At 15, Emily is a relatively typical teenage girl living in the Maritimes. She lives with her eccentric dad as he prepares to build a log cabin. She rides her beloved horse and spends all her free time taking in the fresh air. But things aren’t perfect, the winters are harsh and her dad’s place is cold and draughty. Enter their neighbour who sees a girl in need and offers to lend a hand. Three “OUR LITTLE SECRET," and Emily's fate is sealed.
Twenty five years later, Emily is adrift and depressed when she spots her neighbour again on a ferry. The events of that long-ago winter come rushing back, and she is forced to reckon with the past anew. She vows that she will bring him to justice, tell her secret, and come to terms with the wounds that defined so many years of her life. Inept lawyers, expensive therapy, and a broken justice system block Emily’s path to peace. Only when she rediscovers her youthful artistic talent by putting pen to paper does she see a way out.
Now in her fifties, Carrington has crafted a compulsively readable debut that shows a powerful command of the comics medium. Our Little Secret is a testament to survival and to the importance of telling your story your way.
Emily Carrington is a Canadian cartoonist who grew up on the Maritime Provinces, and now lives in British Columbia. A childhood love of comics returned (much to her own surprise) in her early fifties, and now she can't seem to stop drawing them! Her first book is Our Little Secret, and she now working on a second book. Emily has painted and sold watercolor paintings and was longlisted for a CBC poetry prize.
Emily Carrington recounts being raped at the age of 15 by an acquaintance of her father’s, who was 40 years old, in her memoir Our Little Secret. She goes into the circumstances leading up to the incident on Prince Edward Island, Canada, (she had horrible parents and went to live with her father when they divorced), and its lasting impact on her life, as well as her lengthy journey in trying to seek justice, after she spotted the abuser 27 years later in 2010, by taking her case to the courts.
It’s unquestionably a powerful and disturbing story but accessible because Carrington is such a skilful cartoonist who draws beautifully and tells her story well, with a great deal of (figurative - the comic is in black and white) colour and thought. Where it falls down for me is its length and where the story goes - literally half the book covers the protracted legal proceedings she tries to bring to her abuser, Richard, which is both tedious and oddly self-destructive.
Here’s where my criticism might be misunderstood: I’m not saying abuse victims should shut up and let their abusers get away with it. But considering what taking legal recourse does to Carrington’s state of mind - the years of stress and anxiety it gives her, not to mention the untold amounts she spends on legal fees - makes it seem like she’s the one who’s now adding to the years of pain she’s already endured holding on to these experiences.
Then there are the dubious outcomes of (an increasingly unlikely) conviction: a monetary settlement, but then he’s poor like her, so how much does she expect to get and would that be worth all of this; warning others about him (which she’s done more effectively by creating this book about him); being a deterrent to other potential molesters (which seems naive - I think unfortunately scumbags like Richard are gonna scum, no matter what. Like the Catholic Church, Epstein and his clientele, etc.).
I feel like in her case, she’d be better off letting it all go because she’d not have to go through any more years of stress or financial hardship, and give herself a better chance at recovery/happiness. Isn’t the ultimate revenge having a life well lived? By letting her experiences consume her present life, she’s ensuring she’ll always exist within this painful victim bubble and never leave it behind.
In fact, she’s done the best possible thing, which is create this comic which accomplishes at least one of her goals of warning others about this man, and informs people how to spot abusers and what to do about them.
The first half of the book is very compelling though. As much as she blames Richard for her years of misery, I feel like she’s letting her insane father off too lightly - it’s because he was such a shitty, negligent father that this happened to her. And her mother is such a horrorshow. It’s no wonder Carrington has had years of therapy to try to undo the trauma of her childhood.
It’s also very insightful into the mind of abuse victims - how the abuse makes them feel, and their tragically warped reasoning that leads to the abuse happening over and over. The book is wonderfully drawn, showcasing Canada’s natural charm and conversely depicting Richard as the grotesque he is - having his speech bubbles drool out of his mouth like haunted spittle is an effective choice in making him creepier to the reader.
