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A History of Scars: A Memoir
From a writer whose work has been called “breathtaking and dazzling” by Roxane Gay, this moving, illuminating, and multifaceted memoir explores, in a series of essays, the emotional scars we carry when dealing with mental and physical illnesses—reminiscent of The Collected Schizophrenias and An Unquiet Mind.
In this stunning debut, Laura Lee weaves unforgettable and eye-opening essays on a variety of taboo topics.
In “History of Scars” and “Aluminum’s Erosions,” Laura dives head-first into heavier themes revolving around intimacy, sexuality, trauma, mental illness, and the passage of time. In “Poetry of the World,” Laura shifts and addresses the grief she feels by being geographically distant from her mother whom, after being diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s, is relocated to a nursing home in Korea.
Through the vivid imagery of mountain climbing, cooking, studying writing, and growing up Korean American, Lee explores the legacy of trauma on a young queer child of immigrants as she reconciles the disparate pieces of existence that make her whole.
By tapping into her own personal, emotional, and psychological struggles in these powerful and relatable essays, Lee encourages all of us to not be afraid to face our own hardships and inner truths.
In this stunning debut, Laura Lee weaves unforgettable and eye-opening essays on a variety of taboo topics.
In “History of Scars” and “Aluminum’s Erosions,” Laura dives head-first into heavier themes revolving around intimacy, sexuality, trauma, mental illness, and the passage of time. In “Poetry of the World,” Laura shifts and addresses the grief she feels by being geographically distant from her mother whom, after being diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s, is relocated to a nursing home in Korea.
Through the vivid imagery of mountain climbing, cooking, studying writing, and growing up Korean American, Lee explores the legacy of trauma on a young queer child of immigrants as she reconciles the disparate pieces of existence that make her whole.
By tapping into her own personal, emotional, and psychological struggles in these powerful and relatable essays, Lee encourages all of us to not be afraid to face our own hardships and inner truths.
207 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 2, 2021
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 81 reviews
July 21, 2020
Laura Lee’s A History of Scars is an astonishingly elegant memoir in essays. In each part of this whole, Lee takes the reader on an intriguing journey, one where she begins a story in one place and ends somewhere entirely unexpected. She dissects the bodily experience of trauma, identity, family histories, and romantic relationships with intelligence and intimacy. She puts us into the natural wonders of the world as she shares her passion for climbing, how an ascent is never linear and neither is a life lived. Lee asks complex questions of herself and the reader and refuses to surrender to easy answers about who she is and how she has created a place for herself and who she is in this world. The grace and strength of her writing will move you higher and higher. This debut memoir is a triumph. Laura Lee has planted her flag in the world of letters and it’s time to take notice.
Laura is one of my thesis students from Purdue and I am so very proud. It was a pleasure working on an earlier version of this book with her. I learned as much as I taught.
Laura is one of my thesis students from Purdue and I am so very proud. It was a pleasure working on an earlier version of this book with her. I learned as much as I taught.
January 15, 2023
At times beautifully written and moving. But moving back and forth in time by reminiscing made me unsure about what the author wanted with the text. I would have loved if she dedicated more time to her mental health issues, too.
January 14, 2021
To speak requires trust—that someone will listen.
There is a cathartic, confessional quality to Lee’s writing. These are essays that, unadorned, resist the narrativizing of queerness and race, of trauma, abuse, and mental illness, into sensational stories. I admit that I struggled with the initial essays, which were frank yet somehow ambiguous, a combination that didn’t personally work for me—but the later essays had me absolutely enraptured.
Above all, there is no doubt that the subject matter throughout this collection is significant and compelling, even as—or perhaps because—A History of Scars deliberately resists cohesion, instead embodying the nonlinearity that Lee espouses.
My favourite essays had to do with Lee’s Pakistani girlfriend—in their relationship, I saw mirrored many of my own insecurities but also hopes—and Lee’s relationship with food and cooking, where the prose lengthens, loosens, gathers steam and vibrancy and intimate resonance.
Bottom line: Regardless of my or anyone else’s opinion, this is an important book, a complex story. I am infinitely glad it has been spoken for me and others to listen.
Thank you NetGalley and Atria Books for this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
January 31, 2021
I'm too sensitive for this world. And yet I'm here.
In A History of Scars Laura Lee details her relationship with her mother who suffered from Alzheimer's, her sisters who she had a less than stellar relationship with, her father who was not really present. On top of all of this Laura has a mental illness that impacts how she views the world. She walks us through all of this in her debut memoir.
