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Book Review: Dead Weight: Essays on Hunger and Harm by Emmeline Clein
A woman in eating disorder recovery explores the world of eating disorders and treatment in the west through a pop culture lens.
Summary:
Emmeline Clein tells the story of her own disordered eating alongside, and through, other women from history, pop culture and the girls she’s known and loved. Tracing the medical and cultural history of anorexia, bulimia, binge eating disorder, and orthorexia, Clein investigates the economic conditions underpinning our eating disorder epidemic, and illuminates the ways racism and today’s feminism have been complicit in propping up the thin ideal. While examining Goop, Simone Weil, pro-anorexia blogs, and the flawed logic of our current treatment methods, Clein grapples with the myriad ways disordered eating has affected her own friendships and romantic relationships.
Review:
This collection of essays consisting of research intertwined with memoir was an engaging read. I particularly liked how Clein approached talking about the negative aspects of Big Pharma in a historical context. That wasn’t something I was expecting in this book, and it was well done. Expect to learn about how amphetamines were marketed as a weight loss drug post WWII because the manufacturers needed a new market now that soldiers were no longer using them to stay awake. Or about how it was Big Pharma who advocated for the labeling of obesity as a disease in the early 2000s (so insurance would pay for drugs to “treat” it.) Or about how the company that originally marketed amphetamines for ADHD was fined for “inappropriate marketing.” (For more about the impact of big pharma on our everyday lives, see my review of Drugs for Life.)
Another thing I appreciated as a person in recovery from addiction was how Clein analyzed addiction and eating disorders as systemic, rather than personal, issues.
The addiction model still requires that we understand ourselves as addicts, rather than see our culture, our food systems, and drug and diet companies as conspiring to encourage addictive patterns. When we believe we are sinners and criminals who deserve to be punished because we are out of control, we don’t demand change to any of the underlying structures that are actually out of our control, controlled by corporations. In it current iteration, the addiction model still makes us blame ourselves and then retrofit our stories into some fictional hero’s journey of abstinence and discipline over the compulsion to consume–stories rooted in the very values at the heart of anorexia and its hold on so many minds.
There were a few things that I did not like about the book, though.
First, her take on the intersection of Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) and eating disorders is woefully short-sighted and lacking empathy for not only those with IBS but other chronic illnesses that the medical industry offers little to nothing for. (Strange for a book that takes down big pharma so aggressively.) Clein presents the opinion that IBs is essentially always second to developing an eating disorder. That IBS symptoms are the body’s natural response to being starved or facing binges. But EDs can be and are triggered by IBS. The fact is, for many people, an ED develops in response to suffering from IBS.
Second, her choice to exclude men from a book about ED is troubling. The overall thesis seems to be that a minuscule number of men have EDs so it’s not worth talking about. In fact, approximately 1/3 of those known to have an ED are men, and there is concern that EDs in men are underreported. Even if it was the case that very few men have EDs (which again, it is not), leaving them out of the book hurts the overall arguments about EDs.
Third, Clein does not talk at all about the interplay between EDs and OCD. This is a more glaring lapse given how much space is given to discussing depression, anxiety, and EDs.
Fourth, while drinking is mentioned repeatedly, drunkorexia is not discussed at all, nor is alcoholism, something which, again, often comes hand-in-hand with EDs and is even seen in vignettes in the book but not addressed.
Fifth, there is a chapter about religion and ED. It completely ignores all other faiths except Judaism, Protestantism, and Catholicism. Clein does not understand Protestantism enough to discuss it in the ways that she does. Every time she brings up Protestantism, it’s clear she doesn’t have a high level understanding of it. She basically makes comments about Protestantism being all about asceticism and self-denial and then moves on. Unlike Catholicism, she does not limit her comments about Protestantism to only the chapter when she’s discussing religion explicitly either. It trickles in throughout the book. (She does also discuss Judaism throughout the book, but she is Jewish, and her faith comes up in the memoir portions, which makes sense.)
As you can perhaps tell from both the featured quote and how long this review is, this is a long and dense book. It seems to have attempted to do something very large when perhaps it might have been better served with a narrower focus and more memoir.
Overall, this book features important information on the intertwining of Big Pharma and eating disorders in the west but it does fall short of an inclusive portrait of eating disorders in the west.
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3 out of 5 stars
Length: 288 pages – average but on the shorter side
Source: Library
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Book Review: Something Spectacular: The True Story of One Rockette’s Battle with Bulimia by Greta Gleissner (Audiobook narrated by Dina Pearlman)
Summary:
Greta Gleissner finally achieved her lifelong dream of making a living just from her professional dancing. She landed the prestigious job of being a Rockette in the New York City show. She hoped that this newfound stability and prestige would cure her of her bulimia. What was there to binge and purge about when she was living her dream? But her eating disorder she’d had since a young age won’t just disappear because of her newfound success. Soon, her bulimia is putting her job–and her life–at risk.
