In a searching and powerful debut memoir, award-winning poet and literary translator Ani Gjika tells a different kind of origin story by writing about the ways a woman listens to her own body, intuition, and desire. Ani Gjika was born in Albania and came of age just after the fall of Communism, a time when everyone had a secret to keep and young women were afraid to walk down the street alone. When her family immigrates to America, Gjika finds herself far from the grandmother who helped raise her, grappling with a new language, and isolated from aging parents who are trying in their own ways to survive. When she meets a young man whose mind leans toward writing, as hers does, Ani falls in love―at least, she thinks it’s love. Set across Albania, Thailand, India, and the U.S., An Unruled Body is a young woman’s journey to selfhood through the lenses of language, sexuality, and identity, and how she learns to find freedom of expression on her own terms.
Ani Gjika is an Albanian-born writer, author and literary translator of eight books and chapbooks of poetry, including Bread on Running Waters (Fenway Press, 2013) a finalist for the 2011 Anthony Hecht Poetry Prize and the 2011 May Sarton New Hampshire Book Prize. Gjika moved to the U.S. when she was 18, earning an M.A. in English at Simmons University and an M.F.A. in poetry at Boston University. Her translation from the Albanian of Negative Space by Luljeta Lleshanaku was published in 2018 by Bloodaxe Books in the UK where it was Poetry Book Society’s Recommended Translation and shortlisted for the International Griffin Poetry Prize. It was published in the same year by New Directions in the U.S. where it was a finalist for a PEN Award and Best Translated Book Award. Gjika is a recipient of awards and fellowships from the NEA, English PEN, the Robert Pinsky Global Fellowship and, most recently, Restless Books’ 2021 Prize for New Immigrant Writing for her forthcoming memoir, An Unruled Body. She has taught English and writing throughout the U.S. and Thailand, and lives in Framingham, Massachusetts.
This is probably the most important book I'll have read this year or in my life in general! Really thankful for people writing about themselves and their experiences. I say this a lot, but I wish we all would write more about ourselves...then we'd learn how we're not alone in this world and that there's so many others going through the same challenges or life experiences as you. Through this book I've realized how as Albanian women we've been forced to have this collective trauma of violence which we're in the process of breaking, though very slowly. It takes a lot of strength to publish something like this - thank you!!!
This was a special read. After putting this book down I am eager to find another Poet’s memoir as I found the writing to be incredibly engaging, fascinating, and relatable on an obscure/ intuitive way.
The topics within this book were definitely tackled in an interesting way that was incredibly personal and detailed, making it easy to slip into Ani’s mind, understanding it as my own at times. I felt pain, frustration, joy, awe, relief, and curiosity along side her.
I appreciated and winced at times with how raw and unfiltered the content was. For review purposes, I will admit that this is only a reflection of my own comfort levels as opposed to the quality of writing on the authors part. I guess what I am just trying to say is that I would be quite shy and hesitant to recommend this book to a large portion of people in my life.
Lastly, though I might have felt like I was in her mind, I could still easily distinguish the ends of her mind with mine as the beliefs and conclusions she came to were not my own. This made it an interesting read that added perspective into how people view certain subjects such as intimate matters along with spiritual ones.
Overall, I enjoyed this book and found it incredibly easy to get lost in. I felt like I spent quality time with an author in a way I have not felt from a book before. It is as if I have gained a friend.
Of similar age, upbringing, and formative experiences with the author, I didn’t think there would be any sense of suspense in Ani’s unfolding of her life events (after all, we share birth years that are pretty close, came of age during the fall of communism in Albania, suffered through endless “goce, ke nje minute?”, moved to the States while still young enough to be re-birthed anew, learned to feel at home in a new language, loved lost and learned following similar patterns). But Ani Gjika book Is surprising, truly, in the best of ways, and I don’t say it lightly given the amount of reading I do. Sprinkled with poetry throughout, her prose is gripping, her voice is alive, fully hers and no other’s (although she officially thanks her literary heroes for having shown her the way). She cums and cries and angers and hurts and overcomes and embraces and let’s go on the page for no one else’s sake but her own and this is the super-power of this memoir. It doesn’t ask for the reader’s love or understanding or appreciation. It’s a love letter to the/her self.
This book is with me throughout my life, though only in retrospect I see that: at 13, the nights I read Pride and Prejudice with an English dictionary that I won for being the Best Reader of the Year in my hometown in Albania, a city where very few of my friends where interested in reading, this book is with my every time I learn to freeze my body when I leave the house so i don't get catcalled by men in my country; how I put on earphones everywhere I go to avoid hearing their catcalls--how I still do it today; this book is with me when I get to know my body for the first time; sensually, physically, spiritually, when I go to the beach in Durres with old Italian songs blasting, when my sister tells me about her generation and her firsts, when I immigrate to USA, in conversations with my mom, in memories with my grandmother, in the unconditional love of my pet, in hikes alone, by a body of water, gazing at a mountain, by a body...it's like a pair of eyes and a trusting smile, like Jean's smile, like the man she meets in Ireland smile, that says: I see you.
