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Notes To Self
`The person who loves the addict exhausts and renews their love on a daily basis' In this vivid and powerful collection of essays, the first non- fiction book published by Tramp Press, Emilie Pine boldly confronts the past to better understand herself, her relationships and her role in society. Tackling subjects like addiction, fertility, feminism and sexual violence, and where these subjects intersect with legislation, these beautifully written essays are at once fascinating and funny, intimate and searingly honest. Honest, raw, brave and new, Notes to Self breaks new ground in the field of personal essays.
183 pages, Paperback
First published July 19, 2018
555 people are currently reading
27.8k people want to read
About the author
Emilie Pine
11Ìýbooks345ÌýfollowersEmilie Pine is an Associate Professor in Modern Drama at the University College Dublin, and is the author of the No.1 bestseller Notes to Self (Tramp Press).
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,750 reviews
September 22, 2018
I cannot understand why this book of essays is so highly acclaimed. Although Emilie Pine is a good writer, this book was an absolute chore to read.
I found myself repeatedly judging the author. I could not help judging her neglectful, selfish parents either. I wanted to feel compassion for all of them, but I simply felt annoyed. Was I really expected to feel sorry for Pine because she had to wear hand me downs rather than designer branded clothing as a child? First. World. Problems. I had little sympathy when she complained about the slimy sandwiches she occasionally had to eat for school lunches. Pine’s idea of being “poor� is very different than mine.
While it is understandable that Pine suffered mental health issues as a result of her upbringing, I questioned why she chose to regurgitate every shocking, painful experience of her youth, in what seemed like a raw journal entry, to the public. Her extreme attention seeking antics as a teenager are forgivable, but this book felt like another desperate attempt to be seen.
I did not find the essays to be insightful, interesting or transformative. Other books touching on similar subject matter, such as Roxanne Gay’s Bad Feminist, are thought provoking, whereas I found these essays tedious. Pine often came across as narcissistic to me. I did not find it surprising when she revealed in her final essay that she does not empathise with others. Strangely she wants the reader to care about her feelings, while admitting that she does not care about ours.
I wanted to like Pine and root for her to overcome her difficulties, but she didn’t make it easy. At one point Pine goes so far as to criticise her colleagues at a female leadership course for choosing their mothers as role models. “No wonder you can’t get promoted, I thought, meanly, if your role model stayed at home.� Wow. I thought the goal of feminism is to lift women up and ensure that we have choices. Pine does, at least, recognise and name her own internalised sexism.
The strongest essay in my opinion was about her father. Notes On Impermanence sets the tone for the entire book. She describes what many children of alcoholics experience as they navigate their conflicting feelings of love for a wounded parent as well as sadness, anger, confusion, loneliness, and rejection.
Redemption stories are very powerful. It would have interested me if Pine had shared more about her process of developing self worth and transforming her life. Instead it read like a long rant. Maybe the process of writing was cathartic for Pine, but as a reader it left me feeling flat.
I found myself repeatedly judging the author. I could not help judging her neglectful, selfish parents either. I wanted to feel compassion for all of them, but I simply felt annoyed. Was I really expected to feel sorry for Pine because she had to wear hand me downs rather than designer branded clothing as a child? First. World. Problems. I had little sympathy when she complained about the slimy sandwiches she occasionally had to eat for school lunches. Pine’s idea of being “poor� is very different than mine.
While it is understandable that Pine suffered mental health issues as a result of her upbringing, I questioned why she chose to regurgitate every shocking, painful experience of her youth, in what seemed like a raw journal entry, to the public. Her extreme attention seeking antics as a teenager are forgivable, but this book felt like another desperate attempt to be seen.
I did not find the essays to be insightful, interesting or transformative. Other books touching on similar subject matter, such as Roxanne Gay’s Bad Feminist, are thought provoking, whereas I found these essays tedious. Pine often came across as narcissistic to me. I did not find it surprising when she revealed in her final essay that she does not empathise with others. Strangely she wants the reader to care about her feelings, while admitting that she does not care about ours.
I wanted to like Pine and root for her to overcome her difficulties, but she didn’t make it easy. At one point Pine goes so far as to criticise her colleagues at a female leadership course for choosing their mothers as role models. “No wonder you can’t get promoted, I thought, meanly, if your role model stayed at home.� Wow. I thought the goal of feminism is to lift women up and ensure that we have choices. Pine does, at least, recognise and name her own internalised sexism.
The strongest essay in my opinion was about her father. Notes On Impermanence sets the tone for the entire book. She describes what many children of alcoholics experience as they navigate their conflicting feelings of love for a wounded parent as well as sadness, anger, confusion, loneliness, and rejection.
Redemption stories are very powerful. It would have interested me if Pine had shared more about her process of developing self worth and transforming her life. Instead it read like a long rant. Maybe the process of writing was cathartic for Pine, but as a reader it left me feeling flat.
August 11, 2021
"I am afraid of being the disruptive woman. And of not being disruptive enough. I am afraid, but I'm doing it anyway."
I'd like to take Emilie Pine for coffee, and have a real, long chat about the taboos that are apparently best left unspoken in regards to women today. Personally, I embrace these kind of taboos, and I am a believer of breaking the mould. I like to tell people how immensely shitty I'm feeling due to my period, or, how nervous I get when I'm about to perform, or, how it aggravates me to the core when a fellow colleague is being paid more than me because he is male. Yes, all this and more.
I've noticed rather a lot of negative reviews in regards to this book, and it has puzzled me as to why. Bearing ones soul either in writing or in person can be frightening as hell. I think it takes a certain amount of courage to be able to do so, and that is why I hold respect to any individual that does that.
The prose isn't beautiful in this, but the raw, bare honesty, is. I found I could relate to some of Pine's struggles throughout her life, and I found myself nodding as I was reading. The essay about menstruation particularly touched home. Let's face it, we're in 2019, and women are sometimes still made feel that it's disgusting or shameful to be menstruating, but, if it is in regards to sex, then it is ok to be talked about.
I loved this collection of essays. It was straight talking, and it was unflinchingly honest. Thank you Emilie Pine.
