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The Lotus Eaters: A memoir
Since childhood, Emily Clements’ sense of self had always been shaped by the opinions of others and the need to be liked.
When a stand-off with her best friend sees nineteen-year-old Emily stranded in Vietnam, she is alone for the first time and adrift in a new environment. With seemingly nothing to lose, she makes the biggest decision of her life – to stay. But Emily's attempts to bridge a yawning loneliness spur a downward spiral of recklessness, as she hurtles from one sexual encounter to the next. It will take a truly terrifying experience for her to understand that sex is both a weapon and a wound in her battle for self-worth and empowerment.
Delicately interweaving past and present, The Lotus Eaters is a sharply written story of self-redemption from an exciting young voice in Australian memoir that dissects the patterns of blame and shame women can form around their bodies and relationships.
When a stand-off with her best friend sees nineteen-year-old Emily stranded in Vietnam, she is alone for the first time and adrift in a new environment. With seemingly nothing to lose, she makes the biggest decision of her life – to stay. But Emily's attempts to bridge a yawning loneliness spur a downward spiral of recklessness, as she hurtles from one sexual encounter to the next. It will take a truly terrifying experience for her to understand that sex is both a weapon and a wound in her battle for self-worth and empowerment.
Delicately interweaving past and present, The Lotus Eaters is a sharply written story of self-redemption from an exciting young voice in Australian memoir that dissects the patterns of blame and shame women can form around their bodies and relationships.
- GenresNonfictionMemoir
320 pages, Paperback
Published February 1, 2020
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Displaying 1 - 21 of 21 reviews
February 12, 2020
A brilliant debut from Emily Clements. This memoir was affirming of those awkward teen and young adult years. Emily gives so much of herself in these pages as she writes of her time in Vietnam with flashbacks to her teen years. She allows us into the very private place of trying to understand and to live herself for who she is. The writing on the page is superb. Lush sentences and beautiful metaphors. I highly recommend this to anyone who has questioned their place in the world
October 24, 2025
I found this book engrossing but uncomfortable reading. I had every sympathy for the narrator, but I found myself being both saddened and shocked by her naivety — and her honesty about it.
March 26, 2020
This book has some beautiful descriptions of Vietnam and it’s countryside, as well as an interesting insight into how life works there. The meandering of the countryside compared to the bustle of the city and the evocation of the sights, sounds and smells is masterful, making the reader feel as though they really are there, watching everything unfold.
With that being said, this book left me uncomfortable.
It reads like an ‘Eat, Pray, Love’, the co-opted experience of a white woman centering her own narrative in a world where, to be quite fair, she’s not the focus. I can see how she got the tying of her identity to her school days and the constant need for attention, but it doesn’t sit right with me. The way she speaks about the men she meets also got to me a bit- her points about toxic masculinity are salient, but the suggestion of her constant fetishisation as a white woman was uncomfortable at best. Not in that I couldn’t deal with it, but in that there are so many narratives from those who are fetishised in far more severe ways that get overlooked.
The author’s penultimate experience with a man (trying to stay spoiler free here) also sat very badly with me. The overwhelming naïvety was painful, and I just felt like screaming at her at regular intervals. Sometimes, you have to save yourself, even if it means throwing yourself from a moving vehicle.
The writing is lovely in some places, and I particularly liked the aerobics class whenever it was brought up. With that being said, this is a selfish book in its own way, and it didn’t go down easy.
With that being said, this book left me uncomfortable.
It reads like an ‘Eat, Pray, Love’, the co-opted experience of a white woman centering her own narrative in a world where, to be quite fair, she’s not the focus. I can see how she got the tying of her identity to her school days and the constant need for attention, but it doesn’t sit right with me. The way she speaks about the men she meets also got to me a bit- her points about toxic masculinity are salient, but the suggestion of her constant fetishisation as a white woman was uncomfortable at best. Not in that I couldn’t deal with it, but in that there are so many narratives from those who are fetishised in far more severe ways that get overlooked.
