Women We Buried, Women We Burned: A Memoir - Rachel Louise Snyder - ★★★.½

AUTHOR & NARRATOR: Rachel Louise Snyder

GENRE: Memoir

RATING: 3.5 stars

In a Nutshell: An interesting memoir by a woman who grew up in an extreme evangelical family and made her own way around the world using nothing but her own skills. Not exactly as promised in the blurb, but a decent read nonetheless.

Synopsis:

When author Rachel Snyder was eight (in 1977), her Jewish mom died of cancer. Her Christian father remarried a Christian divorcee with two kids of her own, and soon opted for an extreme style of evangelical faith and stringent parenting, with corporal punishment being a regular part of his disciplining strategy. Snyder soon became a rebel, being expelled from school, choosing drugs and alcohol, living out of her car, and relying on strangers for her survival. However, her hereditary marketing & communication skills, courtesy her father’s various MLM businesses, ensure that she talks her way to college and later, to travelling across the globe.

This memoir focusses on her early life, her escape, her years in Cambodia, and the circumstances behind her return to the US.

First, let me set the expectations right.

The title, though impactful, is misleading. Somehow, it generalises the topic, giving a feel that the book talks of women who have been attacked by society for various reasons. The book, however, is entirely from a personal point of view, with only a few pages talking of women in general.

The blurb also provides a different idea about the content. This line in particular - “ In places like India, Tibet, and Niger, she interviewed those who had been through the unimaginable.” - is probably what she did in real life but it is not a part of the book at all. I admit, the reference to India was one big reason for my requesting this book, and I was disappointed to see that India is mentioned barely a couple of times in passing. The public problem of domestic violence is also not covered to the extent promised. Also, “her distraught father thrust the family into an evangelical, cult-like existence” led me to believe that they had actually joined a cult, which isn’t the case at all. Finally, I avoid memoirs that involve drugs or alcohol or casual sex. (Just a personal reading preference.) The blurb gave no clue about this content, else I wouldn’t have picked this up.

Basically, I had opted for this book assuming that it was an expose of the harsh facts related to domestic violence. What I got was a somewhat typical memoir, talking about survival and rebellion and resilience. A major chunk of the book is dedicated to her childhood after mother's death and her younger years after her father's remarriage. It is only after about the 60% mark that she talks about her international experiences, and those too are restricted to her years and personal experiences in Cambodia with no clue about how she earned her living there.

This is not to take away from her story. If anyone writes a memoir, it goes without saying that they have something to share, and this author has a lot to share indeed. Her childhood years under her domineering father were horrendous, and it must have taken a lot of courage to explore those old wounds again and pen them down. When she writes, “I lost my mother to cancer and my father to religion”, your heart actually breaks for her. The elements set in Cambodia were very interesting, and I could see glimpses of her journalistic prowess.

But as this is a book review, I am rating and reviewing the book and not the person. And the book, specifically the writing style, generated mixed feelings in me.

The narration of many events seems as ad hoc as Snyder’s job choices, seemingly going from random point to random point without any flow. Many important elements of her life, such as her decision of opting for journalism or her divorce, are brushed aside hastily. There are time jumps without warning, and while we can fill in some of the blanks, many facts stay hidden even until the end. I wish the book would have plugged in these gaps so that we readers got to experience a fluid narrative than one coming in spurts.

The ending is what disappointed me the most. The book goes a whole circle as Snyder returns to her father and her stepmom due to certain personal situations. Until that point, we hear nothing positive about her parents, but after her return, all we see is her sympathy and acceptance of her stepmom without any mention of what provoked this abrupt change of heart. The decision of forgiveness and acceptance seems to come out of nowhere. Another sore point for me is that I am not sure of how the stepmom, who was a reserved woman, would have felt [were she alive] about some of her intimate details being revealed in a public work.

 

🎧 The Audiobook Experience:

The audiobook, clocking at 9 hrs 48 minutes, is read by the author herself. I am not usually a fan of authors reading their own works, but in this case, the author does a great job. If the content interests you, the audiobook is a great way of experiencing this memoir.

All in all, this is an interesting memoir focussing on one woman’s tough life and her determination to make it in the world. Don’t pick it up expecting a greater focus on domestic violence or a spotlight on the other countries mentioned in the blurb. It shares a journey of personal growth than of social activism.

My thanks to NetGalley, Bloomsbury USA for the DRC, and HighBridge Audio for the ALC of “Women We Buried, Women We Burned”. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the book.

Content warnings: Drug abuse, alcohol abuse, rape, casual sex, domestic violence, physical punishment.