Emily May's Reviews > My Dark Vanessa
My Dark Vanessa
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3 1/2 stars. I really really want to give this book a higher rating, but I cannot justify it when it is almost twice as long as it needed to be.
My Dark Vanessa has many powerful moments. It's a discomfiting, horrible story about an adult woman reevaluating the relationship she had with her English teacher when she was a teenager. It is reminiscent of The Tale and, of course, Lolita, which features heavily throughout. Teenage Vanessa reads Lolita as a forbidden romance in which the titular protagonist is a cruel seductress, but adult Vanessa begins to question that reasoning.
The real power of this book is that it allows the reader to see how Vanessa truly falls for her abuser. In the chapters where we relive her teenage years, we are inside her head and experiencing his manipulation firsthand. It is enticing. It makes this lonely girl feel special, intelligent and wanted. She's not stupid; she's heard of rapists and child abusers. But this is why Jacob Strane gets away with it, why many abusers get away with it, because they convince their victims they are the exception to the rule.
And how exciting it is for a young girl to be the exception to the rule! To be the one - and, surely, the only one - that could make a good man stray from the righteous path. We see how well he seduces her into thinking that they are two dark and lonely souls meant for each other in this cruel, cruel world. How could anyone else possibly understand them?
I've almost talked myself into upping my rating by writing this review. But here's the thing: this book should have been a novella. I don't know if there's a specific reason why the author shied away from writing a novella - are they harder to publish? - but this story most certainly is one. After a while, there are long, mind-numbing stretches of boring repetition and superfluous detail. So many things go on for too long. Vanessa's relationship with Henry when she goes to a different school felt, at best, drawn out, at worst it was completely unnecessary.
All of the secondary characters - and there are quite a few - were one-dimensional. Every single one. There was a chunk in the middle that seemed to alternate between Nessa and Strane having revolting sexual encounters and long boring details of Vanessa's school and social life. And for a book that spends so much time turning every detail of her life inside out, it seems to end very abruptly.
But I will return to some positives because I am reluctant to end this review on a negative. I thought it was excellent and very sad how the author showed the long-term effects of the abuse on Vanessa's whole life - her relationships, her career, and her sexuality. It is so heart-wrenching and disturbing when Vanessa catches herself imagining she is a young girl for sexual gratification and wonders if she, too, is a pervert.
I do recommend this book still. I think it has a lot of important things to say and it cut me very deep. It's just a shame that there is so much unnecessary padding.
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"I think we're very similar, Nessa," he whispers. "From the way you write, I can tell you're a dark romantic like me. You like dark things."
3 1/2 stars. I really really want to give this book a higher rating, but I cannot justify it when it is almost twice as long as it needed to be.
My Dark Vanessa has many powerful moments. It's a discomfiting, horrible story about an adult woman reevaluating the relationship she had with her English teacher when she was a teenager. It is reminiscent of The Tale and, of course, Lolita, which features heavily throughout. Teenage Vanessa reads Lolita as a forbidden romance in which the titular protagonist is a cruel seductress, but adult Vanessa begins to question that reasoning.
The real power of this book is that it allows the reader to see how Vanessa truly falls for her abuser. In the chapters where we relive her teenage years, we are inside her head and experiencing his manipulation firsthand. It is enticing. It makes this lonely girl feel special, intelligent and wanted. She's not stupid; she's heard of rapists and child abusers. But this is why Jacob Strane gets away with it, why many abusers get away with it, because they convince their victims they are the exception to the rule.
And how exciting it is for a young girl to be the exception to the rule! To be the one - and, surely, the only one - that could make a good man stray from the righteous path. We see how well he seduces her into thinking that they are two dark and lonely souls meant for each other in this cruel, cruel world. How could anyone else possibly understand them?
I've almost talked myself into upping my rating by writing this review. But here's the thing: this book should have been a novella. I don't know if there's a specific reason why the author shied away from writing a novella - are they harder to publish? - but this story most certainly is one. After a while, there are long, mind-numbing stretches of boring repetition and superfluous detail. So many things go on for too long. Vanessa's relationship with Henry when she goes to a different school felt, at best, drawn out, at worst it was completely unnecessary.
All of the secondary characters - and there are quite a few - were one-dimensional. Every single one. There was a chunk in the middle that seemed to alternate between Nessa and Strane having revolting sexual encounters and long boring details of Vanessa's school and social life. And for a book that spends so much time turning every detail of her life inside out, it seems to end very abruptly.
But I will return to some positives because I am reluctant to end this review on a negative. I thought it was excellent and very sad how the author showed the long-term effects of the abuse on Vanessa's whole life - her relationships, her career, and her sexuality. It is so heart-wrenching and disturbing when Vanessa catches herself imagining she is a young girl for sexual gratification and wonders if she, too, is a pervert.
I do recommend this book still. I think it has a lot of important things to say and it cut me very deep. It's just a shame that there is so much unnecessary padding.
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Reading Progress
October 29, 2019
– Shelved
February 2, 2020
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Started Reading
February 5, 2020
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Comments Showing 1-50 of 92 (92 new)
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queen Bella
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rated it 5 stars
10 fév. 2020 22:34
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I don't think I know Excavation, but it definitely reminded me of Maggie's story. It is terrible how far-reaching the effects of these teacher/student abuses are.
I saw this controversy. The author responded saying she had been working on the book for 20 years and that it was inspired by her personal experiences. I think a lot of people were right to point out how we can expect to see similarities when people share stories of sexual abuse-- a lot of predators work in the same way. Though Ortiz (the author of Excavation) did have a point when expressing her frustration with the whiteness of the publishing industry. The real problem she highlights is how white women find it easier to get these kind of stories published.