“I see myself at the dam where I don’t remember if there was any water and I know that girl is relying on herself. She has to find out where these choices will take her. She doesn’t see or listen well enough, perhaps. But she is determined to make these choices for herself, free of parental, cultural, or religious community control. She feels empowered and I will always be proud of that girl.”
I devoured this book, or maybe this book devoured me. In Gjika’s pride, I find a path towards forgiveness and maybe even pride for the girl I once was, in a situation much the same, underscoring the revolutionary power of her prose. An Unruled Body “constructs a story out of silence,” with Gjika giving voice to her story as a survivor and providing a paradigm through which others may do the same. It was incredible, the interweaving of poems throughout the book is quite possibly my favorite way that I’ve ingested poetry.
What a unique, poetic, and powerful read! Readers who’ve lived through a marriage with a secret or a body with a complication will especially appreciate this memoir. In relaying the story of her childhood in post-communist Albania and her dysfunctional marriage to a man from India, Gjika paints a larger picture of making peace with and coming home to her body. I identified with so much of her lyric prose. I could feel the heady romance embedded in her long-distance relationship and in the time she spends getting acquainted with her own desires after divorce. Her reflections on the differences between being watched versus being seen as a woman resonated deeply.
Gjika has constructed a profound expression of self-discovery and liberation in her new memoir. As an accomplished poet and translator, Gjika brings a sensitivity to her English prose that pulls the reader in close, recounting events in an intimate present tense. It’s a journey of loving others and ultimately loving herself. She explores the various layers of oppression and repression that she faced growing up in Albania, where she survived sexual assault in addition to constant harassment on the streets. Over time, her relationship with her body changes; she writes, “This is a story about listening to the language of my body. How I learned to listen to remember all that I am.”
This memoir is interspersed with lines of poetry, but the prose are absolutely poetry as well. Gjika moves us through her troubled adolescence in a troubled transition time in Albania. Then on to the US, Thailand, and India. Her story covers some ground, but is deeply rooted all along in her body. The transformation and conclusions she is able to draw from her journey were poignant and felt true to the bones. As she unfolds her wisdom, abd grows her ability to listen to it, I felt that her words were growing me as well. Like sunlight on a leafy plant. This book was magic and a balm. It left me very inspired as a woman, a writer, and a human animal.
Brilliant and deeply emotional. Ani gives you a piece of her heart in this complex and stunning memoir of a women who had lived a life with many of the imprisonments women are born with into this world and broke the barriers of her existence that held her back so loudly that you will too by the end of this lovely book. Highly recommend this book not only to Albanian women, but everyone on the journey of radical self acceptance and love. ✌️
Ani writes eloquently about becoming a liberated woman, starting in the oppressive male dominated Albania through her travels and relationships until ultimately she reaches within to become the woman she was searching for. I was fortunate to hear her read sections of the book with poems also. Lovely writer, took courage to be so forthcoming, sweet person.
With a poet’s lens, Ani explores the fall of communism in Albania , immigration, sexuality, owning her body and self-hood. Her prose about sex and the body is exquisite and unlike anything I’ve read before! A stunning book.
Absolutely loved it! There is so much in this book that resonated with me as a woman growing up in a culture where girls & women are constantly pretending to be invisible for their own safety. A very raw telling of the author’s story - thanks Ani!
Beautifully written (unsurprising as she’s a poet) and hard to read quickly because you want to savor the language. There are explicit sex scenes and details. This brave memoir is a wonderful ode to body and language and finding a home in them both.
Beautiful. Honest. Quite a few things I could relate to, sometimes just an insight or a reaction to something, also some behaviours or even things I have experienced. Valuable questions too, that I still need to find answers to.
Felt like someone reached inside my gut, read my insides, then wrote it on the page A stunning memoir, so personal, written in a way I don't think many Balkan women have the knowledge they are allowed to write. Personal, yet felt like it was sharing my experience as well
What a fantastic read this was! And what a privilege to experience vicariously such vulnerability and strength. Gjika's prose is brutally honest and yet so poetic and lovely. In Albanian I'd say "E përpiva". In English I say-- get this book and free up your day for a page-turner. Brava!
I am a slut for poetic prose & this has hands down been one of my favorite reads this year. A beautiful & powerful story of one woman’s relationship to her body. 4.5 highly recommend!!!
It took me a while to get started but once I got into it I enjoyed it. It's a very personal and raw memoir and I learned some things I didn't know. Very graphic in some instances so be prepared.
Captivating and fascinating from the very first page. So beautifully written. Poetic and profound. Open, honest and an amazing story. Ani brings you in to her life and shares her most intimate secrets in a way that binds you in a sisterhood. Wonderful book.