Scarred: A Feminist Journey Through Pain

by L. Ayu Saraswati

PROSE Award Winner for Biography and Autobiography

Named one of Library Journal's Best Books of 2023.

Offers thought-provoking theories and life-transforming ways to deal with pain

What can we ask of pain? How can we be more creative and courageous in carrying pain in our lives? In this genre-bending work that is equal parts memoir and scholarly criticism, L. Ayu Saraswati provides thought-provoking theories and life-transforming ways to understand pain, specifically in relation to feminism. Arguing that pain is not merely a state we are in, Scarred reframes pain as a “transnational feminist object,” something that we can carry across international borders. Drawing on her own experience traveling across twenty countries within just over a year, Saraswati aims to bring readers along on her journey so that they might ask themselves, “How can I live with pain differently?”

By using pain as a lens of feminist analysis, Scarred allows us to chart how power produces and operates through pain, and how pain is embodied and embedded in relationships. Saraswati provides a heartfelt and engaging recount of her experiences while also pushing the boundaries of the respective fields her story engages with. She allows for renewed academic and personal insights to blossom by using a blend of transnational feminist theory, travel studies, and pain studies. Ultimately, Scarred invites us to reframe pain and ask how might we carry it in a more humane, life-sustaining, enchanting, and feminist way.

Genres: Nonfiction, Feminism

229 pages, Kindle Edition

First published April 1, 2023

Reviews

[CanadianReader · Rating 1 out of 5]

I’m afraid I didn’t get on with this at all. The distancing, abstract academic language (e.g., “transnational feminist autoethnography,” “transnational feminist object,” “anamorphic apparatus”) got old very quickly. I didn’t read far enough to discover the nature of the author’s pain, but I had a hard time believing that anyone in actual physical distress could produce such a rambling fanciful piece. “Feminist enchantment,” anyone? I might not be “scarred” by attempting to engage with this, but it was painful enough—as far as reading goes—to encourage me to curtail the journey.

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

A gender studies professor gifted me this book and I am SO glad she did, especially given how solo travel has become a defining part of my life for the past year.

All that said, I can’t figure out whether my ‘meh’ reaction to the book is because of reading something academic after many years, or something else. It SHOULD work for me: its elements of travelling as a woman of color, the erotic as a life force from within, how privilege or lack of privilege plays our in the context of travel. But as a package, it wasn’t particularly compelling and I had to drag myself through most of the book.

The stronger points for me:
- I appreciated the passages on enchantment and there is important food for thought for me in regards to how travel can enable someone like me to redefine my relationship to pain.
- It was definitely not at all a bad work of literature for me to flex my academic intellectual muscles after a long time.
- Revisiting academia after a long time and with a fresher perspective made me appreciate the importance of a more informed account rather than your run of the mill feel good Eat Pray Love memoir. It’s not sexy to contemplate the notion of the emotional contract, but that’s not to discount the need to do so. That’s what academia is for.

I guess ultimately this book is very theoretical and very much an intellectual exercise, which I am weary of in general. The way the book constantly calls on neoliberal and capitalist pressures also felt tiresome even while being whollly true. I wonder how different this book would have felt if it oriented itself less overtly politically and more int he realm of feminine spiritual development. Can this even be a thing? Dunno, but I can’t help but wonder.

[Emily]

Building on Bessel van der Kolk’s The Body Keeps the Score and utilizing an intersectional approach akin to adrienne maree brown’s seminal scholarship on how race and gender complicate the ways in which trauma is written on bodies, L. Ayu Saraswati provides a complicated examination of what it means to live with pain. Theoretically astute yet intensely readable, Saraswati suggests that we all carry pain—and we all inherently possess the ability to work with that pain rather than fight against it because that pain is integral to us rather than an incidental feature of circumstances. The transnational feminist lens Saraswati uses may at times feel off-putting or jargony to the non-academic reader, yet that theoretical situating plays a crucial role in the story she shares and, should a reader be willing to wade through the introductory framework, offers insightful observations about trauma, pain, and perception, as well as Saraswati’s discussion of strategies for processing pain with and through the body.

[DuuniaZed · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book. And the literary style? I was obsessed. I loved the writer's diction and I really appreciated her way of carrying out heavy content.
Scarred is the closest thing to a guide to how we can better deal and accept our pain. With a touch of a feminist approach, the author takes us on a journey of how one can extract power and strength from inevitable painful events.

I recommend this book to anyone going through hard times.

Thank you Netgalley for this ARC.

[Alison Frisella · Rating 5 out of 5]

I decided to read this book after seeing Dr. Saraswati present at the National Women’s Studies Association Conference this year. Despite going into the conference insisting that I would not be buying any more books, her presentation was so thought-provoking and challenging that I just had to spend more time swimming in her theorization. This book did not disappoint. In an exciting medley of theory, autoethnography, and memoir, Saraswati transgresses the limitations of the travel writing and self-help genres this book could have too-easily fallen into, instead forging a path for a fully emotional, intellectual, and embodied exploration of what it means to live and travel with our pain.