The author’s penultimate experience with a man (trying to stay spoiler free here) also sat very badly with me. The overwhelming naïvety was painful, and I just felt like screaming at her at regular intervals. Sometimes, you have to save yourself, even if it means throwing yourself from a moving vehicle.
The writing is lovely in some places, and I particularly liked the aerobics class whenever it was brought up. With that being said, this is a selfish book in its own way, and it didn’t go down easy.
February 13, 2020
Named for the Greek myth about a race of people who indulge in hedonism rather than dealing with the realities of life, The Lotus Eaters follows two time lines: the author throughout adolescence, and the author, aged 19, living in Vietnam, having just fled from her toxic best friend. The earlier memories show a girl desperate for social approval, self-conscious about body image and hungry for male attention – even when it’s interlaced with danger or disquiet. The impact of Clements’ experiences as a girl mirror her life in Vietnam where, after years of conditioning, she sees her body as a powerful tool that can easily betray her – and finds herself in a terrifying situation that is the catalyst for an empowering personal shift.
Clements is a beautiful writer – her descriptions of the bucolic Vietnamese countryside and the bustling streets of Hanoi are lush with detail, and she’s a deft hand at building suspense and intrigue. The sharpness of her language hits especially during the more disturbing scenes of sexual trauma, as she describes the conflicting emotions she experiences and the complexity of desire. While this speaks powerfully to difficult, unresolved societal questions about gender relations, sex and consent, some of the repetition in the book could perhaps have been cut without losing the potency of these ideas.
As a Western traveller to Vietnam, Clements addresses some of the implications of her whiteness, but there’s no sense of any deep understanding of the culture – it often feels as though Vietnam and its people, depicted largely as emotionally stunted, are storytelling props. Clements paints a universal picture of toxic masculinity, but fails to contextualise it culturally. There’s barely any mention of Vietnam’s troubling history, much of which is steeped in its own trauma. This lack of cultural awareness, and the centring of white womanhood, evokes a jarring, uncomfortable sense of colonialism.
With The Lotus Eaters, Clements has woven a compelling narrative that offers insights into the consequences of gendered societal pressure – but there’s a nagging feeling of an unexplored privilege that renders the picture incomplete.
(Review originally published in The Saturday Paper)
Clements is a beautiful writer – her descriptions of the bucolic Vietnamese countryside and the bustling streets of Hanoi are lush with detail, and she’s a deft hand at building suspense and intrigue. The sharpness of her language hits especially during the more disturbing scenes of sexual trauma, as she describes the conflicting emotions she experiences and the complexity of desire. While this speaks powerfully to difficult, unresolved societal questions about gender relations, sex and consent, some of the repetition in the book could perhaps have been cut without losing the potency of these ideas.
As a Western traveller to Vietnam, Clements addresses some of the implications of her whiteness, but there’s no sense of any deep understanding of the culture – it often feels as though Vietnam and its people, depicted largely as emotionally stunted, are storytelling props. Clements paints a universal picture of toxic masculinity, but fails to contextualise it culturally. There’s barely any mention of Vietnam’s troubling history, much of which is steeped in its own trauma. This lack of cultural awareness, and the centring of white womanhood, evokes a jarring, uncomfortable sense of colonialism.
With The Lotus Eaters, Clements has woven a compelling narrative that offers insights into the consequences of gendered societal pressure – but there’s a nagging feeling of an unexplored privilege that renders the picture incomplete.
(Review originally published in The Saturday Paper)
July 31, 2020
Emily Clements alternates between being 19yo and alone in Vietnam, and her adolescent years in Australia. It's a story about the low self-esteem brought about by the unrealistic expectations on women's, and adolescent girls', bodies, and the cruelty of young people.
This book really wasn't for me. It was one uncomfortable, barely consensual sex scene after another, with the author continually putting herself in risky situations. Even when one of these situations causes real, protracted danger and discomfort, the author doesn't seem to learn much from this, leaving this reader frustrated.
