Personal stories of how women survive after the trauma of sexual assault.
In the era of #MeToo, we've become better at talking about sexual assault. But sexual assault isn't limited to a single, terrible moment of violence: it stays with survivors, following them wherever they go.
Through the voices of twelve diverse female writers, Whatever Gets You Through offers a powerful look at the narrative of sexual assault not covered by the headlines--the weeks, months, and years of survival and adaptation that women live through in its aftermath. With a foreword by Jessica Valenti, an extensive introduction by editors Stacey May Fowles and Jen Sookfong Lee, and contributions by acclaimed literary voices listed in presentation order: Lauren McKeon, Heather O'Neill, Alicia Elliott, Juliane Okot Bitek, Kai Chen Thom, Elly Danica, Gwen Benaway, Karyn L. Freedman, Amber Dawn, Soraya Palmer, Lea Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha and Elisabeth de Mariaffi. The collection explores some of the many different forms that survival can take.
From ice hockey to kink, boxing to tapestry-making, these striking personal essays address subjects as varied as the women who have lived them. With candor and insight, each writer shares her own unique experience of enduring: the everyday emotional pain and trauma, but also the incredible resilience and strength that can emerge in the aftermath of sexual assault.
Jen Sookfong Lee writes, talks on the radio and loves her slow cooker.
In 2007, Knopf Canada published Jen’s first novel, The End of East, as part of its New Face of Fiction program. Hailed as “an emotional powerhouse of a novel,” The End of East shines a light on the Chinese Canadian story, the repercussions of immigration and the city of Vancouver.
Shelter, Jen’s first fiction for young adults, was published in February 2011 as part of Annick Press’ Single Voice series. It follows a young girl as she struggles to balance her first and dangerous love affair with a difficult and demanding family.
Called “straight-ahead page-turning brilliance” by The National Post and shortlisted for the City of Vancouver Book Award, The Better Mother, Jen’s sophomore novel, was published by Knopf in May 2011. Set in Vancouver during the mid-20th century and early 1980s, The Better Mother is about the accidental friendship between Miss Val, a longtime burlesque dancer, and Danny Lim, a wedding photographer trying to reconcile his past with his present.
A popular radio personality, Jen was the writing columnist for CBC Radio One’s On the Coast and All Points West for three years. She appears regularly as a columnist on The Next Chapter and Definitely Not the Opera, and is a frequent co-host of the Studio One Book Club. Jen is a member of the writing group SPiN and is represented by the Carolyn Swayze Literary Agency.
Born and raised in East Vancouver, Jen now lives in North Burnaby with her husband, son and hoodlum of a dog.
I opened this book with hesitation, as I'm sure many women did, knowing that the stories inside would reopen wounds, remind us of times and memories we'd rather not linger in, and make us newly sad for the humans suffering through their words. Instead, I found story after story of recovery, a path each woman has taken to "get through" to the other side. No one is cured, no miracle is achieved, but by sharing the diverse routes we must carve out in our own lives, through our own unique pain, it makes this community whole together. There is no one way to get through. There is your way. #MeToo ladies, and thank you.
Where to start... This book was hard to get through and I mean that in a good way. We read 12 women’s coping stories after sexual assault. That on its own is a huge statement. They don’t go to far into their own sexual assaults, but it really teaches you that there is no wrong or right way to cope. I was in total shock and had to lay the book down to breath. I read passages to my bf and his face was in utter shock that things like this happen EVERY day.
Finally, survivorship from the perspective of survivors: messy stuff, not needing to make a case that this is real and bad and happens, not presented as if there is one right way to cope or heal.
