This is the most painfully honest
memoir I have ever read.
Judith Moore tells her story of self-loathing without shame or humor. She tells the story of her parents first. A father that neglected her after the divorce and a psychotic mother that was beautiful. I felt ill when Judith was describing being trapped in her apartment as her mother chased her around with a belt. And yet I didn't hear any ill will from Judith. She brutally laid down the facts like she was trying to shock us. It worked.
The only real emotions expressed in this book were the long, loving descriptions of food that neared pornographic with intense, adoring detail and the extreme self-loathing she near screamed off the page. Judith wrote pages about a single cheeseburger that she ate once but only spent a paragraph on her children.
fat girl spends a lot of time describing her childhood. The terror she lived in with her mother and dealing with being the only fat kid in the class and only spends a couple of pages on her teen years and adulthood. Fat girl ends as abruptly as it starts. With no warnings and no pleasantries. It is harsh and ugly. Some stories are meant to be told. I am not sure if this is one of them or not but it certainly held my attention when it was.
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