In her luminous debut, Emilee Hackney offers both a love letter to and a reckoning of the place that made her—a story of losing her faith, finding her way back to her Appalachian home, and discovering what endures
Born and raised deep in the hollers of the Appalachian Mountains, Emilee Hackney knew little beyond the ridgelines and coalfields of southwestern Virginia. As an eighth-generation Appalachian, her childhood was steeped in the stories of her grandparents—tales of the coal mines’ brutal grip and the way the land, both beautiful and unforgiving, never quite let anyone go. At fourteen, Emilee meets Sam, a senior at her high school, who offers her a glimpse at a promising future together. But as they begin attending services at Deliverance Christian Church as a couple, Emilee is thrust into the radical realm of Pentecostalism. In a culture where marriage at nineteen isn’t uncommon, Emilee is engaged to Sam. Eager to make her relationship work, she embraces the extremist doctrines of the religion, submitting herself fully to God, to Sam, and to a life of repentance. But what she doesn’t yet know is the man she plans to marry is not who he claims to be.
Years later, Emilee finds herself isolated from friends, family, and her own sense of truth. Wracked with shame and self-doubt, she reaches a breaking point. On the verge of spiraling out of control, she applies to Harvard in a stunning act of defiance and hope; against all odds, she is accepted. From the magisterial mountains of Tazewell to the storied halls of Cambridge, Emilee begins the arduous process of reinventing herself and her relationships with her home, faith, and values against the backdrop of the divisive 2016 election. All That’s Unseen is Emilee Hackney’s fiercely honest memoir about spiritual entrapment, hard-won liberation, and the courage to reclaim her voice after she had been taught to stay silent.
All That’s Unseen is a triumphant debut told with candour, humility and vulnerability. This memoir follows Emilee’s roots in Appalachia, growing up in rural Virginia and her fall into the Pentecostal church. She adds a human lens to poverty, describing life in the coalfields across many generations. Reading the moments in her evangelical church were sometimes disturbing and difficult to read, but they are honest and informative. I was proud of her, enraged for her, scared for her and so sad that her community failed to protect her and many other women.
What I found most fascinating is that Emilee’s spiral into an intense religious doctrine was predominantly self-motivated. Her parents were concerned with her behaviour and as she drifted further into church, she drifts further from her family. I appreciated that this challenged my general assumptions and perceptions that most people engage in these spaces because they are raised that way.
I definitely would recommend this for fans of the Glass Castle and Educated; this memoir struck very similar tones, while being unique to Emilee and her story.
My primary critique is that while her exploration into politics was worthwhile, given 2016 was such a watershed moment in American politics, I felt that it didn’t go much beyond the surface. For me, it didn’t provide any new commentary if you’ve previously grappled with literature about that election!
Thank you to Penguin Press for the advanced reader copy to review! All that’s unseen is out July 28.
Forgive me if this is a bit jumbled, but I just finished this book and am truly so excited about it that I wanted to fire off my thoughts asap. To begin, this is a compelling, poetic, honest, and beautiful memoir that also does a wonderful job of capturing the complexity of Appalachia, which is something I feel the world-at-large isn’t too great at.
It’s easy to label the area as uneducated, unhealthy, and less cultured than the rest of the country - stereotypes that anyone who has ventured out of these hollers has had to cope with in some way. But Appalachia is so much more than those over-simplified labels, and Ms. Hackney’s memoir is a lovely example of how that’s so.
As someone who grew up near her hometown, I related deeply to many of her experiences, but I’m confident that even if you haven’t experienced religious trauma, felt the death of the mining industry in some capacity, etc., you’ll be able to connect to the author’s vulnerability. It’s a beautiful representation of what an Appalachian memoir should be.
Highly recommend.
A huge thank you to Penguin for the advanced copy!
This felt like a non-fiction Demon Copperhead with a female protagonist.
Emilee’s memoir is beautiful and eye opening. It shows the humanity behind poverty and helped me understand why so many people in Appalachia felt drawn to Trump’s message.