Other reviews praise her beautiful descriptions of Vietnam, but I barely noticed them against the enduring awkwardness. Vietnamese men are portrayed as interested in nothing but getting inside white women's undies.
The story clips along at a good pace and I was never bored, so this saves it from a 2 star rating (plus I find it very hard to be critical of someone's actual life). But there was really nothing enjoyable or particularly insightful about it. 2.5 stars reluctantly rounded up.
This book really wasn't for me. It was one uncomfortable, barely consensual sex scene after another, with the author continually putting herself in risky situations. Even when one of these situations causes real, protracted danger and discomfort, the author doesn't seem to learn much from this, leaving this reader frustrated.
Other reviews praise her beautiful descriptions of Vietnam, but I barely noticed them against the enduring awkwardness. Vietnamese men are portrayed as interested in nothing but getting inside white women's undies.
The story clips along at a good pace and I was never bored, so this saves it from a 2 star rating (plus I find it very hard to be critical of someone's actual life). But there was really nothing enjoyable or particularly insightful about it. 2.5 stars reluctantly rounded up.
April 11, 2020
This was hard to read. Not because it was badly written, Clements is a talented writer and she perfectly evokes the feel of South East Asia. But it pained me to read about her low self worth, the misogyny and the abuse she experienced. A difficult coming of age.
May 13, 2023
hard to read but i couldn’t stop
March 1, 2020
In the author's note preceding the memoir, Clements stresses that "everything is true". I wish that were not the case. The adolescent and young adult Clements presented in her confronting text was a naive, confused, and sometimes self-hating female who carried unresolved blame and shame from her childhood. The mirror in which she saw herself was so warped that she allowed herself to be played with - emotionally, psychologically and later, sexually - desperate to be wanted, to be the special one in someone's eyes.
The narrative switched from early memories of her domination and ultimate betrayal by teenaged friend, Tegin, to her recounting of her overseas experience in Vietnam. During the year of her travel, Clements described the series of her casual sexual experiences - all of which left me startled by the lack of her common sense and her disregard for her own safety. I had no confidence that she had learned enough about herself, about how her inner pain drove her to be used and to use her body as a means to soothe the self-deprecating voices within her. I did not feel as sympathetic to her situations as I felt utterly annoyed by her failure to grow. Unlike the blurb on the back of the book, I did not see "self-redemption." I also found disappointing the author's failure to analyse the Vietnamese culture of the men with whom she was involved as the "white" Westerner. A disappointing text in so many ways.
The narrative switched from early memories of her domination and ultimate betrayal by teenaged friend, Tegin, to her recounting of her overseas experience in Vietnam. During the year of her travel, Clements described the series of her casual sexual experiences - all of which left me startled by the lack of her common sense and her disregard for her own safety. I had no confidence that she had learned enough about herself, about how her inner pain drove her to be used and to use her body as a means to soothe the self-deprecating voices within her. I did not feel as sympathetic to her situations as I felt utterly annoyed by her failure to grow. Unlike the blurb on the back of the book, I did not see "self-redemption." I also found disappointing the author's failure to analyse the Vietnamese culture of the men with whom she was involved as the "white" Westerner. A disappointing text in so many ways.
April 25, 2020
A truely amazing memoir that kept me captivated the whole time!! Such a profound, interesting, and devastating read
April 5, 2020
I loved just about everything about this book. The writing style is captivating and real. A lot of the negative reviews point to her naivety being hard to swallow.
Personally I found it raw and almost therapeutic. It highlights the danger, folly, and adventure of being a young woman. It is more of a confessional of the author, learning from her past.
Her descriptions and appreciation of Vietnam were also really captivating.
I agree it is unsettling, but the truth often is.
Personally I found it raw and almost therapeutic. It highlights the danger, folly, and adventure of being a young woman. It is more of a confessional of the author, learning from her past.
