the ultimate stage parents, wanting their children to succeed to make up for their own pathetic mediocrity. Not all parents, of course, of elites are like that but the majority are, and you don't need a full length book to tell you that people aren't the greatest parents if they allow their ten year olds to work that hard, to practice even against medical advice, as so many do, to be humiliated and belittled by demanding coaches. This would have been a great full-length article; making it into a full-length book was unnecessary. And, one more minor point, I really liked everything the author had to say about the values of our country, how beauty often trumps skill, how youth is often valued more than experience, etc., and how she believes, of course, that our priorities are completely wrong because of this. But for whatever reason, I happened to notice the author's age, 59, when the book was published, and even allowing for it being written a few years before that, maybe when she was, say, 55 or 56, why is there a picture on the back flap of a woman no older than 35? Could it be that those screwy priorities are HER priorities, or her publisher's? Interesting...but still, not interesting enough to recommend it.

[Mommy Taco · Rating 4 out of 5]

CW: if you have an eating disorder or are not absolutely rock solid in your recovery, proceed with extreme caution. 

The fact that 20 years later this culture of abusive coaching is still the norm is absolutely horrifying. The fact that the abuse in this book was just the tip of the iceberg is even more horrifying.

I do think that the layout of the book needed some tweaking and the figure skating portions needed more fleshing out, but overall no book this year had me screaming at adults through my phone as much as this one. She does a great job of capturing the desperation and fear of these athletes and reminding us over and over that they are CHILDREN. We're willing to sacrifice the lives of children for what? "Being an Olympian is forever".... So is PTSD, osteoporosis, chronic pain, and suicide.

My daughter did gymnastics for a few years. She has a lot of talent and is naturally tiny, but like most kids she wanted to quit when it stopped being fun for her. We vascillated between pushing her to continue or letting her quit and finally realized that sports SHOULD be fun for kids. I've never been so happy to be raising a quitter!

[meowdeleine]

Madeleine. Madeleine. Hard work is not enough. Stoicism is not enough. Being the perfect woman - young, beautiful, refined, glamorous, smart but not wise, wholesomely sexy, and, of course, thin - is not enough. Don't get involved with those men or their prizes. None of them are going to save you. None of them are going to fight for you. None of them are going to see you beyond what you can be for them. Do your stretches, sweat every day, and continue to believe in your work and your body. Love yourself with as much power of heart, mind, soul, and strength as you can muster every day. You are already beautiful, smart, strong, and capable. I love you. And out of our love we will remake the world. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1m...

[Laura Skladzinski · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fascinating look at the two most popular women's (girls') events in the Olympics, and how the expectations on these athletes are so different than on athletes in other sports. I now feel a little bit guilty for loving ladies' figure skating and gymnastics so much, especially since I follow the stereotype of being even more delighted the younger and smaller the girls are. I just wish this were written a little bit more recently, to learn more about how the trend has continued over the last decade.

[Zaji · Rating 1 out of 5]