I am particularly compelled by her understanding of pain as the perception of a wound— engaging a Foucauldian analysis to show that how we perceive our pain is always rooted in the discourses which we have been taught, which function to subjugate us. Moving beyond this “docile perception” toward a “defiant perception” we become active agents in the process of perceiving and acting upon our pain— refusing to reinforce the same patriarchal scripts over again in our minds.

[Griffin Wold]

DNF at the end of chapter 3.

Going into this, I was expecting it to encompass many types of pain, including physical. However, upon starting this book, I realized that it, at least in the first three chapters, almost exclusively looks at mental/emotional pain.

I did like the points Saraswati was making about how the culture we are raised in can affect how we perceive pain, both by telling us how it should feel and also in what causes us pain, and how the creation of pain exists on a much larger scale than an individual.

One thing I didn't care for was that, at least in the first three chapters, she only focused on moving through and overcoming the pain. There was no discussion about the importance of processing the pain and grief that is caused when someone harms you, and puts all of the emphasis on getting past that. I really hope that she addressed this later in the book, but I just couldn't sit through the rest of it.

I'm sure Saraswati had many good points throughout this book, but I just could not connect with the way it was written. It seemed as if almost every statement she made, she would then have to make a clarifying statement afterwards. To do that once or twice is fine, but when that large a percentage of the points she is making need her to follow it with "now that is not to say...," it becomes more like a game trying to figure out what she actually meant.

[Agamani Sen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have read many memoirs, but this book was the best of all the memoirs I have read so far. I believe perhaps because it was also a scholarly book, that I loved it more than the others because it had a different kind of clarity of thought process that I did not find in any other memoir. Other memoirs helped me draw strength from them, but this book took me on my own journey alongside the author’s and helped me process some of my own pain. I found myself reading and re-reading parts of the book in order to grasp what the author was asking us to ponder.

I have to say that this book is not for everybody. But that is true for every book. That’s why I always go with my own gut feeling for picking up a book to read and this book just wowed me like no other. I still think everyone will benefit from reading this book even if they cannot relate to everything because this book has a very different perspective that I did not find in other books.

[Cristina Costache · Rating 2 out of 5]

So many negative feelings about this book, and few good ones.
I loved the feminist theory element, how we “carry pain” like a shell, and some of the concepts about where we live, bringing in wonder and playfulness etc.
But I found the rest insufferable. I’m so sorry and feel so bad for leaving this review to a scholar, as someone lower on the academic ladder.
As an immigrant living with endometriosis and doctor some of the statements were contradictory, and there were elements, even if highlighted as personal, that.. I just couldn’t believe were presented by a scholar in such an academic language and what for.
I think some elements are worth considering for sure, really like some of the academic concepts, but.. just couldn’t piece this book together for what it is.

(Doing a PhD on bias in pain assessment and management in health professions education and was recommended this by my PhD supervisor)

[Chandi · Rating 5 out of 5]

First and foremost, I'm a lifelong learner and truly enjoy books that make me step out and learn, study, google, and gain new perspective. Having never attended a university I enjoy books that are written to expose a reader to new subject matter. Thats exactly what this book did! The stories are raw and very real throughout, compelling, not shying away from the difficulty of real life situations, but laying them bare. Loved that its not coming from a self help perspective in that its not searching for a cure, but simply understanding that some pain must always be carried even if the load is lightened. Enjoyed the travel aspect as well as I love to travel!

[Agung Magda · Rating 5 out of 5]

Before getting into this book, know that this is an academic book. But surprisingly, the author takes the time to explain every single concept and I actually learned a lot! Her personal stories are very interesting too. Not just theories. And she writes b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l-l-y! Some sentences are just so good! The first couple of chapters I admit are harder to read because they’re mostly concepts and such. But the third chapter when she starts talking about her pain is really mesmerizing! And from there I can’t put the book down. Totally worth it!!!

[Elyse Decker · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was an incredibly insightful book both as an academic and as a woman. I enjoyed the combination of feminist theory with a grounding real life story which made all potentially complex ideas more easily understandable and approachable. Additionally, as an Indigenous person I appreciate both physical pain and psychological/traumatic pain being addressed without valuing one over the other.

[mags♡ · Rating 3 out of 5]

I can definitely see these tips being relevant in my life!

Thank you to the author and the publisher for this ARC through NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.

[‎‧₊˚n o e l l e˚₊‧]

I may just not be in the right headspace to read an academic book on pain from a feminist perspective - maybe I’ll try again once I’ve entirely retired from academic work?