Even though I wasn’t that taken with the second half, it’s still brave of Carrington to pursue Richard legally as tenaciously as she has and I hope one day she finds the peace she deserves. I found it to be an uneven narrative, parts of which were riveting and others that were quite dull, but Our Little Secret is overall a decent comic about a difficult subject by a clearly talented cartoonist.
When she was 14- and 15-years-old, Emily Carrington was groomed, sexually abused, and raped by her 40-year-old neighbor, Richard. She recounts that horrible experience in the 1980s and her decade-long quest for justice that began 27 years later. While waiting on the legal system, she took justice into her own hands, drawing her pain, her loss, and her journey to recovery. Engrossing, enraging, and moving.
Reminded me of Chanel Miller's Know My Name and the power that comes from a survivor telling her story and making her voice heard.
Such a wonderfully illustrated graphic novel about Emily’s life growing up, and how her abuser had affected her her entire life. A dark yet necessary topic.
This was a challenging book to read, mainly due to the subject matter, but also due to the non-traditional narrative arc, which the author directly addresses during the book (which I appreciated). The author's story is horrifying - both because of the abuse she endured, but also due to the systemic injustices she faces, from the legal system (especially age of consent, which is raised in the afterword in yet another strange angle) to the poverty and abuse she experienced prior to interactions with Richard. While it's difficult to read, it's worth it.
I also want to mention the extremely effective artwork. The drawings of Richard at baseline, at his worst, and as a bear are extraordinarily effective and disturbing, as are the depictions of flies (and that mouse!!) at the beginning and the end of the story. I also appreciated different depictions of nature, mainly as a carefree and freeing environment, but also as a desolate space. And the chilling cover! This was definitely a book I kept facedown.
I'm not sure I have the words for this memoir... It's raw, it's powerful, it's cathartic and at times graphic (the author draws what is being done to her). She wrote the book as a way to process her grief and trauma, but also shared insight into how sexual grooming happens and highlighted loopholes in the legal system. The artwork equally does not hold back.
This is a bleak and depressing read, but is also healing and ends on a hopeful tone. The last scene of the author meeting her younger self made me want to cry. A lot of what she went through in the aftermath mirrors my own experiences and to see it acknowledged in a book feels somewhat validating. I feel understood.
Emily Carrington said one reason she held on to her pursuit of legal recourse despite having all the odds stacked against her was to help people. Even it's just one person. And although she did not get the justice that she was seeking, help me she did.
When Emily Carrington was just a young girl growing up in rural PEI she was groomed and abused by her 40 year old neighbour. The book is roughly split into two parts, the first is Emily's recollections of her childhood. The second half takes place years later. As an adult she sees the man who abused her and is motivated to try and have justice.
The art style and panelling was reminiscent of Chester Brown. For her first comic book, I was incredibly impressed by the artwork, pacing, and her ability to keep the story visually intriguing.
The first part of the story is tragic and the second part is just simply frustrating as the legal system fails to bring this person to justice. But through it all Carrington's storytelling and thoughtful illustrations bring beauty and life to a story that could have felt overwhelmingly tragic.
I enjoyed this book a lot and I hope the writing and publishing of the book allows Carrington to find some closure.
Also, it would be nice if this could start some talks about reforming the way the Canadian justice system brings child abusers to justice. It's absolutely insane that we rely on children to speak up in a timely manner. It shouldn't be so difficult to get a child abuser on the stands to at least have their day in court regardless of the outcome.
There are too many good things to say about how this hard story was told. The hand drawn artwork was phenomenal. The author wrote themselves as a character you were rooting for right to the bitter end. I cried, and then cried some more, although I finished the book with an odd sense of hopefulness that art really can transport us.
