This took more brainpower than I'd anticipated, but I really enjoyed it when I could easily follow.
Truthfully, some of it went over my head altogether. I'm 29 and don't know much about classic-anything. Lit, art, nada. So come of the comparisons made just weren't impactful to me for that reason alone.

This is "me" problem, and for that reason I am only reviewing here.

{Thank you bunches to Jamie Hood, Pantheon and NetGalley for the DRC in exchange for my honest review. Sorry it wasn't for me!}

For the past year, I have been receiving complimentary advanced copies of forthcoming books through an online broker, and I have tried to select for classical themes in line with the stated objectives of this blog. It can be difficult to fully ascertain the finer details of some works on the site through the sparse summaries the publishers provide. At the time I asked for a copy, I believed Trauma Plot to be more in line with the content of the introduction; that being, an exploration of sexual violence throughout history, and its relation to the author’s own experiences. When I discovered this was not the case, I briefly considered returning the book un-reviewed, which is always a possibility, but I had enjoyed what I’d read up to that point, and believed it to have enough broader educational merit to continue on. Though this may stick out in regards to content when compared to everything else I’ve posted here, I don’t think it’s too indulgent to discuss the merits of this book this week. If enough of my audience disagrees I’d be willing to follow up later in a few days with another review, but for now these are my thoughts on Trauma Plot by Jamie Hood. Please note that given the topic of sexual violence and rape in the book, this review may not be for everyone. I do my best to avoid going into much detail, but suffice it to say that if those stories are something you don’t want to read about, this won’t be for you anyway.

A line from the summary blurb on the Penguin Random House website refers to this book as interrogative, which I find to be an incredibly apt descriptor. The introduction explains why Hood has a personal interest in exploring sexual assault and rape in the wider western culture, and establishes her credibility to speak on the topic outside her personal experiences. On the other hand, her assessments of historical and mythological accounts maintain a strong sense of academic detachment. The story is told through four narrative perspectives, each from a different point of view that holds the author’s relationship to her as a protagonist in a different light. Beginning with the third person singular (i.e. Hood refers to herself as “she” or “Jamie”) is vitally important in building the images as a personal history rather than a personal account, as in the first person singular of the second chapter. The third chapter is the most creative of the set; most stories written in the second person singular on the market overdo the premise, but the author here presents the days leading up to the events as journal entries written to herself. The final chapter, then, acts as a reflection on her life in meetings with her therapist primarily using the first person plural. All of these lenses interrogate different aspects of her life in different ways, and show that sexual violence of this kind can come from almost anywhere.

All throughout, Jamie Hood makes time to reflect on the other fields where she has found similar traumas represented: art, mythology, a little bit of psychology, and of course literature, from which the author borrows a modern trope in storytelling for the name of this book. Some things I had no frame of reference for were well-explained throughout the story, but I encountered the most trouble with A Little Life, which the author seems to take for granted that the reader has previous familiarity with more than what a quick glance at the Wikipedia page would reveal.

As much as I read and enjoy reading, I tend to stay out of most big literary circles, so the aforementioned discussion around the phenomenon of a “trauma plot” in popular literature was a further barrier to entry than just dealing with sexual assault in general. I’m sure that having a working knowledge of Ovid helped me a little bit, for example, but The Metamorphoses plays a much smaller role in relation to the narrative here. I certainly wouldn’t go so far as to label the book as “pretentious,” partially because that word has fallen into total misuse, but it also doesn’t fit the popular definition because on reflection I might fall outside the target demographic (i.e. not being one of those people into contemporary literature discussions). Is it indulgent, then? No, not that either. Once the initial misunderstanding on the sort of book this was had been cleared up,1 the book was as it presented itself. Hood is clearly well-read, and to dumb things down too much in the explanations would jeopardize the authentic presentation of the way she evidently thinks. That being said, I’m convinced that a little more hand-holding for a wider audience would have gone a long way.

Even with all this high praise on a technical level, I don’t think I can recommend this book to a wider audience. Even putting aside all the graphic details of the sexual violence that may put off a portion of the audience, there is other content I find objectionable. Late last year I decided to move misandry into the column of forms of hate that I would no longer tolerate, and this novel has an absurd amount of misandry in it. The author paints nearly every male figure in her life as a lecherous sleazebag or something to objectify. Most other women fare no better. Part of the issue is that some characterizations come from inner monologue exaggeration and other events get punched up to simplify the reader’s experience with the book, but the narrative still presents itself as an account of real lives and the real people who live them.2 I say this fully knowing how the dynamic of the majority of conscious human history trends towards men doing the same towards women, but even in that context it comes across as petty at best and hypocritical at worst.

