That there are stratums of privilege even within fat communities. When she’s not reflecting on her own life, Gay is pointing at broader uncomfortable truths about bodies: That society openly prefers one kind of eating disorder (anorexia) over another (binge eating) because we value thinness over all things. In short, stinging chapters, Gay traces her fatness back to a childhood gang rape and the resulting emotional aftermath, and meditates on themes of trauma, fear, and power. But while the book’s form is fragmented, as a work it is utterly complete. Part memoir, part cultural criticism, it reads like a thematically linked essay collection that someone took a fist to. Roxane Gay’s new book, Hunger, is a tremendous and valuable thing: a relentless, shattering exploration of Gay’s appetite for both food and control.
They sometimes write tremendous and valuable things.”) (As Mallory Ortberg wrote in response at The Toast, “‘We’d have bought this book EVEN IF-I don’t know-the writer were 500 pounds, as if that could ever happen.’ But that could, and does, happen! People of that size both exist and write. There’s so much in that comment: the fact that an editor at a major house felt comfortable saying that out loud, the fact that she thinks a very fat person would be “hard to look at,” her confessing that publishers consider an author’s appearance before hastily contradicting herself with what she presents as a hyperbolic scenario. But: “We would have paid her the same money if she weighed five hundred pounds and was really hard to look at. “We look at all of that stuff,” she said. Discussing Knopf’s acquisition of Stephanie Danler’s novel Sweetbitter, Herr acknowledged that the way an author looks can affect an advance. Last summer, Claudia Herr, then an editor at Knopf, casually told Entertainment Weekly that publishers think about certain factors unrelated to talent before they drop comically massive advances on debut authors.
Yet we see, all the time, the ways it does matter. On the surface, this makes sense: Pages look the same no matter what the author weighs, right? Why should it matter? They express disbelief that fatness (a word they seem uncomfortable saying, or even alluding to) is any kind of obstacle to being a writer. Folks are often surprised when I make this point. As with so many other categories of identity-race, gender, sexual orientation-that lack of visibility is very much at odds with the makeup of the general population. The intersection of these realizations-that I hadn’t expected her to be fat, that I was so moved and excited that she was, that internalized fatphobia has such incredible power-surprised and disturbed me.Īs a fat writer, I have always been aware of how rarely I see other fat writers. Here was a woman I admired so acutely, in a body I wasn’t expecting, a body that in some ways looked like mine. The first time I saw Roxane Gay, at a reading in Philadelphia for her book An Untamed State, I felt like I’d been pinched.