I'd like to take Emilie Pine for coffee, and have a real, long chat about the taboos that are apparently best left unspoken in regards to women today. Personally, I embrace these kind of taboos, and I am a believer of breaking the mould. I like to tell people how immensely shitty I'm feeling due to my period, or, how nervous I get when I'm about to perform, or, how it aggravates me to the core when a fellow colleague is being paid more than me because he is male. Yes, all this and more.
I've noticed rather a lot of negative reviews in regards to this book, and it has puzzled me as to why. Bearing ones soul either in writing or in person can be frightening as hell. I think it takes a certain amount of courage to be able to do so, and that is why I hold respect to any individual that does that.
The prose isn't beautiful in this, but the raw, bare honesty, is. I found I could relate to some of Pine's struggles throughout her life, and I found myself nodding as I was reading. The essay about menstruation particularly touched home. Let's face it, we're in 2019, and women are sometimes still made feel that it's disgusting or shameful to be menstruating, but, if it is in regards to sex, then it is ok to be talked about.
I loved this collection of essays. It was straight talking, and it was unflinchingly honest. Thank you Emilie Pine.
July 18, 2018
I have never read anything like this, so honest, so bare. It reaches into the deepest recesses of what it means to be human, the places we do not even let ourselves go, let alone others. It has made me think differently about the world, and that is the greatest thing we can find in writing.
April 26, 2025
Cried with almost every essay � mostly because some things were so deeply relatable and seeing them named on the page like this felt like a gut punch. But oh so beautiful.
November 29, 2019
4.5/5. I might be doing the book an injustice by saying this, but reading this felt a bit like reading the author's diary � that is to say, a very well written, very nuanced and admirably self-aware diary. Reading this just felt very intimate.
In these essays, Emilie Pine takes a deep-dive into her own life, writing about the experiences and tragedies that have shaped her upbringing and her more recent years � her father's alcoholism, her struggle with infertility, her parent's separation (y'know, all that fun stuff). She talks about her relationship to menstruation and her own body (the essay Notes on Bleeding & Other Crimes was probably my favourite one overall). She does so in a very straight-forward manner that cuts straight to the point while still leaving room for different interpretations, perspectives and nuances. I felt completely immersed in Emilie Pine's writing while reading this and even now � two weeks after finishing it � I keep thinking about her words and their impact.
In these essays, Emilie Pine takes a deep-dive into her own life, writing about the experiences and tragedies that have shaped her upbringing and her more recent years � her father's alcoholism, her struggle with infertility, her parent's separation (y'know, all that fun stuff). She talks about her relationship to menstruation and her own body (the essay Notes on Bleeding & Other Crimes was probably my favourite one overall). She does so in a very straight-forward manner that cuts straight to the point while still leaving room for different interpretations, perspectives and nuances. I felt completely immersed in Emilie Pine's writing while reading this and even now � two weeks after finishing it � I keep thinking about her words and their impact.
October 15, 2018
“I am afraid of being the disruptive woman. And of not being disruptive enough.�
Emilie Pine, a lecturer at University College Dublin, has written a mostly engaging, honest, and occasionally brave book of personal essays about important experiences in her life. The collection opens with a very strong piece about her father’s 2013 alcoholic health crisis on the Greek Island of Corfu. (Given the state of Greek hospitals, this is not the place where you want to experience a medical emergency.) Years of drinking had caused veins in Richard Pine’s lower esophagus to rupture suddenly (a not-uncommon consequence of serious liver disease); he required prompt treatment, which included blood transfusions. Emilie explains how, from her home in Dublin, she had to arrange for one of his friends in Corfu to badger a reluctant ambulance driver to get her dad to the hospital. (Why would anyone want to interrupt a lovely Sunday with the family to transport a likely goner, and a stranger to boot, to a medical facility?) Hours and several connecting flights later (Corfu is not easy to get to from Dublin during the off season), Emilie and her younger sister would find their father lying in his own waste on a hospital ward with neither a doctor nor a nurse in sight. They’d be forced to buy medical supplies—absorbent pads and disposable surgical gloves—and deliver much of their father’s care themselves. Pine uses this episode as a route into a deeper consideration of the mess of emotions—love, frustration, anxiety, helplessness, and rage—that plague the child of an addict. That essay alone is worth the price of admission.
In the essays that follow, Pine takes on other painful life events and taboo topics: her infertility, miscarriage(s), and the medical community’s paternalistic withholding of important information about her own body from her; her beloved sister’s first, tragic pregnancy and labour; her parents� separation and the stigma associated with it—divorce was only signed into law in Ireland in 1996; female blood—menstruation and its cessation; her turbulent adolescence, fuelled by loneliness, in which she repeatedly put herself in harm’s way; and, finally, her experiences in the workplace.
Although the subject matter is sometimes dark (particularly “Something about Me�, my least favourite piece, which concerns her chaotic teen-age years) Pine does not wallow in self-pity or misery. Her perspective is clear-eyed, and her prose is generally clean and unpretentious. I found some essays—the earlier ones—stronger than others, and I wish she had concluded her book with thoughts that sounded a little less like a pop psychology pep talk. Having said all this, from what I saw here, I hope we’ll be hearing more from Emilie Pine.
Emilie Pine, a lecturer at University College Dublin, has written a mostly engaging, honest, and occasionally brave book of personal essays about important experiences in her life. The collection opens with a very strong piece about her father’s 2013 alcoholic health crisis on the Greek Island of Corfu. (Given the state of Greek hospitals, this is not the place where you want to experience a medical emergency.) Years of drinking had caused veins in Richard Pine’s lower esophagus to rupture suddenly (a not-uncommon consequence of serious liver disease); he required prompt treatment, which included blood transfusions. Emilie explains how, from her home in Dublin, she had to arrange for one of his friends in Corfu to badger a reluctant ambulance driver to get her dad to the hospital. (Why would anyone want to interrupt a lovely Sunday with the family to transport a likely goner, and a stranger to boot, to a medical facility?) Hours and several connecting flights later (Corfu is not easy to get to from Dublin during the off season), Emilie and her younger sister would find their father lying in his own waste on a hospital ward with neither a doctor nor a nurse in sight. They’d be forced to buy medical supplies—absorbent pads and disposable surgical gloves—and deliver much of their father’s care themselves. Pine uses this episode as a route into a deeper consideration of the mess of emotions—love, frustration, anxiety, helplessness, and rage—that plague the child of an addict. That essay alone is worth the price of admission.