All That’s Unseen has everything you want in a memoir- relatability, overcoming, growth and change, and drama. I think Jeremy might be one of my favorite people I’ve never met. The way the writer described her peers and characters made me feel like I knew them, and that’s why I’m convinced Appalachian literature, as someone who knows zilch, is the most faceted one out there. I couldn’t stop turning the pages and rooting for Emilee- I loved to see her thrive and hated to see the times she ached for more, but was so glad to find this one has a pretty decently happy ending for our girl at least. Honestly, if you’re into personable memoirs that have a whole lot of verve and a lot of delicious atmosphere, All That’s Unseen should be your top pick. Thank you so much to Penguin Press for the ARC AND finished copy now!
A memoir that covers a lot of ground- Appalachia, Pentecostalism, sex and relationships, mental illness, Harvard - but rarely digs into any of it. Frustratingly surface-level throughout. Her experiences in and related to the church, in particular, deserved more scrutiny than they get. Needed more self-awareness and hard introspection. I don't know if the author herself has begun to examine the experiences recalled in the book with that sort of eye, though. This book may have benefited from some more time and maturity. It’s hard not to wonder whether (or how much) her connection to Michael Pollan, her Harvard professor and advisor, helped smooth the path to publication.
I’m not sure if I liked this book or not. I wish politics were left out. I thought the small sections that included politics were not necessary. Also, the use of my truth or his truth ugh… there is only THE truth. I agree with others that rated the book 3 stars; it felt like something was missing and there was no closure.
Once I picked this up I couldn’t put it down. I know it’s being compared to Educated, which is going to get old, but it is just as readable as Educated. The writing is superb.
This memoir is such a gift—Emilee’s gorgeous writing, her unflinching candor, the generosity in her storytelling, for the way she both exposes a perspective that is so underrepresented while refusing to flatten Appalachia into its stereotypes or into a sideshow. This is a debut that shines; it’s raw, emotional, and sensitive, and it’s reflective and beautifully wrought. Emilee’s story is distinct, but it is also telling of an American story that is often relegated to tales of woe, not told with love and nuance: a story of high control religion, of being working class in a failing economy, of a dysfunctional young relationship built on evangelical Christianity. This book will fill such a needed place on the shelf of American memoirs and I am so excited for it to make it out in the world.
For me, this book is especially a gift because I am lucky enough to know Emilee and to have walked part of this journey with her. We were two of a dozen transfers to Harvard in the fall of our sophomore year; a tiny cohort at a school where almost no one transfers in or out. It’s incredible to see that experience reflected back in Emilee’s writing, not through the curated lens of what we all showed one another in those awkward, early days when we were all struggling to prove we belonged at Harvard, but with the unvarnished reality.
I am far from an unbiased observer here, but this book was absolutely five stars. I highlighted half the book, struck over and over again by how beautiful and poignant it is. I can’t wait to see what Emilee writes next. Thank you so much to NetGalley and Penguin Press for a free eARC in exchange for an honest review.
I love when I finish a memoir feeling like I’ve actually gotten to know the person who wrote it.
I think the second half of the book, when Hackney really begins to interrogate her own relationship with Appalachia, is where it shines. Her experiences at Harvard—particularly confronting the preconceived notions her peers and professors hold about the region—push her to look more closely at where she comes from and what it means to defend it. Her worldview expands and shifts, but she remains loyal to her roots while arguing for a more sympathetic, nuanced understanding of Appalachia.
There’s a humanity to her story throughout, and a willingness to challenge her own assumptions—especially about her faith—that feels very sincere. She neither romanticizes nor disowns the place she comes from; instead, she asks us to see it—and the people who live there—with more complexity. In many ways, that’s the story she’s telling: how leaving Appalachia gave her the distance to see it differently, and how an expanded worldview ultimately made her more—not less—committed to understanding and defending where she came from.