Review:
I was immediately intrigued by the elements of this eating disorder memoir that make it different from the, sadly, so many others that exist. Greta’s eating disorder peaks in her 20s, not her teens. She was a Rockette, and she’s a lesbian. An eating disorder memoir about someone in their 20s in the dance industry who is also queer was very appealing to me. What I found was a memoir that gives insight to having an eating disorder, the impact of homophobia, and an inside look at the professional dance world told in a non-linear, honest, and engaging manner.
Greta tells her memoir in the framework of a play. There are scenes, acts, overtures, etc… This lets her address the story in a non-linear way that still makes sense. The overture, for instance, shows a dramatic moment when her eating disorder was at full tilt and destroying her life. Then she backs up to the few months before she became a Rockette. The time of auditioning then being a Rockette is interspersed with flashbacks to help us better understand her life. Finally, she enters an inpatient clinic, where we get flashbacks in the context of her therapy. It’s a creative storytelling technique that brings a freshness to her memoir.
Honesty without cruelty to herself or others is a key part of her narrative voice. Greta is straightforward, sometimes grotesquely so, about her bulimia and what it does to her. The eating disorder is not glamorized. Greta takes us down into the nitty-gritty of the illness. In fact, it’s the first bulimia memoir I’ve read that was so vivid and straightforward in its depictions of what the illness is and what it does. In some ways, it made me see bulimia as a bit of a mix between an addiction and body image issues. Greta was able to show both how something that was helping you cope can spiral out of control, as well as how poor self-esteem and body image led her to purging her food.
Greta also is unafraid to tell us about what goes on inside her own mind, and where she sees herself as having mistreated people in the past. I never doubted her honesty. Similarly, although Greta’s parents definitely did some things wrong in how they raised her, Greta strives to both acknowledge the wounds and accept her parents as flawed and wounded in their own ways. You can hear her recovery in how she talks about both them and her childhood. She has clearly done the work to heal past wounds.
The memoir honestly made me grateful the dancing I did as a child never went the professional route. It’s disturbing how pervasive body policing and addictions in general are in the dance world, at least as depicted by Greta. Similarly, it eloquently demonstrates how parents’ issues get passed down to the children, and sometimes even exacerbated. Greta’s mother was a non-professional dancer who was constantly dieting. Greta also loved dancing but her mother’s body image issues got passed down to her as well. Food was never just food in her household.
One shortcoming of the memoir is that Greta never fully addresses her internalized homophobia or how she ultimately overcomes it and marries her wife. The book stops rather abruptly when Greta is leaving the halfway house she lived in right after her time in the inpatient clinic. There is an epilogue where she briefly touches on the time after the halfway house, mentions relapse, and states that she ultimately overcame her internalized homophobia and met her now wife. However, for the duration of her time in the clinic and the halfway house, she herself admits she wasn’t yet ready to address her sexuality or deal with her internalized homophobia. It was clear to me reading the book that at least part of her self-hatred that led to her bulimia was due to her issues with her sexuality. Leaving out how she dealt with that and healed felt like leaving out a huge chunk of the story I was very interested in. Perhaps it’s just too painful of a topic for her to discuss, but it did feel as if the memoir gave glimpses and teasers of it, discussing how she would only make out with women when very drunk for instance, but then the issue is never fully addressed in the memoir.
Similarly, leaving out the time after the halfway house was disappointing. I wanted to see her finish overcoming and succeeding. I wanted to hear the honesty of her relapses that she admits she had and how she overcome that. I wanted to hear about her dating and meeting her wife and embracing her sexuality. Hearing about the growth and strength past the initial part in the clinic and halfway house is just as interesting and engaging as and more inspiring than her darker times. I wish she had told that part of the story too.
The audiobook narrator, Dina Pearlman, was a great choice for the memoir. Her voice reads as gritty feminine, which is perfect for the story. She also handles some of the asides and internal diatribes present in mental illness memoirs with great finesse.
Overall, this is a unique entry in the eating disorder memoir canon. It gives the nitty gritty details of bulimia from the perspective of a lesbian suffering from homophobia within the framework of the dance world. Those who might be triggered should be aware that specific height and weight numbers are given, as well as details on binge foods and purging episodes. It also, unfortunately, doesn’t fully address how the author healed from the wounds of homophobia. However, her voice as a queer person is definitely present in the memoir. Recommended to those with an interest in bulimia in adults, in the dance world, or among GLBTQ people.
4 out of 5 stars
Source: Audible
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This work by Amanda Nevius is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
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