On a summer night in 1984, nineteen-year-old UC Berkeley sophomore Karen Thomas leaves her uniformed patrol job and walks home alone in darkness. At the threshold of her apartment a man assaults her at knife point. After a soul-chilling struggle, she manages to escape.
Though she is left traumatized by her assault and the subsequent trial of her attacker, she herself goes on to become a criminal defense lawyer, defending those accused of crimes as heinous as the one committed against her.
Fast forward to 2014, thirty years after her assault, when her life, once again, appears to be crumbling. As she stumbles her way through the days navigating a dying marriage, devastating financial loss, and an elderly mother slipping into dementia, she becomes fascinated by her own anxiety and PTSD. Why does the body remember what the mind tries so desperately to forget? Her questions prompt a delayed obsession with her assailant: What became of him? What is he doing now? She begins a quest of excavation, determined to track him down.
What she discovers is life altering.
What A Body Remembers is an honest, from-the-gut account of one woman’s journey to regain her power and confidence―a journey that continues to this day.
How can an event fracture, cloud, and inspire a person? Karen Stefano weaves the fabric of her life from the single point of a needle in 1984 into a stifling blanket for all of us to wrap ourselves in and fling off enraged and unleashed.
One of the strengths of this memoir is that Stefano gives as much space & weight to the interiority of trauma—and how the aftermath of assault changes the ways we move through the world—as the events themselves. The book covers decades and reveals startling information about the attacker. I was fortunate to read an ARC of this book, and I'm still thinking about it.
Karen Stefano’s debut memoir, What a Body Remembers (Rare Bird Books), is a study in contradictions.
In 1984, Stefano was a typical student in many ways. She left San Diego to attend college at University of California, Berkeley, but the freshman had trouble fitting in and was rejected by every single sorority during rush week.
She found her family in the most unlikely of places: As a cadet with the University of California Police Department. The diminutive freshman, who stood 5’2” and weighed just 110 pounds, was an unlikely candidate for the job.
For someone who was considering a career in criminal justice, the university cops and cadets become something like a family to her. It was also where she met her boyfriend, another cadet.
Although Stefano wasn’t, in her words, a “real” police officer, she provided a valuable service as part of the escort program to walk students back to their apartments and dorms after a night of studying or socializing.
Then the unthinkable happened. She was followed home by a man with a knife who attacked Stefano outside her own apartment. She describes the night with gripping prose and unsparing detail.
“After there is no doctor, no ER. There is no need. There is no blood, no bones that need mending—just a bruise, a puffy soreness at my lips where his hand gripped my mouth. And a ravaged, rattled mind.”
The bulk of the memoir is focused on the aftermath of the attack, how it changed her and the steps she took to combat this new terror. This new normal, not only rattled her, but it corrupted her relationships.
The second half of the book deals with Stefano’s career as a criminal defense attorney, a job that required her to defend violent men with long, criminal histories. The hours were long and her caseload was brutal. But when she won, the victory gave her no pleasure because no matter how she rationalized it, a “not guilty” verdict wasn’t the same thing as “innocent.”
“Innocence. Innocence,” Stefano reflects after she helps a man walk free. “I have been robbed of mine.”
Stefano’s memoir is a poignant reflection on the nature of innocence lost, guilt that endures and the struggle to live with an unquiet past.
Karen Stefano’s memoir is a gripping read, fluid and crisp despite the passing of thirty years between many of the incidents she recalls and now.
Stefano repeatedly reminds us that trauma stays long after the experience has passed—bodies remember—but sometimes we have limited control over how and what we remember. Fear stays with us; however, so may courage. In the telling of this story, Stefano exhibits to readers strength throughout, all while finding fault with herself.
Her mother is an important figure, and her mother’s quiet love for her, and her own for her mother, however fraught their relationship at times, is also always palpable.
What a Body Remembers is an admirable and necessary book for all whom have experienced trauma, and for all those interested in understanding those who have. It is brave, unflinching, and well told.
As Stefano deftly reminds us, despite the oft-heard phrase we “want to experience everything,” we truly don’t. And when forced to experience the unspeakable, as Stefano did, we are best off if we look at it, utter it, and make others look too. It is only with eyes wide open that we can do more than survive the unspeakable—we can survive well. We can live fearless, even when we are afraid.
Karen Stefano is a lawyer and author. Her new memoir, What a Body Remembers: A Memoir of Sexual Assault and Its Aftermath, examines the lasting effects of trauma. Stefano was assaulted in college, went on to become a criminal defense attorney, and 30 years later was hit with anxiety and PTSD that she examines in her book.
Her story is as compelling as the most exciting criminal thriller. She also addresses the seeming paradox of going from a crime victim to defending accused criminals, which makes her story particularly interesting. Most important, Stefano shows how there are many ways to heal from trauma, that the path is not always straightforward, but usually more of a two steps forward, four steps back process.
What a Body Remembers is a powerful book and a great read for sexual assault survivors and their supporters, or anyone interested in “true crime” and our criminal justice system.
In What A Body Remembers, Karen Stefano creates a horrifying page turner, all the more horrifying because it is true, honest, and vulnerable. What resonates in the reader’s mind is the lasting effects of gender and other power dynamics in their myriad configurations. Karen takes us into that thin, raw place that no woman (or man) wants to be forced to go—the night she went from Karen to "victim"—and the aftermath of a life transformed. While some might consider her lucky, this story is both timely and able to address so much more than just assault of the body. Together, old and new Karen converge in a growing understanding of her assailant, and herself, and the ways in which their lives intersected and were changed forever.
The court system is not designed to protect women from sexual assault. Women who are attacked are inevitably retraumatized by the police and the courts if they try to seek justice. This is the grim takeaway message in this memoir, and while I already knew this, hearing this woman's personal story helped me to know it at a more visceral level. Depressing but real and worth a read if we are ever going to change things.
If you read one book this year, be sure to make it "What a Body Remembers" by Karen Stefano. The author shares her innermost thoughts as she looks back on a traumatic experience that forever changed the course of her life. This memoir is written with vulnerability, bravery and most of all, pure honesty.
When I bought this book, I expected an intimate story of trauma and healing. What I got was a page turning, real-life crime drama with 1980’s cultural references that took me back, fascinating psychological investigation, incredible honesty, and a 30-year in-the-making story that comes full circle in both terrifying, healing, and satisfying ways.
Brava, Karen Stefano, for this honest and tenacious reckoning, a necessary excavation of trauma, its imprint on the body and how that imprint steers a life over time. This is a compelling and powerful story, beautifully told. I am in awe of this writer’s courage, and generosity in sharing this urgent grappling with us. “The past makes the present ache.”
There is so much going on in this world right now and I wanted to read this book to more deeply understand how and why people respond the way they do to certain things. We are all shaped by our life experiences. I thought it would give me a better understanding, some sympathy, some empathy. It gave me that and so much more.
This book is riveting, absolutely crackling with electricity. The juxtaposition of the analytical narrative and the intense body-feel evocation of the physical drives the tension throughout. Impressive and captivating.
This memoir is so compelling and so important. I heard the author interviewed on a podcast and knew right away I wanted to read her book. I was blown away by it. One of the best books on trauma I’ve read.
It was kind of confusing how the title starts as it does and then listening to the book unfold. But overall, it could relate to a lot of it, and it wasn't terrible. Would it be something I go back to? Probably not, but I'm glad I read it still.