This is a book that came to existence out of a real, unmet need: stories about living alongside trauma that doesn't quit, doesn't fit into a tidy package with a bow of closure on it, separate from the rest of your life after a montage sequence full of:
you pumping iron and running laps and getting so strong no one can hurt you again (lol), forever or you going to therapy where an inspirational person tells you the one thing that magically breaks through (lol) all the hurt and you cry buckets and then move on, forever or you sitting in a courtroom (lol), confronting the person who hurt you and now that your story is told and the truth has come to light and everyone believes you (lololol) and justice is served in a form that both keeps other people safe and undoes the hurt that was done you and punishing him sure fixes him up good (lololololololol).... you know the ones.
These are ridiculous scenarios in terms of realism, but in the wish-fulfillment narratives we see in dominant media, they're the only survivors who get to be protagonists. And survivors living in the silence and shame around sexual assault believe that there is something wrong with them for not having gotten over it already. There's no goddamn manual. This is as close as you can get, I think.
I found a lot of specific ideas and experiences in these essays powerful, relatable, validating, enlightening, comforting, and/or important. I have decided not to list them, because they are very personal, and the ones that are most important to me may not be the most important to you. If you are seeking answers, I encourage you to read this book yourself.
P.S.: The actual title of this book, according to its cover, is Whatever Gets You Through: Twelve Survivors on Life After Sexual Assault. It's also listed as the 'original' title. I'm not really sure what happened there. I do not think the authors and editors of this book would have chosen a less inclusive title, the way essentialism can harm survivors is discussed by multiple contributors, and I hope this gets fixed.
P.P.S.: This book gets full marks from me for meaningful representation. It is also super Canadian. I learned what ringette is!
“Our stories of rape and survivorhood are a thundercloud, a nebula. They are huge and awesome and, if spoken, can and do bring rape culture to its knees.”
Whatever gets you through focuses on the point of healing after trauma, after being invalidated, after feeling like death has swept from under you. You feel uneasy, afraid, weary of people around you.
Surviving the unthinkable is something most can’t stomach, they fear the looks, the knowing, the thoughts of someone calling you a liar. The pain that comes from going through it yourself, just for someone to tell you you made it up, just for someone to rule out that it’s all a lie.
And it’s even more painful when the experience plays over and over in your head every second to the way he touched you, to the feelings it left on your rumpled skin. To the way he stared, and the grittiness of his voice. But no it’s his life you’re ruining. He has a family, you know better.
“I hated it for betraying me. For not fighting then, for being something that could be acted upon. I started to punish it, even though I’d just learned that nothing would stop a person who wanted to rape”
I wish I had known better to stay away that day, my body betrayed me, frozen like a post on the street. Letting a single pair of lips plop down. I was afraid and till this day I can still feel the chills that rained down on my skin.
I hated my body, for not helping me, for not understanding what he meant. For being coy, and naive and for being innocent something I was praised for only to not understand when it came down to that evening what he wanted from me.
I understand where I am on my own healing level, why men have always been difficult to be myself around, why they seem to be strange and unreal to me. Why I can never feel like I trust them when I’m around.
And someday I’ll work up to that level of trust, where I can make those feelings fade, where I can finally tell someone what happened. That’s when you truly begin healing.
“The trauma that results from terrifying life events over which we have no control is profound. It changes us in fundamental ways. The paralyzing helplessness of being trapped in a threatening situation results in a severe disruption of the nervous system. This extreme stress affects how the brain works and makes it difficult for survivors of traumatic events to regulate their everyday biological functions—sleeping, breathing, talking, even eating. Psychologically”
This is just like a really incredible anthology--so many of the authors are so conscious of the world in which they're writing and living, and so resistant to the narratives of survivorship, and what that specifically means in this moment (2019, during #MeToo, etc.)
So many of these essays are so good; I think my favorite is Gwen Benaway's essay, "Silence," but also Amber Dawn's "This (Traumatized, Kinky, Queer) Body Holds a Story," and "The Mother You Need" by Elisabeth de Mariaffi. By "good," of course I mean moved me in ways that shift beyond the kind of sympathetic pornotroping of a lot of representations of survivor narratives (not all; this text obviously owes a lot to the work of Dorothy Allison and others, and some essayists acknowledge that,) and pushed me intellectually and emotionally to think about what survival and living after sexual assault means.