In the essays that follow, Pine takes on other painful life events and taboo topics: her infertility, miscarriage(s), and the medical community’s paternalistic withholding of important information about her own body from her; her beloved sister’s first, tragic pregnancy and labour; her parents� separation and the stigma associated with it—divorce was only signed into law in Ireland in 1996; female blood—menstruation and its cessation; her turbulent adolescence, fuelled by loneliness, in which she repeatedly put herself in harm’s way; and, finally, her experiences in the workplace.
Although the subject matter is sometimes dark (particularly “Something about Me�, my least favourite piece, which concerns her chaotic teen-age years) Pine does not wallow in self-pity or misery. Her perspective is clear-eyed, and her prose is generally clean and unpretentious. I found some essays—the earlier ones—stronger than others, and I wish she had concluded her book with thoughts that sounded a little less like a pop psychology pep talk. Having said all this, from what I saw here, I hope we’ll be hearing more from Emilie Pine.
November 27, 2019
This is a competent essay collection and it's not difficult to see why it's gotten so much critical acclaim; it's topical, to the point, and easily digested.Ìý Some of these essays really worked for me; the standouts being the opening essay, Notes on Intemperance where Pine discusses her father's alcoholism and illness, and Something About Me - more on this one in a second - but ultimately this essay collection just fell a bit flat for me.
My problem with was that I never felt like Emilie Pine was bringing anything new to the table.Ìý The common theme among these essays seems to be 'let's talk about it': let's talk about period blood, let's talk about infertility, let's talk about the effect of divorce on young children, let's talk about alcoholic parents - but the problem is, it's a lot of talking without really saying anything.Ìý I'm not suggesting that personal essays need a moral, necessarily, or that they need to draw a conclusion, but I do think that for them to be effective, they need to bring in a unique perspective, and that's what I felt like this essay collection lacked.Ìý Emilie Pine is clearly an intelligent woman and a capable writer, but something kept getting lost in these essays for me.Ìý I wanted them to hook me, speak to me, challenge me, but they never did.
It's probably not incidental therefore that my favorite essay, Something About Me, was technically one of the messier ones in this collection.Ìý It's about Pine's rebellious teenage years, and structurally it's a bit all over the place, and it undergoes a radical tonal shift in its final pages.Ìý But I felt like it was one of the only essays where Pine was really showing herself; not just talking abstractly about topics that have affected her, but showing the reader a glimpse of herself that I felt otherwise remained hidden.
It's also quite possible that part of the problem was that this was so similar in tone and structure to Sinead Gleeson's , which is one of the best things I've read all year.Ìý I wouldn't dissuade others from picking up , but is the one I'd really point you toward if 'Irish memoirist essay collection about feminism, illness, and womanhood' is a premise that appeals to you.Ìý
My problem with was that I never felt like Emilie Pine was bringing anything new to the table.Ìý The common theme among these essays seems to be 'let's talk about it': let's talk about period blood, let's talk about infertility, let's talk about the effect of divorce on young children, let's talk about alcoholic parents - but the problem is, it's a lot of talking without really saying anything.Ìý I'm not suggesting that personal essays need a moral, necessarily, or that they need to draw a conclusion, but I do think that for them to be effective, they need to bring in a unique perspective, and that's what I felt like this essay collection lacked.Ìý Emilie Pine is clearly an intelligent woman and a capable writer, but something kept getting lost in these essays for me.Ìý I wanted them to hook me, speak to me, challenge me, but they never did.
It's probably not incidental therefore that my favorite essay, Something About Me, was technically one of the messier ones in this collection.Ìý It's about Pine's rebellious teenage years, and structurally it's a bit all over the place, and it undergoes a radical tonal shift in its final pages.Ìý But I felt like it was one of the only essays where Pine was really showing herself; not just talking abstractly about topics that have affected her, but showing the reader a glimpse of herself that I felt otherwise remained hidden.
It's also quite possible that part of the problem was that this was so similar in tone and structure to Sinead Gleeson's , which is one of the best things I've read all year.Ìý I wouldn't dissuade others from picking up , but is the one I'd really point you toward if 'Irish memoirist essay collection about feminism, illness, and womanhood' is a premise that appeals to you.Ìý
September 8, 2021
“…o bir kızdı ve kızlara sessiz olmaları öğretilirdi, dinlenmeye layık olmadıkları öğretilirdi, dinlenmeye layık olmadıkları öğretilirdi. Bir şeyler -ne olursa- söyleme riskini göze alanlar, küstah veya kibirli olduklarının düşünülmesi riskini de göze almış olurlardı. Bu korkularla doğmuyorlardı. Değersiz oldukları hissiyle doğmuyorlardı. Bunlar öğretiliyordu onlara. Biliyorum çünkü bana da öğretilmişti.�
Bu kitap üzerine uzun uzun anlatmak istediğim çok şey var ama ön bir yorum olarak söyleyebileceğim bu kadar sarsıcı bir dürüstlükle yazılmış yüzleşme kitabına çok nadiren rastlayabilirsiniz. Alkolik ve dağılmış ebeveynlerin evladı olmaktan, anne olamamaya, kayıp gençlikten, gününüz akademik dünyasına, reglden, kısırlığa, menopozdan, cinsel şiddete, yemek bozukluklarına kadar bir kadın olarak hayata kalmaya dair muazzam bir anlatı.
Bu kitap üzerine uzun uzun anlatmak istediğim çok şey var ama ön bir yorum olarak söyleyebileceğim bu kadar sarsıcı bir dürüstlükle yazılmış yüzleşme kitabına çok nadiren rastlayabilirsiniz. Alkolik ve dağılmış ebeveynlerin evladı olmaktan, anne olamamaya, kayıp gençlikten, gününüz akademik dünyasına, reglden, kısırlığa, menopozdan, cinsel şiddete, yemek bozukluklarına kadar bir kadın olarak hayata kalmaya dair muazzam bir anlatı.
