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kyatic 's review for:
I bought this book way back before Nimko Ali revealed herself to be, quite bizarrely, a big fan of the Conservative Party, who I hate with my entire heart and soul, but I'm not one to read books solely by people I 100% agree with all the time. At no point when I was reading this did my existing opinions of Ali affect my determination to fully engage with it; she's a good writer and has a lot of value to say, and my disagreeing with her on a few issues won't and shouldn't negate that. That said:
The Good:
- Nimko Ali is a witty and engaging writer, and I did laugh out loud at a lot of her turns of phrase. She obviously has a way with people too, to be able to get these women to open up to her in the ways that they did. It's a very personal book, both in terms of what it clearly means to Ali and in terms of how sensitive many of the narratives are, and that gives it a very raw and emotional resonance. This book is 250 pages long and I read it in two sittings, only interrupted so that I could make a cup of tea. It's well-written and thoroughly readable, and, given the weight of the topics at hand, that's no small feat.
- It's refreshing to at last be able to read books which are marketed as feminist and don't consist entirely of the musings of rich white women. The majority of the voices featured in this book are those of women of colour, and there are many intersecting marginalisations, such as homelessness and Blackness. That said, it could have been more diverse in terms of contributions, as the majority of narratives definitely fit into the 'woman is married at a very young age and suffers accordingly' convention, but these stories obviously do need to be heard, so I wasn't disappointed in the lack of variety, per se. It's just not quite what the book's marketing leads one to expect.
- Although I don't personally agree with Ali's definition of what makes a woman, which I found to be very bioessentialist, I did very much appreciate the frank discussion of issues that have certainly affected me and many other women (and people who aren't women) I know. I fully agree that it's time to start talking about periods and menopause and abortions; I just don't think I entirely agree that it's necessary to conflate that with milestones specifically of womanhood, even if they commonly are. On the same positive note, it was actually great to see so many women be frank about their own bodily functions; there's quite a lot of literal shit-talk in here, and you know what? I'm here for it. We all shit.
The Bad:
- A very unimportant point really, but I was a little surprised that this was a release by a major publishing imprint, given the number of editing mistakes. There are quite a few instances of sentences where one word is missing. The book's structure is also very odd, consisting of 4 chapters, some of which are over 100 pages long and one of which is only about 20, which feels patchy and inconsistent. Additionally, after every woman's contribution, Ali writes her own thoughts about a topic related to the contribution, and the way in which this transition from contributor to commentary is done is also inconsistent; sometimes Ali's thoughts are placed under a new heading under the contribution, and sometimes the narrative just switches randomly into third person without warning, at which point it eventually becomes clear that Ali is now speaking, not the contributor. It feels very much like a first draft in a lot of ways. I don't know if the book was perhaps rushed out; it very much seemed like it may have been.
- I think that, ultimately, when one of the splash quotes on the book's inside cover is from proto-Tory and privileged feminist extraordinaire Zoe Sugg, it's probably not going to be a book which engages rigorously with feminist theory. I would have really liked to have seen more analysis in this book and discussions of why women (meaning, as this book uses the word, anyone assigned female at birth) are treated and received in the ways that they are, cross-culturally. In many ways, it just seemed at times like a litany of suffering, without any attempts to engage with the systemic causes of that suffering, and it means that I finished this book feeling a bit hollow. Again, I think this is possibly because the book was rushed, although I'm just theorising there.
The Ugly:
- This book is incredibly cissexist and heterocentric. There isn't a single contribution in here from a queer woman, either in terms of sexuality or gender. The book consistently conflates womanhood with 'fannies', and, as a cis woman myself, I have to be honest and say that I think that's a bit reductive. Not everyone with a 'fanny' is a woman, and not all women have a 'fanny'. I think it tries to universalise the experience of being 'female' too far, and in doing so it reduces it to a series of biological functions, like having periods, getting pregnant, and entering menopause.
- There was one moment in particular which struck me as hypocritical. I'm treading lightly here, as a white woman with absolutely no experience of the subject at hand, but much of the book is dedicated to (bravely and importantly) telling the horrific experienes of women who have undergone FGM, and then later one woman, who hasn't undergone FGM herself, speaks of how she prefers having sex with men who have been circumcised because she finds it more pleasurable. Now, I'm not someone who thinks that FGM and male circumcision are directly comparable; my general ethos is pretty much 'let's just not mutilate babies' genitals at all ever, but FGM is clearly a very different entity and should be discussed as such,' but it struck me as ill-advised at the very least, because there was absolutely no engagement with why this might be different, or the ways in which it isn't.