What made this such a great read for me was the lack on unity between the different essays. Each writer had a truly unique perspective that brought to light new understandings for me. It also made me want to try kickboxing.
My favorite essay by far was, "This (Traumatized, Kinky, Queer) Body Holds a Story," by Amber Dawn. The opening line of the essay was, "I am a poor, white, small-town slut..."
This was a difficult but necessary read. Each of the essays were validating in their own unique way, and there’s a lot to be learnt from every single one. I think one thing I took away from this is that silence is okay, and not speaking out doesn’t make you any less of a survivor - especially in a time where we’re told that survivors should be listened to, yet there is an expectation of survivors to be “perfect” and to be no longer dealing with their triggers and trauma. I appreciate that the underlying theme is that trauma isn’t a flaw and something that can be “cured”.
What a powerful book! These women (including trans and nonbinary) have been through trauma, and it's changed their lives forever. There's no cure in the book; there's no myth of going through some kind of healing and then being all better. The stories are about what actions, coping mechanisms, or life changes have made their lives bearable, or better, or (from their viewpoints) worthwhile.
There's quite a variety, even with just twelve stories. Two got into jock stuff: kickboxing and hockey. One starts her essay with, "I would not have made it through without rage," though of course there is much more to her story. A couple developed debilitating illnesses and had to deal with everything together. One lucked into a therapist who was exactly right for her.
A few of the essays near the beginning were a bit oblique, too indirect and literary for me. But they were all very well written. I think my favorite was "Not Over It, Not Fixed, and Living a Life Worth Living: A Disability Justice Version of Survivorhood" by disability activist Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha. The title says it all.
And, the book is Canadian. I liked the slightly-different-from-the-USA viewpoints, plus that explains the hockey.
Well done anthology of cases. Very informative for people who want to know how to support others and I guess for survivors themselves. I wasn't aware of the whole "good survivor" myth (which came up fully in the last two essays, but highly established in the previous ones), but I wasn't surprised to have read that. Trauma is an ongoing experience that takes a while to reconcile with, so it makes sense that as a society we still haven't found ways to support our own. Something we must definitely work on. The essay that goes like a theatre play (The Goose) was the best... So angst-inducing and with a heavy sense of claustrophobia and paranoia (even when nothing much happened).
The other essays were mostly autobiographical which made it clear that each survivor has their own way of coping. This was incredibly informative. I'm glad I read it.
I read the first chapter in a book store and cried. I felt acknowledged, heard and understood.
Each chapter is written by a different author. While I recommend reading the book entirely, please read whatever you need to get you through. I ended up reading about 4 chapters in total that I could identify with in some way or another, and I've already recommended it to my friends and family to better understand what follows AFTER assault in a raw, true form.
Good. Tough read but necessary. There were a few factual errors (Bastard out of Carolina, the film, not "banned in Canada" though it was in three provinces. And, so far as i could find on google anyway, the "trans panic" murder defence has never been successfully argued in the US.)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
It was really what I needed. Dealing with my own feelings and thoughts of SA. The variety of experiences validated my own and in that there is not one way to deal with it.
"When we are not fixed, not over it, still triggered, still feeling, still healing in our forties, fifties, sixties, and beyond we are not failing. We are remembering. We are learning from our survivorhood. We are moving from a model that gasps at our scars to one that wants to learn as much from them as possible. We are not an individual defect. We are a collective movement, a series of overlapping Survivor communities."
-Not over it, not fixed, and living a life worth living: a disability Justice vision of survivorhood By Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha From “Whatever Gets You Through Twelve survivors on life after sexual assault”
This…was not what I expected. It was so much more than that. It's going to be difficult to be objective and not get rather personal with this review, but that's to be expected given the subject matter. I was not expecting such a literary work but on that point it certainly delivered.