January 6, 2020
I was so very hyped for this book - on paper it sounds like everything I love in non-fiction (themes of feminism and bodily autonomy amongst other thing) and it came so very highly recommended that I was very sure I would love it. I did not love it. It's a perfectly fine book, interesting and important, but it also does not feel like it offers anything new. I found Pine's language straight-forward and bordering on boring, and her ideas not particularly groundbreaking. This feels like a mean way of talking about a book that deals with so many important and heartbreaking things, but as it is, I found one of the later essays ("Something About Me" which wasn't as polished but still felt the most real) by far the stand-out from this collection.
Content warning: infertility, miscarrriage, late still birth, alcoholism, drug abuse, rape, sexual assault
Content warning: infertility, miscarrriage, late still birth, alcoholism, drug abuse, rape, sexual assault
August 8, 2018
I can't do justice to such a finely written book with my comparably basic grasp of English. I adore books like this; it's a raw, honest and insightful look inwards and outwards in the face of life's many knocks. And so beautifully written. Not beautiful as in beautifully crafted florid prose, but beautiful in the truth and feeling conveyed over the course of each essay, each one adding a layer to the previous ones. In some ways, this reminded me of one of my favourites books in the last decade; . I think Notes To Self was extra special for me because I could relate to quite a lot of the touchpoints; I came out the other end of the rave scene in quite a fragile state and spent most of my early twenties struggling with serious mental health issues and then over a very slow period of growth, I miraculously found myself with a Master's degree, a career and a family a decade later, then I ended up looking after a parent with many health issues and family conflict, while we went through the heartache of multiple miscarriages and infertility. So quite a lot of this touched a nerve and was expressed with such stunning craft that I just wanted to open my window upstairs, like some broken adult version of the Never Ending Story and point at Notes to Self shouting THIS! THIS! This is what it's all about.
September 19, 2021
"Son olarak zamanda yolculuk edemediğim için yazıyorum. Uzun zaman boyunca 1990'lara dönmek, itirazlarına ve "iyi" olduğunu söylemesine aldırış etmeden kendi gençliğime, ihtiyaç duyduğu gibi sıkı sıkı sarılmak istiyordum. Çünkü ona ne diyeceğimi biliyorum. Onu kucaklar ve yalnız olduğunu, kendisini kaybolmuş hissettiğini, değersiz hissettiğini bildiğimi söylerdim. Sonra, ona ben olmadığı için ve ben olduğu için bazı özellikleri olduğunu, olağanüstü bir yanı, sevilmeye değer bir yanı, özel bir yanı, güzel bir yanı, hassas bir yanı, güçlü bir yanı, mücadele etmeye değer bir yanı olduğunu söyleyip güven verirdim."
April 29, 2020
An unflinchingly honest collection of essays from Emilie Pine, as she tries to confront the past in order to better understand herself, her relationships and her role in society.
I loved the range of topics covered by Pine within this collection - from the heartbreak of trying to deal with infertility issues, to growing up with a father who had an addiction. The essays are painfully raw at times, especially when she discusses her wild teenage years, during which she became the victim of sexual violence. (Trigger warning)
One essay that I found particularly interesting was the one in which she reflects upon the pressures within the world of academia - the perceived need to run yourself into the ground and become a workaholic in order to get ahead. These pressures are one of the main reasons why I’ve diverted away from a career in academia, so I loved getting her viewpoint on this topic.
Overall, if you’re into personal essays that explore quite vulnerable and often taboo subjects, this is worth checking out! (And Pine narrates the audiobook herself in her beautiful Irish accent!) 3.5 stars.
I loved the range of topics covered by Pine within this collection - from the heartbreak of trying to deal with infertility issues, to growing up with a father who had an addiction. The essays are painfully raw at times, especially when she discusses her wild teenage years, during which she became the victim of sexual violence. (Trigger warning)
One essay that I found particularly interesting was the one in which she reflects upon the pressures within the world of academia - the perceived need to run yourself into the ground and become a workaholic in order to get ahead. These pressures are one of the main reasons why I’ve diverted away from a career in academia, so I loved getting her viewpoint on this topic.
Overall, if you’re into personal essays that explore quite vulnerable and often taboo subjects, this is worth checking out! (And Pine narrates the audiobook herself in her beautiful Irish accent!) 3.5 stars.
January 11, 2022
Mi deseo anticipado por leer este libro era enorme: “Uno de los mejores libros, sino es que el mejor, que leà este año� (2021), me dijo papá en una de nuestras largas conversaciones telefónicas, de esas en las que principalmente hablamos de nuestras lecturas, esos momentos en que nos aislamos del mundo y nos imbuimos de palabras e ideas.
Y estamos hablando de un hombre que “leyó poco ese año� (2021), entre otras cosas por un ataque cerebral isquémico que sufrió en marzo de ese año, “Solo leà 75 libros�, me dijo cuando por fin pude volver a visitarlo en diciembre, meses después de ese acontecimiento que le inmovilizó el lado derecho de su cuerpo parcialmente.
Su cuarto es un espacio donde hay una cama matrimonial, la mitad ocupada por alteros de libros, y en las paredes donde no hay puertas ni ventanas: libreros asestados de pilas de libros. Es en uno de estos últimos, en la repisa inferior, donde va acomodando aquellos que ya leyó, para que cuando vaya yo, pueda echarle un ojo, y elegir cuales quiero leer yo.
A cada libro que tomaba me iba platicando su opinión, a veces cerraba los ojos brevemente y me daba sus impresiones de la lectura, de todos decÃa algo positivoâ€� con sus pocas excepciones.
¿Esta es la Emilie Pine de quien me hablaste? “SÃâ€�, respondió. Y volvió a repetir lo de “mejores libros que leÃâ€�.
El año pasado leà a Isabel Zapata y a Jazmina Barrera, también incluirÃa a Aura GarcÃa-Junco en el mix, y leyendo este de Pine siento que debà leerla también en ese año.
He comenzado a leer a Guerriero, igual, a insistencia de papá: “tienes que leerla�; y me gusta esta literatura, me sigue cansando esa necesidad del mundo editorial, o de los lectores de tener que encasillar a autoras, de tener que etiquetar obras escritas: Pine escribe y yo la leo. Punto.
