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A review by bhavyab61
When I Hit You: Or, A Portrait of the Writer as a Young Wife by Meena Kandasamy
5.0
Absolutely brilliant. The perfect female gaze narrative.
I expected this to be a short and easy read but it wasn't. In a lot of ways, I'm glad it wasn't. Kandasamy is a master storyteller, holding the torch of millions of people who face domestic violence. She masterfully navigates the themes of love, identity and being - handling every topic with nuance. The book is a fitting answer for anyone who has ever asked "why couldn't they just leave?" to a survivor of violence and rape.
Kandasamy makes you question everything - the institution of politics, of marriage, of society and of love itself. The very ideas and impositions that force us into allowing and accepting abuse. While doing so, she also holds out a care for people that almost doesn't make sense; a kind understanding that stands the test of abuse and abandonment.
Stunning and moving. Will leave you in tears at multiple points. My only advice is don't read it on the bus ride back home because it's literature that's meant to be read and experienced, wholly; with tears that are meant to be shed and seen.
I expected this to be a short and easy read but it wasn't. In a lot of ways, I'm glad it wasn't. Kandasamy is a master storyteller, holding the torch of millions of people who face domestic violence. She masterfully navigates the themes of love, identity and being - handling every topic with nuance. The book is a fitting answer for anyone who has ever asked "why couldn't they just leave?" to a survivor of violence and rape.
Kandasamy makes you question everything - the institution of politics, of marriage, of society and of love itself. The very ideas and impositions that force us into allowing and accepting abuse. While doing so, she also holds out a care for people that almost doesn't make sense; a kind understanding that stands the test of abuse and abandonment.
Stunning and moving. Will leave you in tears at multiple points. My only advice is don't read it on the bus ride back home because it's literature that's meant to be read and experienced, wholly; with tears that are meant to be shed and seen.