What a fabulous first book for this writer. Her story is told with complete openness and vulnerability. I was particularly drawn to this memoir because I am married to someone who grew up very close to Tazewell, VA. AND, I grew up on the fringes of Appalachia. I understood her desire to escape the limitations of such of a rural area, but I also understand the pull to not leave. Through her struggles with relationships to finding her true potential at Harvard and beyond, this is really a story of triumph. Well written with a lot of heart and soul. I can’t wait to see what she does next.
As someone from the coalfields of Appalachia too, this book put into words the complicated and beautiful pull of Appalachia. Emilee Hackney honors her Appalachian experience, articulates it beautifully, and invites others to share her experience. What a source of pride! What a gift!
Thank you to NetGalley and The Penguin Press for providing me with an ARC of this book. All opinions are my own.
All That’s Unseen is an outstanding debut and an engrossing memoir of growing up in Appalachia. Emilee Hackney is a talented writer and offers a nuanced and thoughtful portrayal of life in coal country and the dark underbelly of the evangelical church. The topics immediately piqued my interest and overall, I found this book to be very engaging and readable. I can already see the parallels with this book and Hillbilly Elegy, a book that was pounced on by liberals desperate to understand the election of Trump in 2016, but which offers little in way of substantive “answers” and has been criticised for not being a true reflection of Appalachia and for Vance himself not belonging to Appalachia. Hackney seems to anticipate these parallels in her writing, insisting on her true Appalachian roots and, very understandably, wanting to protect the people of Appalachia from unfair stereotypes and blame for the outcome of the election. It’s incredibly difficult to write a memoir that includes a topic (in this case, a place) that has become a political touchstone, and I think this memoir ultimately works best as a personal piece of work. When it tries to navigate into broader cultural, political, and religious conversations, it falls short a bit. For example, Hackney discusses her experiences taking a class at Harvard on Evangelicalism. She briefly describes the materials that are discussed in this class and how she personally relates to them, but doesn’t venture much further than this. In another excellent memoir I recently read, “A Well Trained Wife” by Tia Levings, the authors unravelling of the history and mythology of evangelicalism helps the reader understand some of the history around the movement and frames her own process of escaping the religion. In Levings’ memoir, her learning process is described in a way that is extremely personal yet instructional for the reader. This next point is difficult to discuss in a fair and nuanced way, but it was a nagging question in my head while reading the book. Hackney never clearly articulates why she was accepted into Harvard after only having taken a few easy community college courses and having little in the way of personal ambitions beyond getting out of her small town life—or if she did they are not included in the narrative. There are moments that suggest Hackney may have been viewed by Harvard as someone who could help broaden the institution’s understanding of Appalachia or contribute to its sense of diversity—paralleling, in some ways, the enormous attention given to Vance in the wake of Hillbilly Elegy. This observation doesn’t diminish Hackney’s intellect or accomplishments, rather, it raised a lingering question for me throughout the book, one that speaks more to the dynamics of elite institutions than to Hackney herself. My final critique of the book is that I wonder if it needed to be published this early. Hackney is still extremely young, and profoundly honest memoir writing is not easy. Hackney writes with candor but I wonder what else would have emerged with additional time for introspection and more life outside of Appalachia and evangelicalism.
I find memoirs can go one of two ways. The author has enough distance and maturity to look back on a life or event with a clear view of what happened and why it happened. This author is not just retelling a story. They are providing the reader the insight they gained to learn some sort of lesson. The author doesn't have to beat you over the head with it. However, they do need to have a point.
The other way a memoir can go is just by retelling a story. This narrative may have plenty of twists and turns. They may be an extraordinary person. They may have overcome significant odds. However, are they able to give the reader something to take away from the book other than, "Wow, that was kind of a wild ride."
Unfortunately, I think Emilee Hackney falls into the latter category. All That's Unseen is the story of her sheltered and challenging upbringing in rural Appalachia in southwestern Virginia. She has a rather fraught relationship with religion, her family, men, and ultimately would end up going to Harvard. For those of you thinking of Hillbilly Elegy, yes, there are some similarities.
