![]() In one of the more bizarre book reviews I’ve ever read, a reviewer claimed she threw Roxane Gay’s Bad Feminist across the room because Gay summed up her own gang rape at the age of twelve like this: The idea we are somehow owed the stories of victims of sexual violence is pervasive, and to my mind, rather astonishing, considering our burning hostility toward such victims, our collective tendency toward creepy voyeurism. And maybe my answer is also a little bit bananas I wrote Roza’s story, how could she-a figment of my imagination!-choose to keep the gory details of something so terrible entirely to herself? And wouldn’t it be better for readers to get the whole story in all its humiliating, awful detail? Don’t we need it to understand her? Yeah, okay, maybe this is snotty answer to a perfectly reasonable question from a thoughtful person. ![]() ![]() Well, I told him, Roza didn’t exactly share the specifics with me. ![]()
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