Her descriptions and appreciation of Vietnam were also really captivating.
I agree it is unsettling, but the truth often is.
February 24, 2021
Though the author of this memoir is relatable to most young women, I found myself annoyed by her inner monologues at times. While her experiences in Vietnam were vivid, I felt that no real conclusions or learnings were drawn about certain events - they just sort of happen.
September 28, 2024
There are dark vaulted libraries full of diaries hiding teenage secrets. Flotillas of friends who have silent garrisons guarding bad decision young adult moments. This book is not among their ranks.
In a book outlining frightening friendships, silent moments of shame and sexual and mental abuse, I decided to bear witness, to keep going and to see how it would end. I was compelled and read the book in two days. Almost unheard of for me.
Many of the reviews of this title, the author's first book, use the word uncomfortable. And at times yes, it is an uncomfortable read. But it is real and it is raw. And there was no over-writing I felt, or purple prose. I felt much of it was relayed pretty much as I imagined it happened, without comment or even awareness, let alone recognition of what the author was going through.
At a time when many young people like to present themselves on social media at their physical, mental and emotional best, Emily Clements has laid it bare. There, she almost says.
I liked this book because it was real and had an honesty that neither came with a moral nor acted upon one.
It made me think and it made me remember.
I grew up with people like this. We did wonder why, and therein, I believe, lies the question.
Why would the author be so revealing? Why would the author lay it all out there on the table, for all to see?
Some reviewers question Clements' judgement on why she repeated the same mistakes again and again.
Even the cover blurb, 'Sometimes maddening. Sometimes devastating. Always putdownable,' warns.
But I think this book is more than all of that. And the words that come to mind are, 'Do or die.'
Some of the reviews suggest the author didn't learn or even change her ways. But I disagree and wonder that maybe those commentators are placing their own values, shadowy secrets and fears onto her memories.
The author herself states, 'To access my own power, I would have had to unlock the small parts of my body and let all the hurt stored there come flooding through the whole of me.'
Some reviews even suggested a white privilege and the smugness of colonialisation.
But look at the facts. This woman had few western friends. She didn't have a gaggle of expat mates to swap notes with. She, possibly because of circumstance, began a new life. She learned a new language, she lived with locals, she formed real and terrifying relationships at the age of nineteen.
Other expats in Vietnam books that I have read suggest Vietnamese men do not show attention to Western women. But this memoir tells a different tale.
Often, when travellers, usually women, travel to foreign countries to live or to work on their own, they are told that they are brave. I have done both, but I wouldn't say that I was brave.
This book, on the other hand shows an author who lived with her demons, partially unknown, as a young woman, so far from home and stayed and tried to cope as best she could.
The ending suggests that Clements, after all that she had experienced, knew she was on a threshold. And indeed she was.
And when she went home, she grew up even more and wrote about it. And this award-winning book was born. Now that is what I call brave.
Chuc mung Emily Clements, you have a new fan.
In a book outlining frightening friendships, silent moments of shame and sexual and mental abuse, I decided to bear witness, to keep going and to see how it would end. I was compelled and read the book in two days. Almost unheard of for me.
Many of the reviews of this title, the author's first book, use the word uncomfortable. And at times yes, it is an uncomfortable read. But it is real and it is raw. And there was no over-writing I felt, or purple prose. I felt much of it was relayed pretty much as I imagined it happened, without comment or even awareness, let alone recognition of what the author was going through.
At a time when many young people like to present themselves on social media at their physical, mental and emotional best, Emily Clements has laid it bare. There, she almost says.
I liked this book because it was real and had an honesty that neither came with a moral nor acted upon one.
It made me think and it made me remember.
I grew up with people like this. We did wonder why, and therein, I believe, lies the question.
Why would the author be so revealing? Why would the author lay it all out there on the table, for all to see?
Some reviewers question Clements' judgement on why she repeated the same mistakes again and again.
Even the cover blurb, 'Sometimes maddening. Sometimes devastating. Always putdownable,' warns.
