Know My Name by Chanel Miller: Unquestionably, the Best Book of 2019

**A version of this review will appear in the Fall 2019 print edition of the Cornell Book Review.**

Remember how I said I'd bet money on the fact that Red, White & Royal Blue would be my favorite book of 2019? Well... it's still my favorite novel (key word :/) of the year! And to be fair, this book wasn't even announced until about 3 weeks before publication! 

Anyways... Chanel Miller's Know My Name is now my favorite book of the year. It may not have been as "enjoyable" as RWRB, but it is unquestionably the best book I've read all year. 

“You don’t know me, but you’ve been inside me, and that’s why we’re here,” writes the woman then known only as Emily Doe in her victim impact statement that was read around the world and even on the floor of congress. The woman, who had been sexually assaulted by then-Stanford swimmer Brock Turner, reveals her identity in her new memoir, Know My Name: Chanel Miller.

Miller herself is not just a victim. She is a survivor, a daughter, a sister, a writer, and unquestionably, she is an inspiration; Vice President Joe Biden sent her a letter following the release of her victim impact statement reading simply, “I see you.” It was Miller’s own words from that very victim impact statement that inspired what is perhaps the most famous line from Hillary Clinton’s concession speech: “To all the little girls out there, never doubt that you are valuable and powerful and deserving of every chance and opportunity in the world to pursue and achieve your own dreams.” 

Know My Name serves as a way for Miller to reclaim her identity,for her to demonstrate that she, and all survivors of violent sexual crimes, are much more than just the worst thing that has ever happened to them. While it criticizes the criminal justice system and rages against the way survivors of sexual violence are treated in our society, it does not serve as an angry manifesto, but rather as an exploration of pain and identity. In fact, Miller even states of Turner,upon hearing testimony from his former teachers and an ex-girlfriend, among others, about what a good guy he was, that, “I never questioned that any of what they said about him was true. In fact I need you to know it was all true. The friendly guy who helps you move and assists senior citizens in the pool is the same guy who assaulted me. One person can be capable of both. Society often fails to wrap its head around the fact that these truths often coexist, they are not mutually exclusive. Bad qualities can hide inside a good person. That’s the terrifying part.”

Despite being a book about a dark topic, and featuring a detailed description of what the process of getting a rape kit done is, Know My Name is nonetheless incredibly beautiful. Miller is very clearly an incredibly gifted writer; you only need to read sentences such as, “I’d been living with two teacups filled to the brim behind each eye” and “I had gone from a clueless river weeper to a prolific printmaker” to experience her gift with words.Even the cover is reminiscent of rising from the ashes, depicting the Japanese art of kintsugi, also known as “golden repair,” which is art created by broken pottery pieces, which are mended using powdered gold and lacquer, and the end product is something beautiful from something broken.

Perhaps the most significant line comes in the aftermath of Turner’s atrocious 6 month sentence. Miller states, “The judge had given broke something that would never be extended to me: empathy. My pain was never more valuable than his potential.” This passage alone demonstrates what is fundamentally wrong with our criminal justice system when it comes to sexual assault cases: an abuser’s potential is always more important than his crimes. I connected to this line so much; I had an experience with sexual harassment my senior year of high school, and, while it was nothing like what Chanel went through, my school's administration not only painted me out to be the bad girl, but they didn't take administrative action, and it was implied that they weren't willing to do this because it would mean reporting that the student had has disciplinary action taken against him to the colleges he'd applied to. It wasn't until reading this book that I felt inspired to share my own story and that I was able to put my finger on why the school's lack of action made me so angry: my abuser's potential, and what he was going through, was always more valuable than my pain and always more valuable than his reprehensible actions. At the heart of this book are the questions, "What about my pain? What about my potential? What about my worth? What am I worth?"

One of the most astonishing elements of the memoir is Miller’s ability to empathize with others. In a book that is fundamentally the story of her own pain, she addresses the pain of others with grace. She addresses the Cosby trial, the Me Too movement, Harvey Weinstein; she speaks of Larry Nassar and of Dr. Christine Blasey-Ford. She even speaks about race, discussing the death of Philando Castille at length.

One of the great things about Know My Name is that Miller goes beyond her own case and experiences. She takes readers through the election of Donald Trump, she speaks about Larry Nassar, the #MeToo movement and Harvey Weinstein, and even the testimony of Dr. Christine Blasey-Ford. Miller also speaks at length about race, dedicating a few pages to discussing the death of Philando Castile and exploring how our criminal justice system not only fails women and victims of sexual assault, but people of color as well. She speaks to the fact that, “Privilege accompanies the light skinned, helped maintain his [Brock’s] belief that consequences did not apply to him. In this system, who is untouchable? Who is disposable? Whose lives are we intent on preserving? Who goes unaccounted for? Who is the true disrupter, the one firing, the one fingering, who created a problem where there never was one?”

Know My Name is a beautiful book by an even more beautiful writer, one that should be mandatory reading for anyone working in law enforcement and the criminal justice system. It should also be read by young men, the next generation of could-be Brock Turners who have grown up believing that sex is their God-given right and a woman’s body is theirs for the taking. It is also a book that fundamentally changes, for the better, the way our society views sexual assault and treats its survivors.

 If there is one book you read this year, it should be this one.

XOXO,

Isabella