Habla de ser persona, pero sobre todo, habla de ser mujer en este mundo de ahora; de la mujer que fue de niña, de adolescente, de adulta. De la mujer que no fue. Habla de su experiencia, de sus aprendizajes, de sus decisiones, de cómo ha enfrentado algunas situaciones, de cómo hizo frente a pedazos de su vida, y de cómo los rememora en su edad adulta, en la “medianÃa de su edadâ€�.
Notes to Self (escapa a mi comprensión qué pensaba Random House Mondadori al titularlo en español como “Todo lo que no puedo decir�) es en verdad un libro insondable; no solo un testimonio de una persona, sino la crónica de volverse una, la exploración de la memoria como un ejercicio que devela página a página preguntas y tentativas de respuesta que pueden llevarnos a los lectores a esbozar las nuestras.
A encontrarnos, a reencontrarnos. A buscarnos. A perdernos. A caminar mentalmente por zonas a las que quizá no accedemos con facilidad, ya sea por estar muy profundas en nuestro ser, muy elevadas, o por estar escondidas por resquicios inaccesibles de nuestra mente.
Considero que Notes to Self es el tipo de literatura que nos ofrece más de lo que da por escrito, y “esa� es la literatura que me gusta leer.
Y estamos hablando de un hombre que “leyó poco ese año� (2021), entre otras cosas por un ataque cerebral isquémico que sufrió en marzo de ese año, “Solo leà 75 libros�, me dijo cuando por fin pude volver a visitarlo en diciembre, meses después de ese acontecimiento que le inmovilizó el lado derecho de su cuerpo parcialmente.
Su cuarto es un espacio donde hay una cama matrimonial, la mitad ocupada por alteros de libros, y en las paredes donde no hay puertas ni ventanas: libreros asestados de pilas de libros. Es en uno de estos últimos, en la repisa inferior, donde va acomodando aquellos que ya leyó, para que cuando vaya yo, pueda echarle un ojo, y elegir cuales quiero leer yo.
A cada libro que tomaba me iba platicando su opinión, a veces cerraba los ojos brevemente y me daba sus impresiones de la lectura, de todos decÃa algo positivoâ€� con sus pocas excepciones.
¿Esta es la Emilie Pine de quien me hablaste? “SÃâ€�, respondió. Y volvió a repetir lo de “mejores libros que leÃâ€�.
El año pasado leà a Isabel Zapata y a Jazmina Barrera, también incluirÃa a Aura GarcÃa-Junco en el mix, y leyendo este de Pine siento que debà leerla también en ese año.
He comenzado a leer a Guerriero, igual, a insistencia de papá: “tienes que leerla�; y me gusta esta literatura, me sigue cansando esa necesidad del mundo editorial, o de los lectores de tener que encasillar a autoras, de tener que etiquetar obras escritas: Pine escribe y yo la leo. Punto.
Habla de ser persona, pero sobre todo, habla de ser mujer en este mundo de ahora; de la mujer que fue de niña, de adolescente, de adulta. De la mujer que no fue. Habla de su experiencia, de sus aprendizajes, de sus decisiones, de cómo ha enfrentado algunas situaciones, de cómo hizo frente a pedazos de su vida, y de cómo los rememora en su edad adulta, en la “medianÃa de su edadâ€�.
Notes to Self (escapa a mi comprensión qué pensaba Random House Mondadori al titularlo en español como “Todo lo que no puedo decir�) es en verdad un libro insondable; no solo un testimonio de una persona, sino la crónica de volverse una, la exploración de la memoria como un ejercicio que devela página a página preguntas y tentativas de respuesta que pueden llevarnos a los lectores a esbozar las nuestras.
A encontrarnos, a reencontrarnos. A buscarnos. A perdernos. A caminar mentalmente por zonas a las que quizá no accedemos con facilidad, ya sea por estar muy profundas en nuestro ser, muy elevadas, o por estar escondidas por resquicios inaccesibles de nuestra mente.
Considero que Notes to Self es el tipo de literatura que nos ofrece más de lo que da por escrito, y “esa� es la literatura que me gusta leer.
May 11, 2019
[4.5*]
This is a wonderful and honest collection of essays, mainly on the various difficulties of being a woman but also how it is to be a child of an alcoholic and absent father. It is written in clear, easy to understand prose, so the impact of each essay is in what is being said, not how (this is in no way a bad thing). I would recommend this collection to any human being but I wish it were men in particular who would read this. There are a lot of things here that women share with each other but very rarely share with men, out of shame, fear and the desire to shield men from the second-hand pain which women are experiencing first-hand, because we have been brought up to care more about men's feelings than our own.
The only reason I am not giving this collection a full five-star rating has more to do with me than with the essays themselves. I was fortunate enough to study for my Master's degree in Sweden. The degree itself was not in gender studies but in international development and global politics, yet the focus on gender was rather prominent. And I can tell you that in Sweden they talk about gender much more than where I come from (and probably where you come from, unless you come from the Nordics). And since they talk about gender a lot, the conversation has evolved to the stage where many subjects that are still taboo in other countries are now part of the mainstream conversation. Moreover, my closest friends at the university were much more versed in the issues of gender, which led to conversations I had not even imagined before and for which I will be eternally grateful.
I have since read, thought of and discussed many of the topics that Emilie Pine tackles in this collection, which is why it does not have as much of an impact on me as it would have had even five years ago, which, in itself, is a good thing. Yet for people who do not spend a significant portion of their life contemplating gender issues I believe this collection can make a real difference.
This is a wonderful and honest collection of essays, mainly on the various difficulties of being a woman but also how it is to be a child of an alcoholic and absent father. It is written in clear, easy to understand prose, so the impact of each essay is in what is being said, not how (this is in no way a bad thing). I would recommend this collection to any human being but I wish it were men in particular who would read this. There are a lot of things here that women share with each other but very rarely share with men, out of shame, fear and the desire to shield men from the second-hand pain which women are experiencing first-hand, because we have been brought up to care more about men's feelings than our own.
The only reason I am not giving this collection a full five-star rating has more to do with me than with the essays themselves. I was fortunate enough to study for my Master's degree in Sweden. The degree itself was not in gender studies but in international development and global politics, yet the focus on gender was rather prominent. And I can tell you that in Sweden they talk about gender much more than where I come from (and probably where you come from, unless you come from the Nordics). And since they talk about gender a lot, the conversation has evolved to the stage where many subjects that are still taboo in other countries are now part of the mainstream conversation. Moreover, my closest friends at the university were much more versed in the issues of gender, which led to conversations I had not even imagined before and for which I will be eternally grateful.