Η Έμιλυ Κάρρινγκτον απελπίζεται από τη Δικαιοσύνη κι έτσι αποφασίζει να βρει άλλον τρόπο για να αφήσει κάτω το βάρος του μυστικού που κουβαλάει: το ζωγραφίζει και έτσι λέει το μυστικό σε ολόκληρο τον κόσμο. Η Δικαιοσύνη έχει αποτύχει, αλλά το μυστικό δεν είναι πλέον μυστικό. Η Έμιλυ Κάρρινγκτον κάνει ένα τολμηρό βήμα μπροστά και συστήνεται μέσα από το έργο της, λέει δυνατά το μυστικό και επιμορφώνει γονείς, δείχνει τον δρόμο σε παιδιά, αγκαλιάζει τα θύματα.
Η Έμιλυ Κάρρινγκτον είναι μια τυπική έφηβη, η οποία έρχεται από μια οικογένεια με αρκετά προβλήματα, αλλά όπως λέει, πριν βιαστεί από τον Ρίτσαρντ όλες αυτές τις φορές, διέσχιζε το μονοπάτι της ζωής της - εξαιτίας του δεν θα μάθει πού θα την οδηγούσε αυτό το μονοπάτι. Ο μπαμπάς της, εκκεντρικός και ψυχικά άρρωστος, η μαμά της σε άλλη πολιτεία, απέτυχαν να την προστατέψουν.
Ο Ρίτσαρντ αφιέρωσε χρόνο κάνοντας grooming και φυλακίζοντας τον ψυχισμό της Έμιλυ η οποία ήταν σίγουρη πως δεν μπορούσε να μιλήσει πουθενά. Πολλά χρόνια αργότερα τον βλέπει σε ένα φέρι κι έτσι ο θυμός της την σπρώχνει να αναζητήσει δικαιοσύνη. Το παράδειγμά της είναι ένα από τα πολλά που απαντάει στο γιατί τα θύματα δεν αναζητούν δικαίωση.
Φέτος διάβασα και τον Θλιβερό τίγρη της Νεζ Σινό που είναι πολύ κοντά στη δουλειά της Έμιλυ Κάρρινγκτον μιας και τα δυο είναι ψύχραιμες τοποθετήσεις τον θυμάτων βιασμού σε νεαρή ηλικία και ρίχνουν φως στα γεγονότα. Ρίχνουν φως στα πάττερνς των κακοποιητών, το πώς φέρθηκε το κοινωνικό σύνολο και η οικογένεια, πώς φέρθηκαν και ένιωσαν οι ίδιες. Η Σινό τοποθετεί τον εαυτό της απέναντί μας και μας λέει τα πάντα. Η Κάρρινγκτον κάνει ακριβώς το ίδιο: εντός της αφήγησης του παρελθόντος, προσθέτει καρέ με τον εαυτό της στο σήμερα, σε ένα τραπέζι, να μας μιλάει. Ρωτάει τον εαυτό της: γιατί με ζωγραφίζω μπροστά από ένα τραπέζι; μάλλον για να ακουμπάω τους αγκώνες μου, απαντάει.
Αυτά, ας διαβαστούν απ' όλους μας. Ας διαβαστούν γιατί είναι πασιφανές πως και οι δύο μάτωσαν τόσο όχι απλά για να ακουμπήσουν την ψυχή τους εντός της αφήγησης και να ανακουφιστούν, αλλά για να μάθουμε εμείς πώς ακριβώς συμβαίνει αυτό, αυτό για το οποίο, πολύ κακώς, δεν μιλάμε. - Κάθε φορά που αγνοούμε την ιστορία ενός θύματος, ένας βιαστής δρα ανενόχλητος.
Richard's grooming process was describe really good almost made me think of my situation I loved the art
I'm glad even though Emily was being groomed she had Richard's daughter to be her friend "I would enjoy you until I died"🤢 It really shows the fear kids who are sexually assaulted have "They'll hate me" "they won't believe me" Broke my heart when Emily thought the rape was over because Richard was moving but sadly it wasn't July 15th 2010 27 years after Richard first raped her (she was 15) she sat him on board of a ferry "It was best if I was drunk because then I didn't really feel what they were doing" July 16th 2010 is when she made the call to a lawyer The age for consent in 1982 (when it first happened) was 14 so that means what Richard did wasnt know as a criminal offense and it didn't change till 2008
This book made me sick to read but kinda glad the author wrote this book I hope she's doing well I just wanna give her a hug
"All the things Richard did to help me back then," our narrator reflects, about a quarter of the way into this book. "If I had a known where it was all heading, I would have turned them all down."