I do think that I would recommend this book to people, because it's incredibly readable and it has a lot to say about experiences from some of the most marginalised women globally; I would just be sure to specify that it's not the wide-reaching commentary on womanhood that it's marketed as being.
The Good:
- Nimko Ali is a witty and engaging writer, and I did laugh out loud at a lot of her turns of phrase. She obviously has a way with people too, to be able to get these women to open up to her in the ways that they did. It's a very personal book, both in terms of what it clearly means to Ali and in terms of how sensitive many of the narratives are, and that gives it a very raw and emotional resonance. This book is 250 pages long and I read it in two sittings, only interrupted so that I could make a cup of tea. It's well-written and thoroughly readable, and, given the weight of the topics at hand, that's no small feat.
- It's refreshing to at last be able to read books which are marketed as feminist and don't consist entirely of the musings of rich white women. The majority of the voices featured in this book are those of women of colour, and there are many intersecting marginalisations, such as homelessness and Blackness. That said, it could have been more diverse in terms of contributions, as the majority of narratives definitely fit into the 'woman is married at a very young age and suffers accordingly' convention, but these stories obviously do need to be heard, so I wasn't disappointed in the lack of variety, per se. It's just not quite what the book's marketing leads one to expect.
- Although I don't personally agree with Ali's definition of what makes a woman, which I found to be very bioessentialist, I did very much appreciate the frank discussion of issues that have certainly affected me and many other women (and people who aren't women) I know. I fully agree that it's time to start talking about periods and menopause and abortions; I just don't think I entirely agree that it's necessary to conflate that with milestones specifically of womanhood, even if they commonly are. On the same positive note, it was actually great to see so many women be frank about their own bodily functions; there's quite a lot of literal shit-talk in here, and you know what? I'm here for it. We all shit.
The Bad:
- A very unimportant point really, but I was a little surprised that this was a release by a major publishing imprint, given the number of editing mistakes. There are quite a few instances of sentences where one word is missing. The book's structure is also very odd, consisting of 4 chapters, some of which are over 100 pages long and one of which is only about 20, which feels patchy and inconsistent. Additionally, after every woman's contribution, Ali writes her own thoughts about a topic related to the contribution, and the way in which this transition from contributor to commentary is done is also inconsistent; sometimes Ali's thoughts are placed under a new heading under the contribution, and sometimes the narrative just switches randomly into third person without warning, at which point it eventually becomes clear that Ali is now speaking, not the contributor. It feels very much like a first draft in a lot of ways. I don't know if the book was perhaps rushed out; it very much seemed like it may have been.
- I think that, ultimately, when one of the splash quotes on the book's inside cover is from proto-Tory and privileged feminist extraordinaire Zoe Sugg, it's probably not going to be a book which engages rigorously with feminist theory. I would have really liked to have seen more analysis in this book and discussions of why women (meaning, as this book uses the word, anyone assigned female at birth) are treated and received in the ways that they are, cross-culturally. In many ways, it just seemed at times like a litany of suffering, without any attempts to engage with the systemic causes of that suffering, and it means that I finished this book feeling a bit hollow. Again, I think this is possibly because the book was rushed, although I'm just theorising there.
The Ugly:
- This book is incredibly cissexist and heterocentric. There isn't a single contribution in here from a queer woman, either in terms of sexuality or gender. The book consistently conflates womanhood with 'fannies', and, as a cis woman myself, I have to be honest and say that I think that's a bit reductive. Not everyone with a 'fanny' is a woman, and not all women have a 'fanny'. I think it tries to universalise the experience of being 'female' too far, and in doing so it reduces it to a series of biological functions, like having periods, getting pregnant, and entering menopause.
- There was one moment in particular which struck me as hypocritical. I'm treading lightly here, as a white woman with absolutely no experience of the subject at hand, but much of the book is dedicated to (bravely and importantly) telling the horrific experienes of women who have undergone FGM, and then later one woman, who hasn't undergone FGM herself, speaks of how she prefers having sex with men who have been circumcised because she finds it more pleasurable. Now, I'm not someone who thinks that FGM and male circumcision are directly comparable; my general ethos is pretty much 'let's just not mutilate babies' genitals at all ever, but FGM is clearly a very different entity and should be discussed as such,' but it struck me as ill-advised at the very least, because there was absolutely no engagement with why this might be different, or the ways in which it isn't.
I do think that I would recommend this book to people, because it's incredibly readable and it has a lot to say about experiences from some of the most marginalised women globally; I would just be sure to specify that it's not the wide-reaching commentary on womanhood that it's marketed as being.