In A History of Scars Laura Lee details her relationship with her mother who suffered from Alzheimer's, her sisters who she had a less than stellar relationship with, her father who was not really present. On top of all of this Laura has a mental illness that impacts how she views the world. She walks us through all of this in her debut memoir.
August 25, 2021
I wrote more about this book here: https://booksandbakes.substack.com/p/...
Absolutely stunning. The sheer amount of thought and intimacy and raw honesty and memory that Lee packs into this short book is incredible. It's a book about trauma and family history and illness and queerness and messy romantic entanglements, and it is also deeply grounded in the physical. Lee's writing about climbing and food, especially, both the emotional and physical realties of those two things, is just so good.
Absolutely stunning. The sheer amount of thought and intimacy and raw honesty and memory that Lee packs into this short book is incredible. It's a book about trauma and family history and illness and queerness and messy romantic entanglements, and it is also deeply grounded in the physical. Lee's writing about climbing and food, especially, both the emotional and physical realties of those two things, is just so good.
January 6, 2022
200 very intense pages. And almost impossible to evaluate. This book is so intimate, so stark in its openness, so pure and raw and elegant at the same time.
Apart from its high literary value it smoothes the way for conversations about trauma and (mental) illness. There are not many books like this.
Sometimes there were redundances that startled me, because they seemed less literary then mishaps. But maybe I just didn't get the point, and even if they are mishaps, it's minor marks in the supreme body of this texts, that make the other parts sparkle even more.
Apart from its high literary value it smoothes the way for conversations about trauma and (mental) illness. There are not many books like this.
Sometimes there were redundances that startled me, because they seemed less literary then mishaps. But maybe I just didn't get the point, and even if they are mishaps, it's minor marks in the supreme body of this texts, that make the other parts sparkle even more.
July 26, 2022
My favorite love language is trying, and she never tired of trying.
March 30, 2021
Lee describes one of the cruelest aspects of schizophrenia in a way that shook me and had me saying, there's a name for it:
Alogia, for example: a lack or poverty of speech, one of the so-called negative symptoms of my illness. I’ve experienced this my whole life without having a name for it. This has only grown more pronounced for me, to the point that engaging verbally with others, beyond my partner, is grueling. With her I can prattle on so she forgets, until we’re in the company of others, that around others, I barely speak at all.
When I used to attend, with my partner’s friends, doughnut Sundays, I stayed silent, noticeably silent, embarrassingly silent, during conversation. Her friends didn’t know that these occasions were often the only social engagement I’d had in a week’s time, if not longer—and that this absence of social engagement isn’t accidental, but purposeful, one of the only ways I can find to ameliorate my condition, despite the tremendous loneliness that accompanies such social isolation.
My silence has always been a problem. Others have attributed negative intent on my behalf, assuming my silence is selfish, that I am purposely keeping back my thoughts for myself, when in reality, I am often too afraid to speak, not sure when and where to insert myself into the conversation. Like a novice trying to surf, my movements are uncoordinated—I’m not quite sure when to throw myself up onto my elbows, push and stand, and so instead I lie passively, while the waves of conversation lap and tide, and I miss every appropriate window to enter midstream.
More than simple fear, I oftentimes am simply unable to verbalize—a symptom of my illness that has become more pronounced. Being robbed of the ability to speak means lacking the social graces of small talk. It means missing out on connection. It means being unable to voice inner objections.
The negative and cognitive symptoms of my illness are what are so disabling. These symptoms, the ones no one talks about, recognizes, or knows, are the ones that render me nearly nonfunctional so frequently. The positive symptoms—the hallucinations, the delusions—are what keep me terrified of what could be.
Alogia, for example: a lack or poverty of speech, one of the so-called negative symptoms of my illness. I’ve experienced this my whole life without having a name for it. This has only grown more pronounced for me, to the point that engaging verbally with others, beyond my partner, is grueling. With her I can prattle on so she forgets, until we’re in the company of others, that around others, I barely speak at all.
When I used to attend, with my partner’s friends, doughnut Sundays, I stayed silent, noticeably silent, embarrassingly silent, during conversation. Her friends didn’t know that these occasions were often the only social engagement I’d had in a week’s time, if not longer—and that this absence of social engagement isn’t accidental, but purposeful, one of the only ways I can find to ameliorate my condition, despite the tremendous loneliness that accompanies such social isolation.
My silence has always been a problem. Others have attributed negative intent on my behalf, assuming my silence is selfish, that I am purposely keeping back my thoughts for myself, when in reality, I am often too afraid to speak, not sure when and where to insert myself into the conversation. Like a novice trying to surf, my movements are uncoordinated—I’m not quite sure when to throw myself up onto my elbows, push and stand, and so instead I lie passively, while the waves of conversation lap and tide, and I miss every appropriate window to enter midstream.
