SAD TIGER, French-Mexican author NEIGE SINNO begins a society-wide conversation

SAD TIGER
NEIGE SINNO (tr. Natasha Lehrer)
Seven Stories Press (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$12.99 ebook, available now

Rating: ???

Read this fascinating interview with Author Sinno!

The Publisher Says: Winner of multiple prizes, Neige Sinno has created a powerful literary form with Sad Tiger, a book that took France by storm and is an international phenomenon.

Sad Tiger is built on the facts of a series of devastating events. Neige Sinno was seven years old when her stepfather started sexually abusing her. At 19, she decided to break the silence that is so common in all cultures around sexual violence. This led to a public trial and prison for her stepfather and Sinno started a new life in Mexico.

Through the construction of a fragmented narrative, Sinno explores the different facets of memory—her own, her mother’s, as well as her abusive stepfather’s; and of abuse itself in all its monstrosity and banality. Her account is woven together with a close reading of literary works by Vladimir Nabokov, Virginia Woolf, Toni Morrison, Christine Angot, and Virginie Despentes among others.

Sad Tiger—the title inspired by William Blake’s poem “The Tyger”—is a literary exploration into how to speak about the unspeakable. In this extraordinary book there is an abiding concern: how to protect others from what the author herself endured? In the midst of so much darkness, an answer reads crystal clear: by speaking up and asking questions. A striking, shocking, and necessary masterpiece.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA EDELWEISS+. THANK YOU.

My Review: Reading this story was hellish. Like Sinno, I was sexually abused and gaslighted...by my mother. Her actions to isolate me, to define reality and acceptability and maintain her power over me were appalling. Adult me, in his sixties, has never had a moment of life without this disgusting stain leaching through every act, thought, relationship; it is impossible to describe the utter life-changing (blighting, really) miasma the incest survivor exists under. Again like Sinno, I started a new life far away...in New York, not *quite* as far as Mexico is from France.

Like Sinno, I experienced the isolation of the victim in the cage of silence...doubled by the fact that I'm male, and my abuser female. In an incest-survivors' group I sought out (at my stepmother's urging, she knew the signs from experience) in 1980s New York City, the women who greeted me with great hostility for simply being male also accused me of lying..."no woman would do that!"...so more years were lost to silent rage and pain.

I think it's very telling that #MeToo never included incest survivors in its public faces. Sinno relates the probable reasons in a section she calls "Reasons for not wanting to write this book," all of which made me nod along.

Like Sinno, people I told about my mother's rape of me were appalled...and immediately wondered what made my mother do this awful thing (her father did it to her, her older brother told me). No one ever seemed to think much about how I was handling my emotional responses. I learned, not for the first time, that women do not want to talk about feelings and emotions OF men, only about theirs AT men. Listen to me complain but don't say a word about yourself, you self-centered abuser. This is a paraphrase, but it is a valid one.

Decades of therapy later, I view everything connected to incest very differently than I did while women were emotionally abusing or simply ignoring my scarred, scared trauma survivorhood. It became second nature to deflect or avoid emotional contact with any others, especially women. Friends kept at a distance, lovers reduced to objects...all of this is part of my incest survival strategy. Sinno and her book could, if the culture allows it and if those of us who know the costs of silence speak in support of it, make a substantive change for the better in later survivors' experiences.

This is me speaking in support of this necessary, awful read. Most especially for those who say "it's horrifying, I can't read that" to themselves or out loud.

Your failure of empathy speaks louder than any words.