One thing I must point out: If there is anyone who wishes to find out more about the sport of gymnastics, please, DO NOT read this book for advice. Seriously. Only read this book if you want to learn about how the sport has negatively impacted the lives of young girls. I have agreed with little of what the author said, and most, if not all, of the book irritated me. It was filled with horrible stories of athletes who went into a downward spiral from gymnastics and figure skating, abusive coaches, and bad parenting. Through these few examples, what I got out of this book is that Joan Ryan is saying gymnastics is terrible. Which is completely untrue.
I appreciate the amount of research she put into this book. However, the repeated stories of young girls having "destroyed" lives from these two sports, their sad stories, and the hard coaching just got to be too much. And in a book, you can only have so much of just one thing before it gets old. For me, it certainly did. Now I don't want to sound like a gymnastics snob or anything, but for this person to make a conclusion based on the handful of stories she researched and not have any personal experience with either of the sports herself (she's a sports columnist) I don't think it is very fair for her to have an opinion on the entirety of the sports based on these few stories, and I also don't think it is wise to read this book if you want to find out more about what they're like.
She has repeatedly indicated that you get little rewards from the sport of gymnastics. That is completely untrue. Even though I quit the sport a year and a few months ago (I wanted to get more into dance; my life wasn't ruined by it or anything), I have many, many things I'm proud of and a lot of great memories. I'm not saying this is true for everyone. There are those who, much like the girls in the book, have/had very bad experiences with the sport, which I acknowledge. But really, that's not all gymnastics is. Yes, the coaching can be hard; no, it is not always ruthless and abusive. Yes, families can get consumed by the sport; no, not all will be so consumed as to abuse their children. And yes, some can become conscious of their weight during elite gymnastics; no, not all gymnasts will become anorexic. If you want a reliable opinion on either of the sports, talk to someone with real experience. You know something the best if you know it personally. I am sorry to say I won't be recommending this book to anyone.
Also, it is a little outdated.

[Lexi · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love gymnastics. I think it’s an incredible sport. However it’s important to also acknowledge how many terrible things come out it. For so many years it seemed like a lot of fans wanted to completely disregard the horror stories and write them off as isolated cases. Now, with revelations about widespread abuse with USA Gymnastics it’s impossible to ignore.

This book was initially published in 1995 and detailed horrific ways that young girls were being treated by some of the top coaches in the countries. Names were named but those coaches kept on coaching because they were “the best.” It didn’t matter that there were stories of them verbally abusing gymnasts, sometimes physically abusing them, forcing them to compete with major injuries, and weighing them or berating them about their weight constantly.

There are some truly heartbreaking stories in this book. Stories about girls who broke their neck and were paralyzed for the rest of their lives. Stories about girls who developed eating disorders because of the constant criticism from coaches and judges. Stories about girls who were never able to recover from their eating disorders and ended up passing away as a result. Stories about girls who felt so worthless because they were considered “failures” that they attempted suicide.

This book isn’t entirely about gymnastics, it also talks about abuse and corruption in figuring skating. However gymnastics does take up the majority of the book. I wasn’t as interested in the sections about figure skating. Not because they were bad, just because I’m so much more of a gymnastics fan.

I hope somebody is writing a scathing exposé of current day USA Gymnastics. It seems like little has changed in the time that this book was first published. With the crimes coming to light it seems like the right time to finally blow the doors off that organization and expose every slimy, corrupt person who abused gymnasts and the people who sheltered abusers and allowed them to thrive for years.

[Susie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Finished this a couple weeks ago and forgot to update. This book is pretty old- but just goes to show that the Karolyis and the culture at USAG was toxic from the beginning and they created an environment that allowed Larry Nassar to do all the horrible things he did.

[V · Rating 4 out of 5]

As a former gymnast I found this stuff fascinating... and since I knew several of the gymnast the book spoke about it got even more interesting. There is a lot of truth in there, but of course, it focusing solely on what is negative. Still, it was hard to put down since it's all too close to home.

[Jill Crosby · Rating 4 out of 5]

While somewhat dated, the information in this book rings as true today as it did back in 1995 when it was written. “Women” gymnasts and figure skaters endure performing in competitions with serious injuries, punishing training methods and schedules, and national expectations (and TV ratings) resting on their young shoulders. Fascinating and eye-opening

[Kathrine Edwards · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very disturbing book.

[Kay · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an incredibly difficult book to read, with many trigger warnings for mentions of Eating Disorders, severe injuries, and more. But I feel like it’s crucial reading to especially understand how the power dynamics in both gymnastics and figure skating have operated and are likely continuing to operate.

[Kyle Magin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Difficult subject matter to read about, but excellently reported.

[Margaret · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really liked the writing of this book and the lengthy interviews that make it more than researched rumors, but the heart of the book and what it reveals is horrifying but not so terribly surprising.

