A review by rachd24
Asking For It by Louise O'Neill

4.0

4.5/5* review.

I have a detailed and impassioned review on my blog:
http://confessionsofabookgeek.com/2015/09/25/review-asking-for-it/

As well as a response post called #NotAskingForIt: http://confessionsofabookgeek.com/2015/10/05/notaskingforit/

It took me three days after finishing this book to collect my thoughts, and longer to calm the anger and astonishment I felt by the end of it. Not towards the author, or the book, but towards the characters, who sadly are very much based on real life people.

Asking For It is so much more than a YA novel. It is a heart-breaking and cutting piece of social commentary, wrapped up as literature, and presented in an easy-to-read, but not-so-easy-to-digest book. It has been a long, long time since I’ve felt incensed by the content of a book, to the point where my stomach is in knots and my fingers are flying over the keyboard to put all of my thoughts into a review.

Asking For It is a complex book that touches on so many important and controversial issues, from rape and sexual assault, to mental health and family dynamics. O’Neill takes on taboo subjects, such as victim-blaming and consent, and handles them so well, delivering hard-hitting literary punches with ease, while engaging the reader right until the end of the story. The topics covered in this novel evoke so many varied opinions and stances in society, that the storyline could easily have ended up being confused and diluted by an author trying to cover all bases. O’Neill handles them expertly, and ensures that the reader is not left questioning her stance, or the focus of this book.

Asking For It is divided into two main sections, one pre-incident, and one post-incident, around one year after the event. Pre-incident, there is a Mean Girls vibe to the story, with our protagonist and her group of “friends” coming across as fairly unlike-able. I say “friends” because the friendships in this story are tenuous at best. Post-incident, the story becomes much darker as the reader is shown the long-term aftermath of sexual assault on the victim, her family, and the local town. The far-reaching impact of social media is a key focus of the story, which is particularly relevant today, as well as some of the hurdles and difficulties a victim faces when bringing a criminal case against alleged rapists, even when the evidence is overwhelming.

If I am being brutally honest with myself, this book made me uncomfortable, and not just for the obvious reasons you may expect. It made me uncomfortable because the victim’s parents are less than useless at supporting their daughter, and at times their reactions made me feel physically sick. It also made me uncomfortable because even though I proclaim to be a feminist, and even though I know what my views are on rape, and consent, and victim-blaming, I could still hear my inner monologue saying things like, “she was being promiscuous”, “she was wearing very revealing clothes”, “she was drunk and on drugs”, “she should have known better than to put herself in that situation” – the very things I consistently argue (even with peers and family members!) are not by any means an excuse for sexual assault. Because these thoughts were creeping into my head, this book highlighted to me just how conditioned we are as a society to think this way, that women should be intrinsically taught how to prevent themselves from being raped, as opposed to men being taught (if they should even HAVE to be taught) that rape is wrong and never acceptable.

By the end of this book I was emotionally raw. I was drained. I was disappointed and heartbroken. I wanted to crawl into the book and DO something. I really wanted to scream at Emma’s parents. But I was also oddly hopeful. Hopeful that this book will be picked up and read by many, that others will share in my heartache and help prevent this kind of thing from happening, that this story will inspire us to change.