More than simple fear, I oftentimes am simply unable to verbalize—a symptom of my illness that has become more pronounced. Being robbed of the ability to speak means lacking the social graces of small talk. It means missing out on connection. It means being unable to voice inner objections.
The negative and cognitive symptoms of my illness are what are so disabling. These symptoms, the ones no one talks about, recognizes, or knows, are the ones that render me nearly nonfunctional so frequently. The positive symptoms—the hallucinations, the delusions—are what keep me terrified of what could be.
March 30, 2025
sorry probably a me thing, but I never recovered after all of the climbing talk
March 21, 2021
I really wanted to enjoy this more than I did. I found different parts really interesting and moving but together it felt a bit jumbled, like too much was going on and it was hard to keep up with. Still, I felt the heart and soul poured into this memoir and appreciate the work that went into that.
July 20, 2021
Beautiful writing. I will keep thinking and feeling this one for some time. I thought I was checking out an audio book of this, but it was an e-book. I thought I'd read a little to see what it was like, and I fell all the way in. The compassion inside seems more forceful, more related to survival, and makes it easy to see the danger of climbing as an expression of intense attunement.
March 30, 2025
This one was just ok for me. As someone who's never rock climbed before, the passages where the author goes into the minutea of it all went over my head. However the parts where she delves into the parentification she had to go through were very compelling, and I have to admire that she didn't shy away from the uglier side of it. The narrarator for the audiobook was very good as well.
May 16, 2021
I absolutely loved this book. In a series of essays, Laura Lee dives deep into her physical and emotional experience of trauma and mental health within the framework of being queer, Korean-American, a foodie, writer, climber, and more.
Trauma: We all have deeply, deeply personal experiences that we can't even imagine sharing with even those closest to us. The bravery and vulnerability with which Lee bared these exact kind of experiences in this book was incredibly moving. It motivated me to reflect on my own emotional scars and acknowledge how they have shaped me to who I am today, for better or for worse.
Resilience: Lee exemplifies how extreme pain, helplessness, grief, and trauma can co-exist with intense joy, love, strength, and accomplishment in one body. It was incredibly uplifting to read how she chooses to be motivated by love and connection despite her past, present, and future adversity.
THE WRITING. Her writing is incredibly honest and straightforward in the most elegant way so that I couldn't put the book down despite its emotional weight. While some might say that the writing feels meandering or fragmented at times, I wasn't turned off by this. I think this kind of format where Lee jumps around various thoughts and memories of her life accurately reflects the undeniable non-linearity of narrative. She mentioned that she struggled with cohesion as a writer, but I thought her writing was beautifully concise and powerful. She captures extremely complex emotions and sentiments in her words so well. You can truly feel her intention with each and every word. She tells it how it is with acute perception, intimacy, and grace.
Thank you Laura Lee for your vulnerability and strength in sharing this book with the world.
Trauma: We all have deeply, deeply personal experiences that we can't even imagine sharing with even those closest to us. The bravery and vulnerability with which Lee bared these exact kind of experiences in this book was incredibly moving. It motivated me to reflect on my own emotional scars and acknowledge how they have shaped me to who I am today, for better or for worse.
Resilience: Lee exemplifies how extreme pain, helplessness, grief, and trauma can co-exist with intense joy, love, strength, and accomplishment in one body. It was incredibly uplifting to read how she chooses to be motivated by love and connection despite her past, present, and future adversity.
THE WRITING. Her writing is incredibly honest and straightforward in the most elegant way so that I couldn't put the book down despite its emotional weight. While some might say that the writing feels meandering or fragmented at times, I wasn't turned off by this. I think this kind of format where Lee jumps around various thoughts and memories of her life accurately reflects the undeniable non-linearity of narrative. She mentioned that she struggled with cohesion as a writer, but I thought her writing was beautifully concise and powerful. She captures extremely complex emotions and sentiments in her words so well. You can truly feel her intention with each and every word. She tells it how it is with acute perception, intimacy, and grace.
Thank you Laura Lee for your vulnerability and strength in sharing this book with the world.
April 22, 2021
I’ve never read a book that more accurately captured my mental health condition. Though I do not have the exact same life experiences as the author, the way she writes about trauma, depression, and the difficulties of day to day living with one’s disease, especially when you were once high functioning and appear to be ok to the rest of the world, spoke to me deeply. She examines what got her to where she is today and the struggles and small slices of hope that occur when the disease has become your most common bedfellow. Love to the author and for reminding me that I am not too sensitive for this world. I am sensitive and I am here in the world, the same as anyone else without this sensitivity.