I have many criticisms, but I want to start with the positives. Hackney is very likeable. She can write well. I was never tempted to throw this book aside and not finish. Her story is enlightening in some ways. Quite simply, with a bit more distance, this same book can be updated with more insight and be a classic. It's just not there yet.
For instance, the first 50 or so pages are set up for Appalachia and Hackney's family. It is a vibrant start to the book which I expected to really hammer home the family aspect of her story. Instead, the next part of the book almost completely ignores her family, and parents especially. Instead, the second part is about her descent into a controlling church environment and romantic relationship. When that is done, she is off to Harvard. Hackney is not building upon what came before. She is moving from major event to major event. Yes, there will be quick callbacks to previous trauma or family elements, but they feel perfunctory. There is a family tragedy in the epilogue that should be poignant for the author (and I am sure it was), but for the reader, the work hasn't been done to make it hurt. Instead, it feels like another tragedy that just happened.
Hackney also doesn't quite put together why she does the things she does. The narrative feels like it is happening to her with no payoff where she begins to make decisions on her own with the scars and knowledge of what came before. I think she will one day put it all together. However, it feels like she is just not there yet.
(This book was provided as a review copy by Penguin Press.)
This is a hard one to review, as I am not sure if I liked it or disliked it. All That’s Unseen – An Appalachian Memoir by Emilee Hackney is a new upcoming release, about her life growing up in the Appalachian community in Virginia and later attending Harvard.
While I found her story interesting and how she ended up going to Harvard is inspiring from all that she faced and went through. Parts of her story felt like a political play, other parts I feel like she didn’t tell the whole story and left some things not finished. I wonder if she has realized she was in a church cult and experience spiritual and physical abuse and manipulation. It definitely affected her, but I am not sure she has healed from it! Not even sure where she stands in her belief after finishing reading her story, it seems as though she walked away, though still struggling? There is definitely more to be told there, and maybe she will someday, maybe this book was wrote to early and she should of waited until a little older?
It is definitely a thought provoking story, with some good discussion from it. I made a few highlights from her story, I thought were interesting:
I’m an eighth-generation Appalachian, attached to the land by something more sacred, more mysterious, than mere blood and history. I’m awed by the mountains. They are confining and comforting, ancient and noble. They radiate a soft old wisdom, as if they born at the very dawn of the world. If there was anything truly strange about the mountains, it was that: you were never quite happy in them, and you were never quite happy beyond them. I wouldn’t hear the phrase “prosperity gospel” until years later, but that was the core of Pastor Alan’s teaching. “Faith Healing” was another phrase I wouldn’t hear until much later, but I practiced it without knowing its name. Without guilt, how could I know I was living within or outside God’s will? Loyalty makes for committed, unbreakable bonds. It can also foster fear and discourage change.
In the end, I am left wondering, and I would love to see that she has healed and truly come to know Jesus as her Savior.
Many thanks to Netgalley for providing this book for review! Opinions are 100% my own! I did receive the product in exchange for this review and post.
Emilee Hackney's All That's Unseen is a courageous, beautifully written memoir that explores faith, identity, home, and self-discovery with remarkable honesty and emotional depth. More than a personal story, it is an illuminating portrait of Appalachia, the complexities of religious devotion, and the difficult journey of reclaiming one's voice after years of silence.
Hackney writes with striking authenticity about growing up in the mountains of southwestern Virginia, where family history, community, and the land itself are inseparable. Her vivid descriptions of Appalachian life reveal both its enduring beauty and its complicated legacy, creating a setting that feels every bit as alive as the people who inhabit it. Rather than relying on stereotypes, she offers a nuanced portrayal rooted in affection, history, and lived experience.
The memoir's emotional core lies in its exploration of spiritual entrapment and personal liberation. Hackney recounts her immersion in an extremist religious environment with extraordinary candor, examining the ways faith, love, fear, and control became deeply intertwined. Her willingness to confront painful memories without bitterness gives the narrative both credibility and compassion, allowing readers to understand not only what happened but also why leaving such a world is so profoundly difficult.