But I think this book is more than all of that. And the words that come to mind are, 'Do or die.'
Some of the reviews suggest the author didn't learn or even change her ways. But I disagree and wonder that maybe those commentators are placing their own values, shadowy secrets and fears onto her memories.
The author herself states, 'To access my own power, I would have had to unlock the small parts of my body and let all the hurt stored there come flooding through the whole of me.'
Some reviews even suggested a white privilege and the smugness of colonialisation.
But look at the facts. This woman had few western friends. She didn't have a gaggle of expat mates to swap notes with. She, possibly because of circumstance, began a new life. She learned a new language, she lived with locals, she formed real and terrifying relationships at the age of nineteen.
Other expats in Vietnam books that I have read suggest Vietnamese men do not show attention to Western women. But this memoir tells a different tale.
Often, when travellers, usually women, travel to foreign countries to live or to work on their own, they are told that they are brave. I have done both, but I wouldn't say that I was brave.
This book, on the other hand shows an author who lived with her demons, partially unknown, as a young woman, so far from home and stayed and tried to cope as best she could.
The ending suggests that Clements, after all that she had experienced, knew she was on a threshold. And indeed she was.
And when she went home, she grew up even more and wrote about it. And this award-winning book was born. Now that is what I call brave.
Chuc mung Emily Clements, you have a new fan.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 17, 2020
Someone recommended this book to me because I went to Vietnam this summer during my gap year. Emily’s Hanoi is not the Hanoi I knew, and I think Vietnam has modernized quite a bit since her time there. Foreigners are no longer that “foreign,” and I was fortunate to be part of a vibrant expat community. The Hanoi that I lived in had grand pianos in penthouse apartments (albeit across the street from a bánh cuốn stall).
However, Emily captures the vulnerability of being alone and abroad remarkably well: a lot of chutzpah and thirst for adventure mixed with naïveté and insecurity, all of which is compounded by loneliness. Young and eager, but not wise enough to know better. There is a really poignant scene in the book when a French singer tells Emily, “You are too innocent. I know it. I know it as soon as I see you. It is in your face. How old are you?“ And when I first read this line, I wondered how people could just tell.
In one of my favorite short stories, Jhumpa Lahiri quips, “[Sexy] means loving someone you don’t know.” Emily echoes this idea when she writes, “A stranger didn’t know my mind, didn’t know if I was smart or stupid or likable.” Emily’s relationships are not long or meaningful enough for her to be valued for her full worth, so they become transactional.
Emily learns that even unwanted attention comes at a cost. “You don’t get it both ways. You can’t have him just want you and that be it. There’s a price to pay for that kind of power.” By the end do the book, we realize that Emily is not a hedonistic “lotus eater,” just a teenage girl who is too afraid to say no, too eager to please, and too guileless to know that something is always expected in return; she is young enough to mistake opportunity for kindness. That is innocence.
However, Emily captures the vulnerability of being alone and abroad remarkably well: a lot of chutzpah and thirst for adventure mixed with naïveté and insecurity, all of which is compounded by loneliness. Young and eager, but not wise enough to know better. There is a really poignant scene in the book when a French singer tells Emily, “You are too innocent. I know it. I know it as soon as I see you. It is in your face. How old are you?“ And when I first read this line, I wondered how people could just tell.
In one of my favorite short stories, Jhumpa Lahiri quips, “[Sexy] means loving someone you don’t know.” Emily echoes this idea when she writes, “A stranger didn’t know my mind, didn’t know if I was smart or stupid or likable.” Emily’s relationships are not long or meaningful enough for her to be valued for her full worth, so they become transactional.
Emily learns that even unwanted attention comes at a cost. “You don’t get it both ways. You can’t have him just want you and that be it. There’s a price to pay for that kind of power.” By the end do the book, we realize that Emily is not a hedonistic “lotus eater,” just a teenage girl who is too afraid to say no, too eager to please, and too guileless to know that something is always expected in return; she is young enough to mistake opportunity for kindness. That is innocence.