April 19, 2023
I couldn’t put this down.
I’m so impressed by the author’s writing and the way these essays were strung and woven together.
Memoir is a way for the author to tell us about their life, their feelings, opinions, personal philosophies, and so on.
This book does that.
But, this memoir, more than many I’ve read, ended up turning the mirror around and making me reflect on my own life, feelings, opinions, and personal philosophies.
I’m so impressed by the author’s writing and the way these essays were strung and woven together.
Memoir is a way for the author to tell us about their life, their feelings, opinions, personal philosophies, and so on.
This book does that.
But, this memoir, more than many I’ve read, ended up turning the mirror around and making me reflect on my own life, feelings, opinions, and personal philosophies.
March 27, 2021
I don't really know what to say for this review. Lee does an excellent job of making her unique experience so universal. It was an enjoyable read.
May 13, 2024
I wished to like this book so badly as I connect with so many of Laura Lee's experiences and struggles, but I just couldn't. The book feels so detached as it Lee was writing for the sake of writing or for self-preservation. She touches upon all the scars that she receives moving through life: abuse, family troubles, racism, sexuality, then she removes herself from them in the same breath. It's not until the end of the book that the reader starts to feel and see Lee; her worries, fears, love, and her strong will.
June 11, 2021
I had high hopes for this book, and I always feel bad when giving a harsh review to a memoir, because I feel like "judging" someone's life.
Here, the "low score" comes solely from how the book is written; to me, it was so incoherent (which is really amusing, because Lee writes in the book how good she is at constructing coherent narratives and editing other writers' work). Several pieces of information about the author's family were repeated. I wish there was a stronger narrative. Maybe, however, in the way it is written, it provides a unique "peek" into how Lee's mind functions. She has suffered a lot, she is struggling with a mental illness, her mind, her thoughts are not typical, and maybe that is being expressed through the writing style too.
Still, even with that in mind, I ended up not excited about this book.
Here, the "low score" comes solely from how the book is written; to me, it was so incoherent (which is really amusing, because Lee writes in the book how good she is at constructing coherent narratives and editing other writers' work). Several pieces of information about the author's family were repeated. I wish there was a stronger narrative. Maybe, however, in the way it is written, it provides a unique "peek" into how Lee's mind functions. She has suffered a lot, she is struggling with a mental illness, her mind, her thoughts are not typical, and maybe that is being expressed through the writing style too.
Still, even with that in mind, I ended up not excited about this book.
December 16, 2020
What a stunning, heartbreaking work! Laura Lee's writing holds the tension between opposite experiences: unspeakable pain and uncontainable joy, intimacy and disconnection. Lee's storytelling includes just the right amount of detail and metaphor. The reader isn't abandoned to hopelessness in the face of her history of trauma, nor are they left free to imagine she's found The Answer to suffering. Lee's courage and strength shine through in every essay, and I can't wait to read more from her.
January 28, 2021
"How does one capture a fair picture of a person,
if the pieces don't add up to what we expect?"
This book is complicated. It's reflective. Deeply personal. Ambiguous. Frustratingly vague. Misses the mark on one topic but then swoops in and hits it critically in another. You could say it mirrors a lot of the terrain in life. We are left with mess, with questions, with wanting more. We are also guided through Lee navigating queerness, abuse, mental health, identity, life as a immigrant's child, life as the child of a deteriorating parent. It's written in the forceful whisper of someone who has fought to find their footing.
"She and I experienced, in tandem, two different versions of the same reality"
Some of the most touching moments were shared as Lee delved into her personal relationship with her girlfriend. She writes tenderly, she writes hopefully, lovingly, curiously, gratefully, of her girlfriend. The story of her making her girlfriend's favorite dish was so endearingly and made me smile thoughtfully, reminding me of the first time I made biryani for my ex. It's a special moment, romantic or not, to reach out on a limb to try and make the comfort dish for another person.
"I think of home as something I build with those whim I love, and as something I find reflected within them"
That being said, I never feel fully comfortable "critiquing" someone's memoir, it's their life and only they truly know it. So, my critiques are only on how the writing felt seeping into me. I began to be put off by just how often she made sure the reader knew her girlfriend was Pakistani, as if her girlfriend did not exist outside of that. She made it a point to describe the nationality of everyone she knew, I'm not entirely sure why, it felt very oddly specific when placed against the general ambiguousness of the essays.
The essays feel deeply personal and vastly vague at the same time.