I have since read, thought of and discussed many of the topics that Emilie Pine tackles in this collection, which is why it does not have as much of an impact on me as it would have had even five years ago, which, in itself, is a good thing. Yet for people who do not spend a significant portion of their life contemplating gender issues I believe this collection can make a real difference.
June 24, 2020
Thank you to Random House and NetGalley for an e-arc of this title for review.
This is the type of book I LOVE - We are Never Meeting in Real Life, Shrill, You'll Grow Out of It - I am so here for women writing about things we don't often hear discussed. I even shed a tear reading the author's note.
But then the essays...just fell flat for me. We've had some similar experiences, so it should have been easy for me to relate. It wasn't. I'd have DNFed this if I weren't hoping for something positive to be able to include in my review.
Ultimately, the positive is the subject matter: alcoholism, infertility and miscarriage, divorce, menstruation, trauma, burnout. It's the execution that just didn't work for me.
I think the issue isn't quite Pine's writing style, but that I've heard these themes before. For example, "I have a period and I'm going to talk about it" isn't just a sentiment expressed by Abbi Jacobson and Ilana Glazer - Abbi with "first-day flow" and no tampons is the main plot for an entire episode of Broad City. So for this sort of essay to resonate with me, I needed it to offer another perspective, or talk about it in really beautiful and/or powerful prose, or take it further. I didn't feel like it did.
Moreover, I was angered by Pine's suggestion that the loss of one's period might equate to one ceasing to be a woman. This struck me as overly simplistic at best, and transphobic at worst. I can understand if menstruation is central to her identity, and menopause is altering that identity without her asking for it - but maybe also take a broader view of gender in your reflection. She also got sarcastic with regard to women perhaps shaving/waxing pubic hair for themselves - implying that they could only be doing so for others. It's like Pine has this deep self-judgment (which she explicitly notes, with regard to not shaving) but instead of that self-recrimination resulting in greater acceptance of others and whatever they choose to do with their bodies, she judges their motivations.
These opinions are based on one essay, which I think demonstrates how meandering the essays are - first period, squeamish about talking about blood, blood is dirty, periods can be painful, period blood is taboo during sex, not wanting to get pregnant but then wanting to and seeing period blood as a curse, periods are too womanly to discuss, menopause, menstruation as central to gender identity, looking at her body, labiaplasty, self-appraisal, body hair, pubic hair, femininity, giving up one's voice, delaying a breast biopsy, feeling that women are supposed to feel pain and supposed to keep silent about it, talking about bodily pain as a child, arguing we should once again talk about our bodies as physical evidence of what we've done, looking at ourselves fully, and what her body would say. That's all packed into one essay. Rather than feel like she covers the gamut, it feels like most of these topics are given short shrift, and aren't truly investigated or explored.
I respect Pine for confronting painful events in her past and putting them on the page, and I'd try her writing again. But I wouldn't recommend this particular essay collection.
This is the type of book I LOVE - We are Never Meeting in Real Life, Shrill, You'll Grow Out of It - I am so here for women writing about things we don't often hear discussed. I even shed a tear reading the author's note.
But then the essays...just fell flat for me. We've had some similar experiences, so it should have been easy for me to relate. It wasn't. I'd have DNFed this if I weren't hoping for something positive to be able to include in my review.
Ultimately, the positive is the subject matter: alcoholism, infertility and miscarriage, divorce, menstruation, trauma, burnout. It's the execution that just didn't work for me.
I think the issue isn't quite Pine's writing style, but that I've heard these themes before. For example, "I have a period and I'm going to talk about it" isn't just a sentiment expressed by Abbi Jacobson and Ilana Glazer - Abbi with "first-day flow" and no tampons is the main plot for an entire episode of Broad City. So for this sort of essay to resonate with me, I needed it to offer another perspective, or talk about it in really beautiful and/or powerful prose, or take it further. I didn't feel like it did.
Moreover, I was angered by Pine's suggestion that the loss of one's period might equate to one ceasing to be a woman. This struck me as overly simplistic at best, and transphobic at worst. I can understand if menstruation is central to her identity, and menopause is altering that identity without her asking for it - but maybe also take a broader view of gender in your reflection. She also got sarcastic with regard to women perhaps shaving/waxing pubic hair for themselves - implying that they could only be doing so for others. It's like Pine has this deep self-judgment (which she explicitly notes, with regard to not shaving) but instead of that self-recrimination resulting in greater acceptance of others and whatever they choose to do with their bodies, she judges their motivations.
These opinions are based on one essay, which I think demonstrates how meandering the essays are - first period, squeamish about talking about blood, blood is dirty, periods can be painful, period blood is taboo during sex, not wanting to get pregnant but then wanting to and seeing period blood as a curse, periods are too womanly to discuss, menopause, menstruation as central to gender identity, looking at her body, labiaplasty, self-appraisal, body hair, pubic hair, femininity, giving up one's voice, delaying a breast biopsy, feeling that women are supposed to feel pain and supposed to keep silent about it, talking about bodily pain as a child, arguing we should once again talk about our bodies as physical evidence of what we've done, looking at ourselves fully, and what her body would say. That's all packed into one essay. Rather than feel like she covers the gamut, it feels like most of these topics are given short shrift, and aren't truly investigated or explored.
I respect Pine for confronting painful events in her past and putting them on the page, and I'd try her writing again. But I wouldn't recommend this particular essay collection.