Equally compelling is her journey toward rebuilding her life. Her acceptance to Harvard becomes more than an academic achievement,it symbolizes hope, resilience, and the possibility of imagining a future beyond the limitations that once defined her. Yet even as she embraces new opportunities, she never abandons her connection to Appalachia. Instead, she thoughtfully wrestles with questions of belonging, identity, and reconciliation, making the memoir as much about returning home emotionally as it is about leaving home physically.
Written with lyrical prose, emotional intelligence, and unwavering vulnerability, All That's Unseen is an unforgettable memoir about courage, healing, and the lifelong process of discovering who we are. It is a moving testament to the power of reclaiming one's voice while honoring the people and places that continue to shape us.
#ALLTHATSUNSEEN by #emileehackney reflects upon a complicated love for Appalachia. It’s about how the deepest roots can inspire the greatest feelings of restlessness. Emilee grows up in Tazewell, not far from where her parents were born and raised. As a child, if Emilee wasn’t visiting relatives or going to school, she was at church with her mother, a sensible Baptist who liked Deliverance for all the different ways one could supposedly worship. Years later, Emilee would discover that they were in fact attending a Pentecostal church. By then, she would observe the rapturous congregation each week and wonder why she has herself yet to feel God. In her childhood memories, Emilee is praying constantly, begging for a spiritual connection that seemed so readily available to others around her.
Emilee meets her fiancé when she is fourteen and he is eighteen. By the time she is sixteen, they are spending all their time together at church. Emilee wants to marry after graduation but is aware that they need money to do so. Her fiancé is suspiciously lacking in any goals, and often proclaims vaguely that God will provide. Emilee is nineteen when she figures out what kind of man she has staked her entire future upon. In the tumultuous aftermath, Emilee grieves the certainty she believed she would have attained in marriage as well as how horrifically close she was to ruining her life. Determined to escape, Emilee applies for a college transfer and includes Harvard on a whim, for the one time her fiancé snidely told her she would never get in.
The last third of the memoir details Emilee’s arduous transition to city life and academia. It is only now that readers are made aware of her accent, of the derogatory way in which outsiders view her home. Emilee defends her Appalachia fiercely but is also burdened with a sense of unbelonging when she returns. While her kin encourage her to seek a livelihood elsewhere, Emilee insists upon remaining, even as it becomes economically unfeasible to do so. It is an endeavor that Emilee is still trying to reconcile today beyond these pages. Thanks so much to @penguinpress for sending me this ARC. #ALLTHATSUNSEEN comes out TOMORROW.
I have no doubt that this book will do well. A bestseller even. And the author most certainly deserves it. It is well-written, well-executed, and fully fleshed out with no stones left unturned. It held my interest from start to finish. It is a depressing book however, that left me filled with sadness. All That's Unseen is unique in that it is like a reverse memoir. Not chronologically, but behaviorally. Sort of like instead of rags to riches, it is riches to rags, but from an ethical standpoint. The author, as a young child, seemingly wanted to be a force for good in the world, and her actions generally moved in that direction. But when she was engaged, something happened in her life to make her do an abrupt 180 and take a completely different approach to her future. She went from being kind and hopeful and expectant to a life of debauchery. She started sleeping around with just about any man who asked, started using recreational drugs, some drinking, prescription antidepressants, and then, shockingly, prostitution. She felt no shame for any of her behavior, or in helping to lead others astray. As a mother, I can only imagine how heartbreaking it must have been for her parents to see her end up as the person that she was at the completion of this book. But ultimately, I feel great sympathy for her. Her level of gullibility is unusual, she seems to think, for example, that Google and the internet are reliable sources of information, and can be taken at face value. She is overly trusting and easily manipulated. Maybe she will find her way back someday. I hope so. And maybe she will write another memoir on how that transpired. I look forward to reading her redemption arc. ** I received this book for free, but all opinions are my own.