The first few essays hold the potential for power that just isn't found throughout the rest of the narrative (for me). I grew somewhat frustrated with the ambiguous nature of all the "big" things. Passing references to the whole reason she writes. Passive everything. I became lost among the intricate conversation of climbing. Honestly, I don't know how Lee managed to give so much feel of rawness while maintaining a cloak of mystery. Keeping a wall between herself and the reader while still sharing intimate details.
My personal feelings aside, I recommend this book still. It's a voice that needs to be heard. Multiple stigmas that need to be shattered and spoken about. It addresses what it's like to watch your parents cognitive decline far before their time. It's a voice I haven't seen much in literature and that needs to be amplified.
BUT I JUST WANT TO SAY: I respect the heck out of Roxane Gay but good grief she isn't a deity okay? Laura Lee, you stand on your own two feet. I honestly feel like repeated mentions of Gay's impact in the making of the book did it a disservice. It casts a shadow over it instead of illuminating it. It must've been incredible to have an amazing person like Roxane be your mentor but your story is your own and your words are your own. The books needs its own space to flourish.
Thank you to Atria Books and NetGalley for providing me an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for my opinion
if the pieces don't add up to what we expect?"
This book is complicated. It's reflective. Deeply personal. Ambiguous. Frustratingly vague. Misses the mark on one topic but then swoops in and hits it critically in another. You could say it mirrors a lot of the terrain in life. We are left with mess, with questions, with wanting more. We are also guided through Lee navigating queerness, abuse, mental health, identity, life as a immigrant's child, life as the child of a deteriorating parent. It's written in the forceful whisper of someone who has fought to find their footing.
"She and I experienced, in tandem, two different versions of the same reality"
Some of the most touching moments were shared as Lee delved into her personal relationship with her girlfriend. She writes tenderly, she writes hopefully, lovingly, curiously, gratefully, of her girlfriend. The story of her making her girlfriend's favorite dish was so endearingly and made me smile thoughtfully, reminding me of the first time I made biryani for my ex. It's a special moment, romantic or not, to reach out on a limb to try and make the comfort dish for another person.
"I think of home as something I build with those whim I love, and as something I find reflected within them"
That being said, I never feel fully comfortable "critiquing" someone's memoir, it's their life and only they truly know it. So, my critiques are only on how the writing felt seeping into me. I began to be put off by just how often she made sure the reader knew her girlfriend was Pakistani, as if her girlfriend did not exist outside of that. She made it a point to describe the nationality of everyone she knew, I'm not entirely sure why, it felt very oddly specific when placed against the general ambiguousness of the essays.
The essays feel deeply personal and vastly vague at the same time.
The first few essays hold the potential for power that just isn't found throughout the rest of the narrative (for me). I grew somewhat frustrated with the ambiguous nature of all the "big" things. Passing references to the whole reason she writes. Passive everything. I became lost among the intricate conversation of climbing. Honestly, I don't know how Lee managed to give so much feel of rawness while maintaining a cloak of mystery. Keeping a wall between herself and the reader while still sharing intimate details.
My personal feelings aside, I recommend this book still. It's a voice that needs to be heard. Multiple stigmas that need to be shattered and spoken about. It addresses what it's like to watch your parents cognitive decline far before their time. It's a voice I haven't seen much in literature and that needs to be amplified.
BUT I JUST WANT TO SAY: I respect the heck out of Roxane Gay but good grief she isn't a deity okay? Laura Lee, you stand on your own two feet. I honestly feel like repeated mentions of Gay's impact in the making of the book did it a disservice. It casts a shadow over it instead of illuminating it. It must've been incredible to have an amazing person like Roxane be your mentor but your story is your own and your words are your own. The books needs its own space to flourish.
Thank you to Atria Books and NetGalley for providing me an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for my opinion
March 1, 2021
“But life is never that linear. A climb that straightforward would be uninteresting - a climb’s unexpected detours and features are what make it worthwhile.”
Lee’s memoir is a collection of essays, each with a loose focus, that dip and weave into deeper parts of her past and self-understanding. She explores her identity as an American with first-generation parents from Korea, coming into her queerness & intimacy in relationships, the abuse she experienced from her father & sister, the trauma of being raised by a mother with undiagnosed Alzheimer’s & the accompanying caregiving she took on, her & her family’s experience with mental health conditions & other invisible chronic illnesses, her love of rock climbing, the importance of writing & intellectual life for her, and more.