Had these stories been presented as fictionalized accounts based on true events, maybe my attitude would be different, but as-is this just puts more discord out into the world. For the record, I’m glad I read it; I’ll still give it one star for the educational merits and interesting perspective it gives to the reader, which shelves it in my mind right next to Georges Bataille. For those who take that as a compliment by all means pick up a copy,3 but otherwise this one might be worth skipping.

Jamie Hood's Trauma Plot is not merely a follow-up to her lauded how to be a good girl; it's a profound excavation of the shadows left by that initial exploration. Where good girl interrogated the structures of femininity, Trauma Plot plunges into the visceral, often unbearable, reality of living within those structures when they shatter.

Hood's writing is a masterclass in controlled intensity. She wields language like a scalpel, dissecting the cultural expectations placed upon survivors with a critical precision that is both unsettling and illuminating. The "verbal gems, treasures, and marvels" Torrey Peters describes are not easily won; they are forged in the crucible of Hood's unflinching confrontation with her own history and the broader cultural narrative of sexual violence.

The book's strength lies in its refusal to offer easy answers or comforting platitudes. It is a "scalding work of personal and literary criticism," as the summary rightly states. Hood deftly weaves together personal narrative, literary analysis, and cultural critique, invoking figures like Philomela, Laura Palmer, and Artemisia Gentileschi to expose the enduring, often punitive, roles assigned to women who have experienced trauma. She challenges the very notion of a "survivor" as a monolithic archetype, demanding that we confront the complexities and contradictions inherent in the experience of living after violence.

The book's exploration of "trauma porn" is particularly potent. Hood doesn't shy away from the uncomfortable reality that our culture often fetishizes suffering while simultaneously demanding that survivors perform a sanitized version of their pain. She exposes the hypocrisy of this demand, revealing how it perpetuates a cycle of silence and shame.

Trauma Plot is a necessary and challenging read. It is a "dirge for the broken promises of #MeToo," a lament for the ways in which our cultural conversations about sexual violence often fail to translate into meaningful change. Yet, it is also, ultimately, a "paean to finding life after death," a testament to the resilience of the human spirit in the face of unimaginable trauma. Hood's voice is unflinching, her gaze unwavering, and her work is a powerful reminder that true healing requires more than just survival; it demands a reckoning. This book is a vital contribution to the ongoing dialogue about trauma, survival, and the power of storytelling.

A fantastic memoir about trauma and coming into your own. Diverse and compelling and totally originial. I couldn't stop reading this once I started.

Wow! Jamie Hood is incredibly brave and the subject of this book was incredibly difficult; could only read bit by bit. She uses the topic of "trauma" (which has felt rather ubiquitous in the last decade) to frame her entire book: what does it mean to be traumatized? can someone be too traumatized? how does society judge those who have been trough traumatic things? Of the four parts, I felt least engaged with "I" but it was still impressively done and quite vulnerable. I think reading this book would make the reader smarter and hopefully more empathetic. The book is immersive and reflective but also asks the reader to to consider themselves.

Wow, I am so grateful to have the privilege to read this book. Jamie Hood opens herself up to the world for an uncomfortable, confrontational, and devastating read. The way Hood weaves through, deconstructs, and reflects on her life and her trauma through different shifting narrative voice is calculated and deft. Her writing, in She/I/You/We perspectives are each distinct and haunting to read. The shifts through perspective help break up parts, while also allowing the reader to immerse themselves in Hood’s life and her trauma. This book is not an easy read, and should not be. Trauma Plot it is laid out in a way that is unique, powerful, and vulnerable - a memorable read.

I’ve been a fan of Jamie’s writing for years now. Her pre-op diary substack post brought tears to my eyes, and I have continually reread her piece on Annie Ernaux published by The Baffler. All’s to say, I had high hopes and expectations which have been exceeded! Months after finishing, I find myself still mulling and thinking about it. The writing is compulsively readable but does deal with difficult subject matter that could definitely be triggering for sexual assault/violence. After finishing part one, I did have to take a break but ended up finishing the last two-thirds all in one sitting. Tears streaming down my face all the while. I have already pre-ordered a copy and look forward to pouring over Jamie’s words again.