Much of the book is written from the highly flammable intersection of faith, relationship abuse, misogyny, and mental illness. Emilee is an eighth-generation Appalachian, and her descriptions of her hometown and the local hollers where her grandparents live are both beautiful and unsentimental. This is Coal Country in the early 2000s, and she works at a local Subway, not in a mine, although economic scarcity is a real problem.
To me the questions raised in the first part of the book—in which God calls her to marry a guy who is eventually arrested for possessing child porn—are more compelling than those in the latter, in which she bounces from feeling like an exoticized fish out of water at Harvard to feeling like a resented fish out of water back home. Whether and how to leave the world that raised her is relevant to her personal journey (and everyone's, to some degree), but I wanted to know more about her bipolar diagnosis (maybe because her early symptoms clocked as scrupulosity OCD, and I'm an OCDer) and the problematic fact that church officials "never liked" her boyfriend, but still encouraged her near-miss teen marriage. It's also possible that I'm jealous she went to Harvard and got a book deal at a young age? Always a theme in my reading!
Oh, one thing that I found refreshing, having read many memoirs of childhood trauma (some of them wonderful): Emilee's parents are kind people with good heads on their shoulders. I appreciate that she depicts how the world can be dangerous even when you have a solid foundation.
Appalachia is a word I have mostly known through other people’s images: mountains shadowed by moonshine and trailers, thick accents, missing teeth, coal dust, hardship, and pride. Some of that may be true. Some of it is only the shape a place takes when you know it through books, movies, and other people’s opinions.
Even here, on the west coast of Canada, I can feel the idea of coal grit blistering skin for a hundred years, but I know that feeling is borrowed. I came to All That’s Unseen wanting to hear from someone who knows Appalachia from the inside.
I love memoir because it gives a place a human voice. I knew nothing real of Appalachia, and I was hoping to hear a voice with the rhythm of the mountains, catching its breath in the rivers. Emilee Hackney delivered that.
All That’s Unseen is a memoir of youth, discovery, impatience, discomfort, and the slow, complicated work of understanding where you come from. Some of what Hackney chose to share could not have been easy, and I admire her willingness to let truth unfold through vulnerability rather than polish it into something safer.
Her writing is honest, searching, and there is a rawness here that suits the story being told. I found myself appreciating not only what she experienced, but how carefully she tries to understand it.
I would recommend All That’s Unseen to anyone who enjoys memoir, especially readers drawn to stories of place, identity, family, and becoming.
Thank you to the publishers and NetGalley for the ARC.
The author grew up in Appalachia in southwestern Virginia. She describes the intense beauty of the surrounding mountains, the narrow hollers characteristic of the Appalachian countryside, and surviving through long, harsh winters. Missing from the narrative are the poverty, hopelessness, joblessness, and drug culture that often contribute to life in Appalachia, but that might actually be what the author intended. Her vivid descriptions and strong affection for the land where she was born, and had a hard time staying away from, give readers another perspective.
The author writes about her involvement in the Pentecostal religion, where members speak in tongues and are baptized in the Holy Spirit. She spent a great deal of time on that aspect of her life, as monumental as it was. I was happy to read she didn't marry and become a teenage mother. Not a fan of Evangelism, I almost stopped reading halfway through the book.
Her experiences at Harvard and moving to Boston, however, gave me renewed interest and enthusiasm for the rest of the book. Hackney's honesty about finding her way around a big city, fitting in with classmates very different from her, and embarrassment over her accent came across as authentic. After a few wrong turns and engaging with the right people, the author eventually finds her way and true vocation. I applaud her courage while being true to herself.
Thank you to the author, publisher, and Netgalley for this ARC.
I had really been looking forward to All That’s Unseen by Emilee Hackney. Having gone to college at Virginia Tech, I feel a strong connection to Southwestern Virginia and its beautiful mountains, and that sense of place does come through vividly in this memoir.