I thought this was a narratively and visually striking effort at expressing a trauma via the medium of graphic pathography. It feels like work that took a lot of time to make, but I haven't looked that up so idk. It feels careful, anyway, the storytelling and the art, which feels personal without being intrusive. The black and white, the tiny repetitive panels, the talkiness, and the handmade-feeling quality of the line all contribute to creating a really moving and accomplished piece of work.
A brave and courageous tale to tell. Emily makes clear that abused children have nowhere to turn and no one to turn to. Their abusers ensure that they feel isolated and alone. The inner turmoil never leaves and the abused suffer for years, perhaps their entire lives.
But Emily is no victim. She wrote this book to fight back and to help other children. That is courage.
The graphics are good, if repetitive at times. An important story to read
This was an incredibly intense read. A unflinching account of childhood sexual abuse and trauma it creates throughout life. The art manages to capture the emotions and psychological torment of the creator in a raw, visceral way. This use of art to tell truths and find catharsis where the justice system fails is a bittersweet, yet powerful act.
A raw, painful graphic memoir from a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. Emily Carrington does not have a cartooning background at all—she literally drew this book as therapy when the legal system failed her—but she is actually a quite good and imaginative artist. This book isn't perfect—the narrative gets a bit repetitive in spots—but that just makes it even more achingly sincere and powerful. Recommended explicitly and wholeheartedly to survivors of sexual abuse.
240611: excellent. not much more to say. easy to read one way, hard to read another way. 'trigger warnings' always suggest to me there is subject worth examining, reasoning, reflecting, not pushing it away or refusing to read it. this is not exactly the experience of the women known who have been abused, everyone is different, or my experience as boy...
A powerful and deeply personal graphic memoir. Emily Carrington’s black-and-white artwork is clean yet expressive, effectively capturing the emotional weight of each scene. The choice of monochrome enhances the somber tone of the story.
This is a heartbreaking and intense account of Carrington’s childhood sexual abuse by a trusted neighbor and family friend. The narrative is gripping and raw, evoking a full range of emotions—sadness, anger, frustration. Carrington’s storytelling is incredibly well-executed, with subtle but haunting visual choices: the abuser’s face often obscured, his words visually disturbing, every panel designed with thoughtful intent.
The memoir doesn’t shy away from the darkness of trauma, and it may be triggering for some. However, for those who can engage with such material, it offers a meaningful and courageous look into survival and reclaiming power. By the end, I felt not only outraged at the system and those who failed her but also moved by her resilience. I felt like I was standing with her, carrying the weight of that secret too.
At first glance, the childhood and early adolescence recounted in Emily Carrington’s stunning debut memoir might appear idyllic—at least in the warmer months: cycling through the Prince Edward Island countryside, caring for her pet horse and sheep, indulging her love of drawing, doing well in school.
Shift the perspective slightly and move ahead in time, though, and the young Carrington’s situation reads like a case study in vulnerability. When her parents break up, she chooses impulsively to stay with her father, a downwardly mobile former high school principal whose “eccentric” behaviour would now, forty-some years later, almost certainly be recognized as an indicator of bipolarity. This is a man who accuses his daughter of being spoiled because she has objected to living in an unheated shack in the middle of a Maritime winter. The domestic situation takes a bad turn quickly.
Into this scene steps a man named Richard, 40, a local carpenter who is not so much a “family friend” as someone who, in this isolated community, just happens to be around. His presence bodes ill from the start: recognizing Emily’s rudderless state, he embarks on a methodical campaign of sexual grooming against which the girl, not surprisingly, proves ultimately defenceless, and her world shatters.