Her writing is sparse, nonlinear, evocative, exploratory. It sometimes left me wanting more - more explanation, more resolution. But Lee also addresses this, noting that her narrative isn’t tidy, that her memories aren’t complete, that her emotions are contradictory - and this is what makes Lee’s memoir feel like one of the most authentic I’ve ever read. Though it at times feels choppy, there’s an overarching cohesion in her topics, themes, and metaphors that brings the book together. She lets us near her experiences, draws us into her overwhelm and scatter and fear, and ignites us with her hope when it shines through. It’s a beautiful and honest reflection of a life in all its complexity.
Some of my favorite essays:
- The title story, in which she describes her physical & emotional scars & the memories they elicit.
- “Lineages of Food”, where she sits with her complex food inheritance, why she cooks & eats what she does, the people & relationships & cultures & geographies that have influenced her.
- “Want”, in which she describes her first queer relationship, where both women who previously thought of themselves as straight fall in love on a summer climbing trip.
- “Futurity”, where she wrestled with a diagnosis of schizophrenia and what it means for herself & her partner, their future together.
I’m so glad I had the opportunity to read this memoir, and I hope you will to! I’m surprised that I haven’t seen more reviews (other than Roxane Gay’s glowing blurb). Thank you to Atria Books for the ARC.
Content warnings: suicide attempt, physical abuse, loss of a family member, racism, homophobia
Lee’s memoir is a collection of essays, each with a loose focus, that dip and weave into deeper parts of her past and self-understanding. She explores her identity as an American with first-generation parents from Korea, coming into her queerness & intimacy in relationships, the abuse she experienced from her father & sister, the trauma of being raised by a mother with undiagnosed Alzheimer’s & the accompanying caregiving she took on, her & her family’s experience with mental health conditions & other invisible chronic illnesses, her love of rock climbing, the importance of writing & intellectual life for her, and more.
Her writing is sparse, nonlinear, evocative, exploratory. It sometimes left me wanting more - more explanation, more resolution. But Lee also addresses this, noting that her narrative isn’t tidy, that her memories aren’t complete, that her emotions are contradictory - and this is what makes Lee’s memoir feel like one of the most authentic I’ve ever read. Though it at times feels choppy, there’s an overarching cohesion in her topics, themes, and metaphors that brings the book together. She lets us near her experiences, draws us into her overwhelm and scatter and fear, and ignites us with her hope when it shines through. It’s a beautiful and honest reflection of a life in all its complexity.
Some of my favorite essays:
- The title story, in which she describes her physical & emotional scars & the memories they elicit.
- “Lineages of Food”, where she sits with her complex food inheritance, why she cooks & eats what she does, the people & relationships & cultures & geographies that have influenced her.
- “Want”, in which she describes her first queer relationship, where both women who previously thought of themselves as straight fall in love on a summer climbing trip.
- “Futurity”, where she wrestled with a diagnosis of schizophrenia and what it means for herself & her partner, their future together.
I’m so glad I had the opportunity to read this memoir, and I hope you will to! I’m surprised that I haven’t seen more reviews (other than Roxane Gay’s glowing blurb). Thank you to Atria Books for the ARC.
Content warnings: suicide attempt, physical abuse, loss of a family member, racism, homophobia
May 23, 2021
I didn’t know what I was getting into when I picked up this memoir. The best I can describe is that it fully embraces intersectionality, as Laura Lee leaves no parts of her identity untouched. I have never (as far as I’m aware) read a book by a high-functioning person who’s been diagnosed with schizophrenia. She describes the illness is ways I was unfamiliar with before now and I’m extremely grateful for that. I was also unfamiliar with many of the symptoms such as alogia (didn’t know this was a thing). Also schizophrenia is more likely in individuals who’ve experienced trauma and stress at a young age. Lee touches upon the absolute failure that is the US healthcare system. There are many quotes I want to share, of which I’ll share some below.
“It’s hard to overcome the effect of one’s socialization at home, though, which is more primal and more fundamental than any lessons learned in the outside world.”
“By violent, I mean, perhaps, that when we vocally define others’ personhoods to them, when we essentialize, we are capable of causing great harm. Telling someone that s/he can’t possibly be straight, or gay, bisexual, or unlabeled, female or male or non-binary, or any variation, feels no different than my mother telling me, you’re too stupid.”
“When you’re not able to speak easily, you’re at the mercy of each person with whom you engage. Others tend to fill those silences with their own words, their own assumptions, tend to insert their own wills.”
Lastly, I inadvertently completed a Book Riot task, #23, read a book that demystifies mental illness.
“It’s hard to overcome the effect of one’s socialization at home, though, which is more primal and more fundamental than any lessons learned in the outside world.”