Hackney’s love for the region is clear, as is the difficult position she found herself in—defending her home while a student at Harvard. Some of her experiences there were genuinely painful to read, and her vulnerability is undeniable.
That said, this was a challenging memoir for me. I tend to look for some sense of closure, hope, or resolution in this genre, and I didn’t quite find that here. The narrative feels very immediate and raw, which at times made it difficult to process as a reader. I found myself wishing for a bit more distance or reflection, especially given the weight of the personal revelations shared.
I’ve since learned that Hackney later hiked the Appalachian Trail in honor of her father, and I couldn’t help but wish that journey—or even a hint of it—had been woven into the memoir as a thread of forward movement.
This is a deeply personal and emotionally intense read, and while I’m still grappling with my thoughts on both her experiences and reactions, I do appreciate the honesty she brings to the page.
Thank you to Penguin Random House for providing a physical ARC.
I really wanted to love this book, but it never quite resonated with the insight I was seeking. I gave it four stars because it was the first effort of the author at a young age and, as memoirs go, she could not have had but so much material to work with. I am also coming off the high of reading The Calamity Club, a completely different genre, but this could have clouded my perception a little.
I was a little annoyed with the focus on religion in the middle of the book, but in hindsight, I realize this is an essential component of the average Appalachian experience. It was very fascinating to hear from a formally-trained voice about the various straws to which a marginalized and often impoverished and undereducated community will grasp. In addition to the extreme Pentecostalism described in the book, there is also the cultish obsession with Trump as a messianic savior (just can't escape this guy in my reading).
I think this is a great inaugural offering by Emilee Hackney and her writing and storytelling should do nothing but improve with experience. It sounds like she will have many other great stories to tell in the future, as I read about her through-hiking the Appalachian Trail in 2022 (same trail class as my son!) and marrying a fellow hiker.
A memoir that shines light on growing up in the Appalachian Mountains. During Emilee’s childhood, her parents didn’t push religion on her, however she finds herself in a relationship that isn’t good for her, and she starts attending a Pentecostalism church with him. She gets so sucked into this world that it’s hard to see the truth in front of her. Years later, Emilee goes through the process of redefining herself, her relationships, her faith, and her feelings towards home.
I really enjoyed this memoir. I appreciated Emilee’s authenticity and honesty while detailing the experiences she went through, in her relationships and with the church. Although sometimes her thoughts and feeling may have come across as “messy”, this is what made it feel so realistic. She had contradicting feelings: feeling the need to defend her home while knowing there are negative parts to it, wanting to return home while wanting to re-create a life outside of it. There were so many moments that I felt sad, angry, but also hopeful for her.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the advanced copy of All That’s Unseen. This story resonated with me as someone also from southern Virginia pushing back against religious systems. The portion when she talks about calmly learning and debating religion in an educational setting resonated so deeply with me. I was also raised in an extremely black and white world..you either believe in a faith and are saved or you don’t and are doomed. But learning about and respecting other religions and cultures is extremely enlightening and what the world and being a human is really all about.
I applaud the author for sharing her experience and hope this resonates with more in the evangelical community. I also appreciated her research into coal’s political backing and the exploitation of the people in Appalachia. I only wish they weren’t so blinded by hope and desperation (twice). I hope we get to hear more of the author’s story.
This is an incredibly intimate and powerful story that takes you on a journey through the coal fields of Southwest Virginia as well as Harvard (and Boston). I was happy to receive an ARC of this book because I was also born in a coal mining town, but in West Virginia. We left when I was only 6 but continued to visit grandparents and relatives. I could see so many similarities with Emilee’s experience with the people she grew up with and their love of the only life they knew. It is amazing that after growing up in this insular life that she finds the courage to not only leave but to go to Harvard - which would be intimidating for just about any student. But she did it, and she stayed even when she suffered and came out the other side. After being exposed to education about other religions it allowed her to understand the church she loved and then hated. This was n excellent book and a quick read.