March 6, 2020
Young women need to tell their own stories. And they are not always easy to read because life in your teens and twenties can be incredibly difficult and finding yourself is not a fairy tale journey. Emily Clements is honestly lucky to be alive but I am genuinely very glad she is because this book is excellent and part of a group of books that are really important. It is brutally honest and I think some will judge based on her sexual journey but it is best that people look instead at what an amazing young woman. She survived a toxic teenage friendship and managed to work and live in Vietnam, learning the language on the fly. She is now back in Australia and has written a book! And not just any book but a stunning book, a book to open eyes and start thoughts and conversation.
I also think the admittedly brief descriptions of her parents relationship should be a red flag for many parents - your relationship impacts your child as does the casual cruelty some dish out.
I found this review excellent...
https://www.smh.com.au/culture/books/...
Not because it is perfect. There is a lot more I'd like to know but this book deserves more than 4...
My Goodreads star rating... *****
My Goodreads scale:
* waste of time
**filled in time
***good
****excellent
*****absolutely amazing
I also think the admittedly brief descriptions of her parents relationship should be a red flag for many parents - your relationship impacts your child as does the casual cruelty some dish out.
I found this review excellent...
https://www.smh.com.au/culture/books/...
Not because it is perfect. There is a lot more I'd like to know but this book deserves more than 4...
My Goodreads star rating... *****
My Goodreads scale:
* waste of time
**filled in time
***good
****excellent
*****absolutely amazing
February 26, 2020
This book made me uncomfortable partly because the story is all too common and so depressing. It’s a book you want to give to a teenage girl in the hope it stops her making the same mistakes.Having said that I struggled with the juxtaposition of the toxic friendship against the series of abusive and exploitative experiences at the hands of men. Yes these two experiences frequently co-exist but I am not sure one can be said to cause the other (disclaimer: my reading of the book). It felt like it was almost an out for the men: my friendship destroyed my confidence and self esteem and made me powerless to stand up to/prevent these abusive experiences/assaults. The behaviour was predatory, that sits sorely with the perpetrator.
Not a book for parents of kids about to head off on a gap year!!!!
Not a book for parents of kids about to head off on a gap year!!!!
February 11, 2020
Reading The Lotus Eaters, I found myself in awe of the fullness of descriptions, the tangible feelings offered up in ways I hadn't read before.
After finishing this book I felt calmer, more understood and appreciative of Emily's vulnerability. I had been given new lenses to see myself through, ones that were kinder and more gentle than before I had begun.
I have been recommending The Lotus Eaters to everyone I know.
After finishing this book I felt calmer, more understood and appreciative of Emily's vulnerability. I had been given new lenses to see myself through, ones that were kinder and more gentle than before I had begun.
I have been recommending The Lotus Eaters to everyone I know.
March 6, 2020
I found this read to be almost haunting in its sorrow, with Clements seemingly resigned to her inescapable fate. It was hard to reconcile this as a memoir rather than an art house film script. I’m still not sure what to make of it which could be a good or a bad thing?
February 9, 2023
I picked this up to take to Vietnam while travelling and loved it.
I loved the descriptions of Vietnam as well as the author’s trials and troubles - I really thought it was an excellent story.
It is a great read especially as a young Australian woman interested in Vietnam.
I loved the descriptions of Vietnam as well as the author’s trials and troubles - I really thought it was an excellent story.
It is a great read especially as a young Australian woman interested in Vietnam.
November 13, 2021
Beautiful writing, but so uncomfortable to read.
December 18, 2022
Liked a fair few of the ideas in this but I wasn't clear on motivations or the point of some passages. Think the messages could have been put across in a more coherent and engaging way.
Nearly dnf .
Nearly dnf .
October 6, 2023
A deeply uncomfortable memoir of self-destruction
Displaying 1 - 21 of 21 reviews