Our Little Secret is a remarkably assured work; it’s easy to forget that it’s a debut. Carrington’s drawing style, with the lines doing all the work, is reminiscent of Joe Sacco’s, and she has a sure hand at integrating image and text, maintaining a compelling narrative drive throughout. She proves herself especially adept at capturing the elusive essence of certain inflection points in life—boundaries you don’t realize have been crossed until it’s too late to turn back, ruefully recognized only with hindsight.
Along the way, we’re reminded of societal norms scarcely credible from a present-day perspective, like the jaw-dropping fact that, at the time of which Carrington writes, the legal age of consent in Canada varied according to province: what was a crime in, say, Quebec, wasn’t a crime in Prince Edward Island. Early-1980s popular culture appears aligned against her, too. A world that countenances grim cultural objects like Motörhead’s “Jailbait” had little trouble looking the other way when a middle-aged man took advantage of a fifteen-year-old girl.
As the book proceeds past its halfway point, it becomes clear that what has been a memoir of trauma is also a meditation on the nature of justice—the need for it, the pursuit of it, and the limits of its reach. For Carrington, it should not have been anywhere near so hard to achieve some form of closure, but the system fails her again and again, with endless legal delays, incompetent representation, ineffectual (and expensive) counselling, and general patriarchal arrogance.
In the end, it was only by rechannelling her childhood artistic vocation that Carrington was able to achieve self-empowerment. The reader is never in the slightest doubt as to the courage it must have required to embark on Our Little Secret, and to carry it through. At one point, as Richard’s predation nears its awful peak, Carrington writes “I am not going to draw what Richard did to me next… It was degrading,” and you shudder, because what she has drawn elsewhere is gut-wrenching as it is.
The book is prefaced by a warning, cautioning that “scenes including childhood sexual abuse […] may be triggering for some readers.” The words are salutary, but nevertheless it is to be hoped that Carrington’s book will find as wide an audience as possible. As she writes, “Sometimes I wonder to myself: what would have helped me back then? What might have made things easier?” One answer, surely, is a book like this one. Our Little Secret is not an easy read, but it is an essential one.
Beautiful use of metaphorical imagery, I got chills when the flies were revealed to be Richard. The personification of lady justice was powerful and so was the ending. I cried with this book. The words Emily used to comfort herself are so strong and so important and as someone with trauma myself it was an immense release. It felt like someone took my thoughts and memories and pasted them into a book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Really good work of non-fiction on child abuse/rape, told from the point of view of the victim.
I'm sure this was utterly cathartic for the author, it shows. It was also a pretty hard read, which is why I didn't give it full marks. It didn't sit well with my emotional state at the moment, so I can't say I enjoyed it... but still, a much needed work.
Our Little Secret does an incredible job of shedding light on the insidious nature of childhood sexual abuse, and the difficult and nuanced path to justice and healing that follows.
Tellement frustrant de voir à quel point le système de justice n’est pas fait pour rendre justice aux personnes victimes d’agressions sexuelles. Très intéressant de voir comment elle fait pour s’en sortir!
I loved this graphic novel, even though it’s hard to read. It’s trauma filled. Emotionally charged. You feel for Emily and everything she went through, and how it affected her later in life, and ultimately changed the entire trajectory of her life.
It’s an eye opening read to see how cruel and life-altering her experience has been.
Wow. Devastating, upsetting, heartbreaking, infuriating, and frustrating. Such a harrowing and moving story that is a must read. I also hope this can influence those to change statute of limitation laws in Canada.
Honestly don’t know how to give a star rating to something like this. It’s one part terribly sad, one part infuriating in regards to the piss poor legal system. I hope publishing this has helped the author heal.
3.5. This is a brave book that has been many years in the making for Carrington. The first half of this memoir is compelling and painful. It explains grooming very well; the life her parents created for her makes me very sad. The second half focuses on more tedious proceedings that are not as engaging: about lawyers, how evasive justice is, and how legal proceedings suck $$$ out of you. I think if it was cut down or if it was less repetitive, it still would’ve worked. This is a wordy graphic memoir from beginning to end.