Great review, nonetheless (but yours always are).
Thank you. I didn't realize the book was called Excavation but I did see a lot of this controversy. I think it has been distorted somewhat by twitter going on the attack again. Ortiz was expressing her frustration as a latinx author being turned away by publishers when Russell's similar story got snapped up. This article really says it all: https://lithub.com/on-my-dark-vanessa...
It has happened, but not often. It is generally frowned upon among the online book community. Though, for me, I think it depends. If they reach out privately and politely to clarify a point, I would usually be okay with it. Is this in relation to any particular point I have made?
I figured it must be something like that. I see this a lot with these really powerful books being extended to the point where huge chunks are no longer interesting.
That Ortiz believes the publishing world is predominantly white and quite possibly favors “white” stories is one thing—and, having worked in publishing, I won’t dispute it. However, I do not feel this is the one and only reason her memoir did not find a home until much later with an indie house: memoirs of such abuse are hard to shop because it makes people uncomfortable (fiction is much easier to digest) and hers is especially loose and structure-less, which some may like/admire and Ortiz herself may have favored but this does not mean that it would be easily viewed as commercially viable by the publishing industry, already struggling to sell books, as a whole.
I feel that it is now way too easy for disgruntled authors to immediately point fingers and accuse perhaps more fortunate authors, which is both unseemly and unfair. It is not a Russell’s fault or machinations that the publishing industry works the way it does. I will now forever view Ortiz—and Roxane Gay—who poured even more fuel into the fire, with a lot of suspicion.
I personally think a major reason why this book easily found a publisher and Ortiz's did not is #metoo. These books are in demand right now and easy to market. Back in 2013/2014, that was not the case. Publishers go where the money is.
I actually disagree on this, Jeffrey. This article echoes a lot of my thoughts on the issue. The inherent racism in publishing is a huge problem that needs to be addressed, but the accusations of plagiarism honestly seem baseless here.
I've read the article. I've talked with people in the industry. There were a lot of thoughts several months ago that there was going to be an issue from people inside who were involved with the book. I think whenever a book gets a seven figure deal the whole industry sets up and takes notice. Without all that money this book would have passed on to obscurity like most other books published each year. The controversy with American Dirt is different, but equally interesting. What makes these particular books worth so much money? The "truth" of this matter maybe comes down to what each individual reader decides to believe. You decide that all issues are "baseless". I decide that there is cause for concern. If nothing else both books are exposing some real issues with the big publishing houses. I'm comfortable siding with the underdogs, the underappreciated Hispanic writers who have voiced concerns about both books. Things won't change much, but maybe things will change....just a little bit.
I just think there are two separate issues here. I am not for one second denying the existence and repeated pains and frustrations of the underappreciated Hispanic writers you mention. American Dirt was a travesty. I am still shook that they rebranded a white author as "Latinx" so they could market that book as #ownvoices. But that is a criticism of the industry (and far from baseless).
This author here has been directly accused of plagiarism (which honestly just misrepresents the whole issue) even though many people have come forward to attest how she's been working on this book for decades, and she herself wrote a post on her website about how the book reflected her own experiences, though she had hoped not to have to share that. Cases of abuse often share similarities; I've read about enough of them to know this. I believe the author and I am sorry she was forced to "out" herself as an abuse victim because of people's misdirected anger. We absolutely should be angry about the state of the publishing industry, and I am. And I'm also angry that the anger we should be directing at the industry has been directed at senselessly attacking an author on social media.
I agree that plagiarism does misrepresent the issue. I think people, for lack of what to call it, are using the term incorrectly. I don't know how anyone can call attention to these issues with the publishers without including the writers in the criticism. I agree there has been some misplaced anger towards writers that was better directed at the publishers. The publishers for the most part are faceless while the writers are out there on all the promotional material. I know as well as anyone that social media sucks. So how do we make the publishers responsible? Boycott their books? That will also hurt blameless writers. I can't ever remember a controversy in publishing where the author was not held to blame as much as the publisher. It isn't always fair, but then calling for change is rarely fair. The only very small power I have is to not promote these books and try to read and promote books that better reflect the issues being presented by these two controversial books. I appreciate your willingness to defend the writer. I understand your feeling of sympathy for her, and you certainly have the right to believe her. Like with most things it is who we choose to believe and that doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the truth. Controversy sells books so the publishers will certainly not learn a monetary lesson from Dark Vanessa or American Dirt.
That's fair. I think we do need to make use of the small amount of power we have and I am not against boycotting. I appreciate your thoughtful responses.
Interesting to see how much the goal posts have moved in regards to this "controversy." First the plagiarism word was used, but once it became clear that wasn't true, it became "appropriation," but once people started to point out that sexual abuse is something that can (and does) happen to everyone, regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, or class, then the problem became about the publishing industry paying a lot of money for a timely, suspenseful post-MeToo novel rather than an experimental, disjointed memoir six years ago. The argument to "boycott" this book is completely incoherent and seems to be a product of white people desperate enough to be "woke" after American Dirt that they're willing to go along with baseless conspiratorial thinking so long as it allows them to virtue signal.
384 in the first edition hardcover.
Hopefully not: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/02/bo...
I don't think the difference in popularity is that mystifying, to be honest. I think I can clearly pinpoint two major factors:
1) Ortiz tried to publish her book before #MeToo; Russell published after.
2) After reading the kindle sample of Excavation, I can see it is written in a far less widely-appealing and accessible style than My Dark Vanessa.
Publishers just want to make money.
I think relationship with Henry is absolutely pivotal in many ways, including how easy it is for her to fall for and how she researches for those perverse cues and signs of love.