June 17, 2020
Ihmettelen vähän, miten tässä näin kävi. Emilie Pinen Tästä on vaikea puhua on rehellinen kirja, mutta se ei ole ihmeellisen rehellinen kirja tai edes ihmeellinen kirja. Se vaan on. Silti annan sille 5 tähteä. Sen rehellisyys on tunnistettavaa, kipeää ja totta, mutta Suomessa naiset ovat kirjoittaneet jo kauan vähintään yhtä rehellisesti (Pirkko Saisio ja Anna-Leena Härkönen tulevat nyt ensimmäisenä mieleen). On kuitenkin niin, että jokainen ääni, joka tuo naisten kokemuksia ja elämää esiin on minulle kuin vettä erämaassa, koska niin kauan olen lukenut maailmaa vain miesten kokemusten kautta, vaikka olen tyttö, tytär, nainen, äiti ja täti ja lisäksi työssäkäyvä nainen ja äiti, mikä tuo tietysti oman lisänsä tähän pakettiin, jota elämäkseni kutsun. Niinpä Pinen rehellisiä esseitä lukiessani samaistuin aika tavalla, vaikka en ole kokenut kaikkia hänen kokemuksiaan. Vaikka näistä asioista on vaikea puhua, niistä täytyy puhua.
September 3, 2021
Çok çok iyi bir kitap. Bir erkeğin ayrıcalıklı konumu yüzünden hayatı boyunca karşılaşmayacağı olumsuz durumları bunlarla kısıtlı bir bağ kurabilen bir erkeği bile dehşete düşürecek şekilde anlatıyor. Türünün önemli olmadığı, sadelikten güç alan taş gibi bir metin. Normalde bu kadar kişisel metinleri sevmem. Bu kadar kişisel ve duygusal metinlerde dilin vıcık vıcık duygusallığa kapılma, anlatının da bir tür acı pornosuna kayma riski var. Ama bu iki unsurun dengesi sağlandığında da ortaya inanılmaz işler çıkıyor. Emilie Pine bu dengeyi kusursuz bir şekilde sağlamış. Kitabında kendi tecrübelerinden yola çıkarak kadın olmanın zorluklarının ülkeden, toplumdan, aileden bağımsız olduğunu gösteriyor. Bu hem iyi hem de kötü bir durum. Kötü yönü malum sorunun büyüklüğü, iyi yönü ise bu dünyada bu sorunlarla mücadele eden tek toplum olmadığımızı görmek. Pine’ın çocuk sahibi olma çabasını anlattığı ikinci bölüm ve regl üzerine yazdıkları favorim. Çevirinin Türkçesi çok iyi. Herkese ısrarla tavsiye ederim. 4.5/5 Bunu beğenenler bunu da beğendi: Talebe � Tara Westover.
January 19, 2019
Phenomenal. There wasn't a weak essay in this debut collection from Irish author Emilie Pine. The subject matter is incredibly personal - her parents' separation, her father's alcoholism, her miscarriage, her own relationship with her body, among others - and each essay is revelatory in some way. I found myself relating closely to some of her experiences, too, and found it refreshing to read another person's writing on things I didn't acknowledge I felt myself (until I saw it written down). I really can't recommend this highly enough.
Thank you Netgalley and Penguin Books UK for the advance copy, which was provided in exchange for an honest review.
Thank you Netgalley and Penguin Books UK for the advance copy, which was provided in exchange for an honest review.
January 4, 2022
"Ich schreibe es, um die Teile von mir zurückzufordern, die ich so lange und so gründlich verleugnet habe. Ich schreibe, um das Schweigen zu durchbrechen, das ich so lange gewahrt habe. Ich schreibe es auf, damit ich mich wenigstens in meinem eigenen Leben gegenwärtig fühlen kann. Ich schreibe es, weil es das Machtvollste ist, zu dem ich mich imstande sehe." - Emilie Pine, "Botschaften an mich selbst"
"Botschaften an mich selbst", übersetzt von Cornelia Röser, ist das schriftstellerische Debüt von Emilie Pine, in dem sie sechs extrem persönliche und berührende Essays mit uns Leser*innen teilt. Sie erzählt von ihrem alkoholkranken Vater und nicht funktionierenden Gesundheitssystemen, von Fehlgeburten, Unfruchtbar- und Kinderlosigkeit, von Trennung, Scheidung und den Auswirkungen der Sprachlosigkeit der Eltern auf ihre Kinder, vom Bluten und dem weiblichen Körper, sexualisierter Gewalt und Gewalt sich selbst gegenüber. Die Autorin geht dabei schonungslos ehrlich vor - und genau das macht dieses Buch aus. Die Linie zwischen dem, was Emilie Pine sich selbst zu sagen hat, ihren intimen, verschriftlichten Gedanken und dem, was sie der Welt mit ihrem Essayband offenbart, ist verschwommen, die Texte schwanken zwischen Tagebucheintrag und Gesprächen mit vertrauten Personen. Mich hat sie auf einer ganz besonderen Ebene getroffen, diese Ehrlichkeit der Autorin sich selbst gegenüber in Kombination mit ihrem wirklich guten Schreibstil.
Für Emilie Pine ist das Schreiben Therapie und Selbstermächtigung zugleich - ihre Offenheit ist ein Geschenk und trotz der Schwere, die in den Themen liegt, steckt der Essayband auch voller Hoffnung, Glück und Humor. "Botschaften an mich selbst" war ein ganz wunderbarer Start in das Lesejahr 2022 für mich - ich werde noch lange an das Buch zurückdenken!
"Botschaften an mich selbst", übersetzt von Cornelia Röser, ist das schriftstellerische Debüt von Emilie Pine, in dem sie sechs extrem persönliche und berührende Essays mit uns Leser*innen teilt. Sie erzählt von ihrem alkoholkranken Vater und nicht funktionierenden Gesundheitssystemen, von Fehlgeburten, Unfruchtbar- und Kinderlosigkeit, von Trennung, Scheidung und den Auswirkungen der Sprachlosigkeit der Eltern auf ihre Kinder, vom Bluten und dem weiblichen Körper, sexualisierter Gewalt und Gewalt sich selbst gegenüber. Die Autorin geht dabei schonungslos ehrlich vor - und genau das macht dieses Buch aus. Die Linie zwischen dem, was Emilie Pine sich selbst zu sagen hat, ihren intimen, verschriftlichten Gedanken und dem, was sie der Welt mit ihrem Essayband offenbart, ist verschwommen, die Texte schwanken zwischen Tagebucheintrag und Gesprächen mit vertrauten Personen. Mich hat sie auf einer ganz besonderen Ebene getroffen, diese Ehrlichkeit der Autorin sich selbst gegenüber in Kombination mit ihrem wirklich guten Schreibstil.