“By violent, I mean, perhaps, that when we vocally define others’ personhoods to them, when we essentialize, we are capable of causing great harm. Telling someone that s/he can’t possibly be straight, or gay, bisexual, or unlabeled, female or male or non-binary, or any variation, feels no different than my mother telling me, you’re too stupid.”
“When you’re not able to speak easily, you’re at the mercy of each person with whom you engage. Others tend to fill those silences with their own words, their own assumptions, tend to insert their own wills.”
Lastly, I inadvertently completed a Book Riot task, #23, read a book that demystifies mental illness.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 10, 2021
Honest, emotional and perfectly chaotic
As a non American queer woman with a passion for both writing and the outdoors and has also struggled with their mental health I have never seen myself as much in a story, fictional or otherwise.
This book is a must read for any queer person and a joy for anyone else. Lee’s relation ship with her queer identity is intriguing and her commentary on the queer community is relatable. She perfectly grasps the feeling of being anything other than a white American within the community.
The chaotic back and forth of the storytelling perfectly encompasses the feeling of sorting through past trauma. Writers who have never experienced traumatic events in childhood and adolescence often try to replicate this feeling but fall short compared to this honest and realistic depiction. However, it does at times feel a bit too hard to keep track of but that might be because I listened to the audiobook and might have missed a number of clarifying moments.
I do not exaggerate when I say this book changed my life. It has helped me understand as a whole person rather than just a sum of my identities and labels. It broke through the loneliness and isolation of the past few years and helped me realize that I was not alone in my experiences. To anyone going through tough times, looking to realize their individuality or in need of a good read, this is the book for you.
As a non American queer woman with a passion for both writing and the outdoors and has also struggled with their mental health I have never seen myself as much in a story, fictional or otherwise.
This book is a must read for any queer person and a joy for anyone else. Lee’s relation ship with her queer identity is intriguing and her commentary on the queer community is relatable. She perfectly grasps the feeling of being anything other than a white American within the community.
The chaotic back and forth of the storytelling perfectly encompasses the feeling of sorting through past trauma. Writers who have never experienced traumatic events in childhood and adolescence often try to replicate this feeling but fall short compared to this honest and realistic depiction. However, it does at times feel a bit too hard to keep track of but that might be because I listened to the audiobook and might have missed a number of clarifying moments.
I do not exaggerate when I say this book changed my life. It has helped me understand as a whole person rather than just a sum of my identities and labels. It broke through the loneliness and isolation of the past few years and helped me realize that I was not alone in my experiences. To anyone going through tough times, looking to realize their individuality or in need of a good read, this is the book for you.
February 12, 2021
*Thanks to NetGalley for this ARC in exchange for my honest review*
Upon learning that Laura Lee was a protege of Roxane Gay, I knew I absolutely had to read this. She did not let me down; this was a disturbing and beautiful (disturbingly beautiful? beautifully disturbing?) memoir that reached deep into my core. There is so much here, like Lee's upbringing with a mother with undiagnosed early onset Alzheimer's Disease and a father who was often violent. Add to that an emotionally volatile middle sister, and you have the kind of non-childhood that has lasting impacts. Lee also explores her Korean American and queer identity through the challenges and exertion of rock climbing, cooking from various cuisines, and the experience and diagnosis of a mental illness.
The writing itself is delicately crafted, and each word feels deliberate and measured. It meanders at times; the flow helps to create a feeling around the interrelated topics. I related to aspects of Lee's experience, and that made reading this memoir feel all the more personal. I was moved and hope that Ms. Lee was able to find some catharsis and/or healing in the process of producing this work.
Upon learning that Laura Lee was a protege of Roxane Gay, I knew I absolutely had to read this. She did not let me down; this was a disturbing and beautiful (disturbingly beautiful? beautifully disturbing?) memoir that reached deep into my core. There is so much here, like Lee's upbringing with a mother with undiagnosed early onset Alzheimer's Disease and a father who was often violent. Add to that an emotionally volatile middle sister, and you have the kind of non-childhood that has lasting impacts. Lee also explores her Korean American and queer identity through the challenges and exertion of rock climbing, cooking from various cuisines, and the experience and diagnosis of a mental illness.
The writing itself is delicately crafted, and each word feels deliberate and measured. It meanders at times; the flow helps to create a feeling around the interrelated topics. I related to aspects of Lee's experience, and that made reading this memoir feel all the more personal. I was moved and hope that Ms. Lee was able to find some catharsis and/or healing in the process of producing this work.