This is a really well done trauma memoir, and I have to especially give Ms. Hood credit for how she decides to use POV as her way of tackling what's happened to her. Each section of this tackles different sections of Hood's life in varying POVs as she processes what has happened to her throughout her life, and also casts her eyes at the narrative trope of the rape survivor, both within fiction and in real life. This is one you have to read for yourself, and the reading of it will take a lot out of you emotionally, but it's still a hell of a read.

One of the most striking elements of Trauma Plot is Hood’s ability to portray the internal conflict of the protagonist. The character's emotional journey is one of gradual discovery and painful acceptance, as they attempt to reconcile their present with their past. Hood does not shy away from the raw and uncomfortable aspects of healing, making the novel a challenging yet rewarding experience for readers.

Trauma Plot is an intense, lyrical novel that will resonate with readers who appreciate psychological depth and narrative experimentation. It's a challenging read, but one that rewards those willing to dive into its complex emotional terrain.

When I first started reading this book I recoiled. As Hood points out, we've done so much going over and over the trauma plot. She is, however, incredibly intelligent and sharp and managed to keep me thinking and keep me guessing. I particularly liked the section of her therapy sessions. I felt truly in the room or in her mind with her. This book is incredibly ambitious in its scope and style but I really think this is going to be a classic of women's writing. Really excited to get this on the shelves at my library. THANK YOU for the advance copy. <3

this was an entire experience that everyone should go through. written in four parts, the entire book is easy to follow but hard to digest because of the themes. it's an incredible self analysis and on the general public that asks questions that we've both never and did thought of.

I feel at a loss for words trying to explain my experience with this astounding memoir.

Split in to four parts—four voices: She, I, You, We—Trauma Plot is Hood’s exploration of love, trauma, female existence, and violence against women. Gazing on different pieces of literature as well as her own personal experiences, Hood begs the question: how do survivors of violence, specifically women, exist in a world that has failed them time and time again.

I suppose I could start by saying… Hood can write. I was immediately taken with her storytelling and found myself so drawn to her words even though they were surrounding a topic that nobody ever wants to have to face. The way she plays with the narrative voice is a unique and fascinating approach to memoir that I absolutely relished in.

It is worth mentioning for readers who are triggered by such writing that there are descriptive scenes of sexual violence and many mentions of suicidal ideation in this book but it is not for the sake of trauma porn. Rather, it helps shine a light on the ramifications of rape; the shared experience of victims; and educates on the cultural demands and perceptions placed on those who have experienced sexual trauma.

This is a truly astonishing piece of work. I can't wait for others to read it and love it. Thank you Knopf for the early copy in exchange for an honest review. Available Mar. 25 2025

WOW. okay. i don't want to describe this one too much, mostly because i don't think any words I could write could capture this one, but it is an incredible self analysis. 5 stars. tysm for the arc.

This is a brutal book, though with less of a narrative arc than I would have preferred for classroom use. The author's voice is deeply honest.

Engaging, emotional, and timely. A recommended purchase for collections where memoirs and Hood's previous work is popular.

Jamie Hood weaves an autopsy with poetry. Hood is not dead, nor are her experiences something that can be separated from her life, but the recollections of her rapes and their lasting effects on her brim with anti-life. She dissects the brutality and banality of rape with the language of a poet and the investigative skills of a reporter. The use of her own diaries as a first-person account of what happened gives a wrenching weight to how the events of her life have effected her ability to recall, to be a reliable witness to her own experience, paralleling the scrutiny we give rape survivors. Hood plays with narratives, first, second and third, singular and plural, in a move that would be gimmicky in the hands of a less talented writer. Hood grapples with the events laid out in the book, not to own them, as she outright admits, but to have something tangible so she can let go. This is not a story of overcoming trauma. It is a book that needed to be written, a necessary step in Hood’s journey to heal.

This was so beautifully and personally written. I’m struggling with what to say about it, not because I don’t have much to say, but because I have so much. Jamie Hood writes so honestly about the traumas she’s experienced in her own life and, by virtue, the traumas that so many women face : rape, assault, the casual misogyny that comes along with existing in a society that elects a man like Trump to the presidency. This is a mix of personal writing and literary criticism, with a focus on rape survivors from ancient poetry up to Laura Palmer in Twin Peaks. Hood’s writing feels angry and timely, and also individualistic - grammar and sentence structure choices add to the feeling that this is a personal narrative. I did not enjoy my time with this. It was upsetting and triggering and anger-inducing, but we as a collective should be reading work like this to further connect us to one another and to our individual struggles.