Even if you view this book purely as a work of literature, which would be a mistake, it's 10 out of 10 all the way. This is precisely what we should be doing with literature right now in my opinion - using art to have important and necessary conversations that we as a culture can't seem to have otherwise and ones that we -need- to have.
Of course if you feel a….draw to the subject matter you should definitely check it out this is easily one of the best things I've ever read and certainly in my top two or three of this year.
Okay personal stuff here. As a Survivor of multiple violations I found something in each of these women's stories that spoke to me directly it seemed. One of the great things about literature and using literature to talk about such things as rape is that it liberates the author to be able to tell the story however the hell they like. A great Triumph of what we nowadays call Creative nonfiction, and aside from the book's other merits, of which there are considerable number aside, it is an Exemplar of what creative non-fiction can do. Many of these are completely nonlinear narratives quite a few are entirely symbolic that all of them are powerful impactful and real. And there is no way to miss what's being discussed. Unlike what you might expect this is a very fast read and in terms of its pure writing quite engaging- enough so that I had to make myself read it in small doses, generally one section at a time, for my own well being.
Yes I'm aware of the subject matter but the writing itself is more than merely solid, it is exceptional and definitely told by people who understand the use and power of their Words
One of my favorite things about this book is it's rather clearly stated agenda. To completely collapse and ignore the standard cultural narrative surrounding these things and replace it with the only narrative that matters that of those who survived these experiences. In that it is quite political but my favorite kind of political that which seeks to unleash a truth upon the world and eradicate the lies that have come before.
To get into the specifics of each narrative would be both inappropriate and quite disrespectful the contents thereof should not be subject to such inanities such as literary criticism. Bluntly there is no way a simple synopses could do this work Justice So I shall not attempt to do so instead I will simply urge you to read it if you have the wherewithal to do so.
Yes it's about surviving but much more importantly it's about what comes after. It's about the part that begins when the bullshit patriarchal, media glazed cultural narrative ends. It's about the Long messy follow-up that casts very long Shadows on the lives of those affected. As a Survivor myself I found an unusual Community feeling manifesting as I progressed through the volume in that special way that lifts one's own burden. An odd thing? Surely. But a real thing.
Reading this made me feel better not worse despite the obvious possibility of very bad things coming from this though I would still learn caution to anyone else with a survivor engaging perhaps trepidatiously into the first few pages of this volume take it slowly at your own pace, and stop if you need to.
5 out of 5. Would give it a 6 if I could. Anything else I read on this related matters it's going to have a very high water mark indeed.
Really well done. Sometimes books of this kind lean into trying to be very directive when it comes to survivorhood, and end up falling flat. These essays all felt a lot more real, somehow, and the sum of them demonstrated that there is no one way to ‘heal’. It is so rare to hear from (and so important to highlight) the experiences of older survivors, although I personally also struggled with the perspective I gained from their chapters. Heart aches for anybody else who came here still somehow hoping for one, magic solution - none of us are alone.
Where has this been? This is the writing we need, the stories we need told. I don’t think I’m in a clear enough headspace to write any sort of review other than to say I ran out of the proverbial highlighter halfway through. Each woman, each essay, was uniquely their own and yet carried a piece, a facet of me in it.
This is the handbook of handbooks - you are not alone, you are valued and you can make it through because there is no wrong approach.
This book was incredible. A collection of essays and stories by survivors of sexual assault, based in Canada.
Reading many of the passages throughout this book was like taking words out of my mouth and writing them on a page. It was also extremely validating to hear other women’s stories and experiences, they were very similar to mine. It’s actually helped me to process some of my own thoughts and feeling around my own trauma.
This book left a lot to be desired for me. I read it and there was 1 story that was exactly what I thought. It was well done. One was ok. A lot of the others I just felt were poorly written, or worse nonsensical. What I was looking for was a connection to their stories. To how life changed, to how they got through. I didn't feel that.