March 11, 2021
I was very excited to read what began as a hugely compelling book; about halfway through, I lost interest. At no point in a book about trauma should I be bored! It felt disrespectful even as I was experiencing boredom. There are some moments of brilliance and poetry and these are overshadowed by a great deal of repetition. We hear variations on the same details whether climbing or trauma again and again. Perhaps these essays were written at different times, in different publications, so they were not meant to be read consecutively? Some of the most interesting moments come right at the end of the book where the pivotal events from the first part are finally revealed. It seems as though Lee spends the entire book trying not to say too much which creates a bizarre tension. Why write a book in order to reveal very little and write circles around the same sets of issues, events, and family dynamics? Overall, this is a really disjointed set of essays that lack both a consistent narrative voice and a book length worthy telos.
September 3, 2025
This set of biographical essays covers the author's life, her relationships with family members, her won and family issues with mental health, and what the author learned from her relationship with her girlfriend, including a wonderful chapter on food memories, and cultural influences and expectations on what people eat and what they like.
Why does someone tell Laura how much he likes kimchi? Does he expect that her Korean heritage makes her an expert on it? That's not what her mother fed her in their American home, not once Laura was older. Her girlfriend's love of familar flavours from Pakistan becomes a happy place for Laura too.
Lots of relatable content for people who have complex relationships with their own memories and the places family hold. I found the book poetic in much of the writing and ejoyed sharing the memories. Other people may find it repetitive in parts and not cohesive enough. Worth reading anyway.
Why does someone tell Laura how much he likes kimchi? Does he expect that her Korean heritage makes her an expert on it? That's not what her mother fed her in their American home, not once Laura was older. Her girlfriend's love of familar flavours from Pakistan becomes a happy place for Laura too.
Lots of relatable content for people who have complex relationships with their own memories and the places family hold. I found the book poetic in much of the writing and ejoyed sharing the memories. Other people may find it repetitive in parts and not cohesive enough. Worth reading anyway.
October 15, 2021
I had almost no idea what this book was about when I borrowed it, just that Roxanne Gay recommended it. For most of the book, I thought, well this isn't that great, but I'll finish it. And then, bang! In the last essay she talks about a schizophrenia diagnosis, and how it's affected her life. Ho.Ly.Fuck. My mind was completely blown when I heard the litany of symptoms related. Inability to read well due to focus, inability to start things, sleeping 12 h/day, nightmares, just all this stuff I see in my daughter and none of the scholarly articles mention. Additionally, she talked about the paranoia making her think people were picking on her when they were just fucking being people! My daughter and I have had so many conversations related to this and neither one of us ever made the connection! Just wow.
September 6, 2022
I found this memoir to be rather repetitive as it was styled into essays. Many of the themes that came up were repeated multiple times, in both each essay and throughout the collection. but not in ways that felt new but rather simply repeated. Additionally, the author had a tendency to not root things in the concrete. Much of the beauty of the book comes from its existential or broader concepts. But as far as memoirs go, I don't feel like I know what happened in the author's life beyond large plot points. I was intrigued and pulled in, but left wanting. That being said, I think that Laura Lee has a great capture of language and an intense emotional depth found in many of her paragraphs. I also believe that certain parts felt stronger than others, particularly those essays later in the book.
March 15, 2021
A History of Scars is a deeply moving memoir about a woman’s personal account of the trauma she experienced as a child and the profound effects that it had on her growth into adulthood. One thing about Lee is that she is a fantastic writer. I felt everything she put into words, almost feeling it a little too deeply. Although she experienced so much trauma in her life, it was her strength to push through despite what her quality of life is and will be..and it is truly inspiring. What stuck out to me were these words: “I feel my limitations. I’m too sensitive for this world. And yet I’m here.” It’s through all of her trials that she has still found a place in the world where she feels love, and knows how to love.
June 8, 2021
At one point, the author talks about unfamiliar homemade ethnic food vs. processed American food. To paraphrase: even if you grow up eating processed food, the ethnic food can seem more like home, even if it's not your ethnicity.
Similarly, this memoir: it's unprocessed. The narrative structure is nonlinear and coarse. I've never been to the places that the author has. Yet, I read a lot of it nodding along. So much if it sounds right to me.
I'm left, at the end, worried about the author. Wanting the best. Praying for her as much as an agnostic can.
But I also celebrate her achievement with this memoir. We can only work with the ingredients we're given from our childhoods. The author has made something worthy with hers.
Similarly, this memoir: it's unprocessed. The narrative structure is nonlinear and coarse. I've never been to the places that the author has. Yet, I read a lot of it nodding along. So much if it sounds right to me.
I'm left, at the end, worried about the author. Wanting the best. Praying for her as much as an agnostic can.
But I also celebrate her achievement with this memoir. We can only work with the ingredients we're given from our childhoods. The author has made something worthy with hers.
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