Für Emilie Pine ist das Schreiben Therapie und Selbstermächtigung zugleich - ihre Offenheit ist ein Geschenk und trotz der Schwere, die in den Themen liegt, steckt der Essayband auch voller Hoffnung, Glück und Humor. "Botschaften an mich selbst" war ein ganz wunderbarer Start in das Lesejahr 2022 für mich - ich werde noch lange an das Buch zurückdenken!
July 8, 2018
Absolutely heart breaking. Unflinchingly honest and written so beautifully.
January 24, 2023
Wiedziałam, że teksty Pine będą dobre i mocne, nie wiedziałam tylko, że aż tak.
January 30, 2020
I really didn’t connect with this book at all. It read more like an adolescent diary than essays by an academic and I kept thinking - who commissioned this and why did they believe it worthy of publishing; and also - why has this won awards? Her experiences are not unique, similar stories have been told before and better, and she never seems to make the connection between previous self destructive behaviours (eating disorders, drug & alcohol abuse) and her subsequent fertility problems. Sad to say that any sympathy I felt over her fertility struggles had gone by the time I read about her eating disorders and “wild child� exploits. Boring, self indulgent and ultimately pointless essay collection. Meh
March 18, 2019
Originally released by Ireland’s Tramp Press in 2018, this was named the An Post Irish Book of the Year 2018 and has now been re-released by mainstream publishers. You expect the average collection to contain maybe 10 or 12 essays, so the fact that there are only six here accounts for why they all tend to drag at a certain point. While I think most of them could be made snappier, they remain bold, accessible feminist takes on the body and expectations for women’s lives. I especially liked “Notes on Intemperance,� the first essay, about her alcoholic father’s health crisis and the vanishingly small chance of him getting adequate treatment on Corfu, where he lived. She had to beg his nurses to wear gloves. When she learned that staff had to buy such disposables out of their own small salaries, she understood � but was still appalled. Just being there was a miracle given that there was no love lost between father and daughter. “It is hard to love an addict,� she writes. “Not only practically difficult, in the picking up after them and the handling of those aspects of life they’re not able [to] for themselves, but metaphysically hard. It feels like bashing yourself against a wall, not just your head, but your whole self. It makes your heart hard. � It took years of refusing him empathy before I realised that the only person I was hurting was myself.�
Other essays are on infertility and her sister’s loss of an infant, the early breakdown of their parents� marriage (they never divorced, though: divorce was illegal in Ireland until 1997; after that they just didn’t bother), menstruation and body hair, her wild teen years and being raped, and the constant struggle as a working woman to be ambitious yet vulnerable without coming across as bitchy or oversensitive. The writing style is not flashy, but it doesn’t need to be. This is relatable straight talk, like you might get if you were to sit down with your girlfriends of various backgrounds and experiences and actually discuss things that matter.
Other essays are on infertility and her sister’s loss of an infant, the early breakdown of their parents� marriage (they never divorced, though: divorce was illegal in Ireland until 1997; after that they just didn’t bother), menstruation and body hair, her wild teen years and being raped, and the constant struggle as a working woman to be ambitious yet vulnerable without coming across as bitchy or oversensitive. The writing style is not flashy, but it doesn’t need to be. This is relatable straight talk, like you might get if you were to sit down with your girlfriends of various backgrounds and experiences and actually discuss things that matter.
May 18, 2020
I read this book when it was initially launched and adored it. Feeling somewhat overwhelmed with lockdown and needing a comfort read, I returned to it again today.
This book is intensely raw and vulnerable in a way so few others are, and while these stories are deeply personal to Pine they also reflect the hauntingly universal experience of many women, especially in Ireland.
Through the chaos and heartache this book provides comfort and assurance that life in Ireland has somewhat progressed and the experiences and struggles so many women hold silent are more universal than imagined.
This book is intensely raw and vulnerable in a way so few others are, and while these stories are deeply personal to Pine they also reflect the hauntingly universal experience of many women, especially in Ireland.
Through the chaos and heartache this book provides comfort and assurance that life in Ireland has somewhat progressed and the experiences and struggles so many women hold silent are more universal than imagined.
February 23, 2020
Już dawno się nie zawiodłam tak na książce. Zaczęłam ją czytać ze zbyt dużymi oczekiwaniami i praktycznie pewna, że mnie poruszy i zdzieli po twarzy. Poruszyła minimalnie, po twarzy nie zdzieliła wcale. Tematy poruszane są ciężkie, jednak to jak to jest przedstawione w żaden sposób nie zadziałało tak, jak oczekiwałam. Być może to moja wina, że zanim zaczęłam czytać już byłam nastawiona na konkretne odczucia, niepotrzebnie zasugerowałam się opiniami innych osób - nauczka na następny raz🙃
W skrócie MEH.
W skrócie MEH.
December 9, 2018
This cut me to the quick - so close to the bone. Close to the bone for many people, I would imagine - for those of us with addicted parents, fraught relationships with our bodies, untold stories of teenage vulnerability and exploitation, and complex struggles to find that non-place between success and contentment. The writing's electric. It's sharp and clean as it carves through unstable, messy material; it strives for resolution, order, but it also refuses these things. It's beautiful.
February 15, 2021
Honest, heartfelt and raw essays about some of the most difficult aspects of life—alcoholic parent, infertility, loss. And yet, it has moments of joy and laughter, too. A quick read, totally worth it.
January 26, 2020
Eerlijk. Dapper. Moedig & onsentimenteel.
June 21, 2022
Muhteşem ! Çok yakın bir arkadaşımla sohbet etmek gibiydi diyeceğim ama maalesef çoğu arkadaşımla bile bu kadar açık yüreklilikle konuşmuyoruz. Kendimi gördüm, dostlarımı gördüm , iş arkadaşlarımı gördüm yazılarda ; hepsine okutmak , “bak yalnız değilsin� demek istediğim farklı bölümler oldu ve tabii benim okurken durup uzun uzun nefes alıp düşündüğüm yerler� Tüm kadınlara ve kadınları daha iyi anlamak isteyen erkeklere tavsiye ediyorum .
March 13, 2023
Kitap yazarın kendi hayatı üzerine yazdığı denemelerden oluşuyor. Hepsi çok gerçek ve samimi. Okumaktan çok keyif aldığım bir kitap oldu.
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