Book Review: Fury
They are Caucasian, Latina, and women of color. They are Muslim, Christian, Jewish, and non-religious. They come from such places as Trinidad, Haiti, Bangladesh, and Gary, Indiana. Collectively their work has appeared in The New York Times, The Washington Post, Chicago Tribune, and Vogue. These women are college professors, Fulbright teaching fellows, managing editors, and high school drop-outs. They are mothers, environmentalists, food critics, activists, podcasters, victims of violence, and therapists.
Their essays reflect who they are, detailing life experiences and how the Trump presidency has changed their world. Their voices are as diverse as the authors themselves, each personal and distinct. But collectively, they warn, commiserate, offer hope, and express rage.
The essays are grouped into six themes. In “Our Bodies,” writers explore misogyny and talk about how Trump repeatedly reduces women to their bodies only. In “Catholic Bodies or Notes from the Kavanaugh Hearings,” Mary Catherine Ford writes of her journey to find and trust her voice.
Essays grouped under another theme, “Our Selves," examine the effects of trauma on women, the lingering PTSD, and how Trump's rhetoric triggers the re-opening of wounds. In her poignant essay, “New Normal,” Amy Roost describes her son’s massive stroke and the permanent changes that occur. Roost’s son, a once-promising college student, begins a long and arduous rehabilitation with no guarantee of experiencing “normal” ever again. Roost deftly juxtaposes this new reality with Trump’s presidential campaign: hoping for the best but knowing on a gut level that his election marks the end of normalcy in the U.S. government.
Essays in “Our Families” examine what women can teach their daughters. After the massacre at The Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh’s Squirrel Hill, near the neighborhood where she grew up, Lea Grover writes in “How I’m Teaching My Jewish Daughters About Donald Trump” that she wants to tell her daughters to speak and be seen; that they are the future and the change we all need. Yet, she understands that no one is safe from the hate spewing from the Oval Office. Fear and the collective memory of Anne Frank produce in her the reflexive urge to hold them back and whisper, “Hide and be silent, my loves, and pray that silence will keep you safe.”
Other themes include “Our People,” "Our Work," and "Our Perseverance," the entries in each speaking powerfully to women’s experiences, feelings, and thoughts that result from living and working under a xenophobic president. Muslim author Mahin Ibrahim writes about belonging to a minority and the vigilance necessary to live and work. Of all the communities she encountered, she writes, “It was the homeless, the most marginalized, who were the most welcoming of all.”
In “A Red Diaper Baby Returns to Her Roots,” 74-year-old Erica Manfred urges readers to contemplate the specter of losing the struggles for a clean environment, an end to racism, help for the poor and marginalized, and a woman’s right to choose. “No need to wait for the next generation,” she states. “We are that generation.”
These brave, eloquent, and engaging women have written essays revealing their dreams, fears, and passions. For each essay I’ve cited, there are a dozen more, equally well written and provocative. Each author is captivating and confident in her voice, some telling cautionary tales, others divulging profound insights, and still others laying out plans of action. Together their work makes this recommended collection a glittering mosaic of experiences and thoughtful analysis.