All the essays in this book where very powerful! If you are a survivor of sexual assault, I feel this is a must read, it was for me. I found some parts really hard to get through, the emotional impact it had on me was indescribable. I was very pleased to see that two of the contributors of this book are trans women, that meant a lot to me!
validating “What do I want? To stop or continue? I want to be strong. I want to be good. I want to be fuckable. I want to be safe. I do not know. I do not know.” p.87
Some of the stories are raw, messy and hard to follow. However, so is sexual assault. I appreciated the authenticity in all of these stories and the authors willingness to share.
I LOVED the first essay (My Hand Becomes a Fist). Especially page 19 and the quote, "We say that fighting is violence, but here it was a kindness". The third essay (My Forbidden Room) didn't answer the prompt and didn't conform to the subject at hand. The second (The Goose) and the fourth (Skinny Days) were just plain weird. By the time I got to the fifth (The Salvation in my Sickness) I'd just given up hope and reading anything equal to or better than the first essay.
“[In this book} you’ll find [twelve] essays from [sexual assault] survivors who have rebuilt their lives around, and in spite of, that black hole of trauma…This book says there is a way forward, even if it’s not the prescribed or sanctioned one we’re used to…
With bravery, honesty, and generosity, these writers are creating connections from the raw material of their own experiences and making the days, months, and years a little easier for those who read their stories.”
The above quote (in italics) comes from this powerful anthology edited by Stacey May Fowles & Jen Sookfong Lee. Fowles and Lee are both writers.
What exactly is sexual assault? It is an act in which a person intentionally sexually touches another person without that person’s consent or coerces or physically forces a person to engage in a sexual act against their will. It is a form of sexual violence.
This book answers the following question:
What does it mean to be a survivor of sexual assault?
Using this question as their guide, each survivor (all writers) shares their own unique account of enduring their everyday emotional pain and trauma.
Here is a good description (taken from one of the essays) of what psychological trauma can do to a person:
“The trauma that results from terrifying life events over which we have no control is profound. It changes us in fundamental ways. The paralyzing helplessness of being trapped in a threatening situation results in a severe disruption of the nervous system.
The extreme stress affects how the brain works and makes it difficult for survivors of traumatic events to regulate their everyday biological functions—sleeping, breathing, talking, [and] even eating. Psychological traumatic experiences are harmful to the body in ways that are belied by the fact that in some instances we can escape these events with no physical wounds.
I had spent the better part of a decade bracing for what was [to come] next as the trauma had taken root within me expanded into a crushing anxiety that ultimately became impossible to ignore. My body, it seemed, was no longer my own, its recalcitrant movements reflexively attuned to events of the past.”
This is a book of coping strategies, endurance, and perhaps most importantly, resilience.
This book for me was somewhat emotionally difficult to read but it was worth it because it increased my understanding of the complexity of psychological trauma.
Finally, at the end of the book is a list of the names of the survivors who wrote these essays along with comments of who exactly they are. What I did before I read a particular essay was to learn who the writer was of that essay.
In conclusion, this is a searing anthology of testimonials from sexual assault survivors.
Reading these 12 stories is like being in a rape support group, hearing the intimate details and insights on what helped and hindered their survival process over time. They're all good. The deepest and most profound for me were: The Goose by Heather O'Neill My Forbidden Room by Alicia Elliott The Salvation in My Sickness by Kai Cheng Thom Weaving a Path to Healing by Elly Danica This Traumatized Kinky Queer Body Holds a Story by Amber Dawn Not Over It, Not Fixed, and Living a Life Worth Living: A Disability Justice Vision of Survivorhood by Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha The Mother You Need by Elizabeth de Mariaffi
Good read for those who don't want to feel alone in their experience, though obviously not every story will resonate with every reader. There were several realizations that I might not have had for years, and add many ways to survive as authors. I particularly enjoyed the authors who delt with the strains brought on by the need to put on a performance as a "good survivor."