It begins with a 2 AM phone call to Otilia Gomez in Houston. Her 15 year old daughter, Julissa is in Tokyo performing in an important gymnastics competition. Julissa had been training since the age of 10 with the famed coach Bela Karolyi. Known for his production of Olympic medalists Nadia Comaneci and Mary Lou Retton, Julissa was one of Kaolyi’s hopefuls as one of 6 girls to train for the Olympics. One phone call after 5 years of hard work and grueling training dashed any hopes for that.

Author Joan Ryan digs deep into the methods of “factory” training of our young women athletes, both in gymnastics and in figure skating. As Ryan points out, since the burst of young and tiny Olga Korbut and then even younger and tinier Nadia, the term “women’s” gymnastics or figure skating became a misnomer.

Young pre-teens can flip higher, leap higher, bend in positions that are seemingly impossible. They are lighter and unburdened by the natural changes that begin when girls start to develop into women. It has become “necessary” for coaches to focus prepubescent girls and to keep them that way for as long as possible—no matter what.

The “no matter what” is revealed in this book. Verbal abuse, taunting, withholding food, pitting one girl against another, ignoring serious injuries and medical advice…it goes on and on. Only a handful of hopeful gymnasts and skaters actually make it to the top but so many of the hopefuls are willing to take whatever it takes to get there and many of them pay dearly.

I have always admired the beauty and grace of the two sports, the glittering costumes, the beat of the music…but in the back of my mind I have wondered about what training and dedication these performers put into their talent. This book describes it all. It is heart-breaking and eye-opening and I hope that a change is in the making. I kind of doubt it. Young girls are so vulnerable and impressionable and their dreams are in front of them. Their parents are blinded by the dream and what attaining it could mean considering all of the sacrifices they have made to get so far. The sport is not guided by any "restrictions" that would protect the young hopefuls. The desire to be the best is too great. But really, after so many of the Olympic medalists retire (usually before they are even 20 years old), how many of the names and faces do we truly remember?

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

Cosas que me gustaron:

Yo no sabía nada del mundo de la gimnasia y esto me dio una idea (bastante cruda, eso sí) de cómo es la vida de las niñas gimnastas o patinadoras de élite, y también de las que no llegan a serlo. Fue muy informativo, y también triste. aunque supongo que las cosas han mejorado un poco, sigue siendo un deporte bastante riesgoso y más de una vez pensé "¿por qué existe esto?"

La forma en la que están organizados los capítulos. Habla de diferentes aspectos de lo que es la gimnasia para las niñas y adolescentes. Las lesiones y enfermedades, las dietas y los trastornos alimenticios, la apariencia física y la feminidad, los padres obsesivos, los entrenadores abusadores y un país superficial que se alimenta de las glorias de estas niñas sin mirar cuánto les ha costado.

Entrevistas a las mismas gimnastas y a los padres. También hay fotos de algunas gimnastas, lo cual me sirvió mucho porque fueron cosas que pasaron hace mucho y no tenía una imagen mental sobre ellas.

Lo que no me gustó:

Creo que es muy largo. A pesar de tener una buena organización, los temas se repetían en todos los capítulos. La autora hablaba del tema del peso en todos los apartados, así como de los entrenadores exigentes, etc. Se vuelve redundante y me hizo saltarme varias páginas.

[Sabrina · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is the third edition of the book I've read and it's disheartening that gymnastics culture hasn't changed much. Coaches may say they do things differently, but the #gymnastalliance begs to differ.

One thing I noticed in this re-read that I found quite annoying is that Ryan uses some of her examples repeatedly throughout the book. I feel it weakens her argument to point to one example over and over rather than drawing from many examples to make a point. For example, I read about Michelle Campi's mother marrying her coach several times, sometimes by name and sometimes referenced as "a gymnast's mother," and I think Ryan's arguments were stronger in sections where she showed different parents' bad judgment, rather than repeating the one.