The most recommended books about sexual assault

The Fix is tough to read at moments, but so, so necessary. The Me Too movement showed us that just about every female has been subject to assault on some level. Childhood sexual assault is so common that many survivors don't disclose because they don't want to seem weak. Telling someone is the best thing survivors can do for themselves, and The Fix shows that sometimes you can't whisper the truth. Sometimes you have to shout it. 

This feminist take on a werewolf story was the perfect balance of funny and seriously moving, with a good dose of stomach-twisting body horror tossed in occasionally.

I went into this story expecting horror and humor, and while it certainly has both, it was the exploration of ways the world takes woman's agency of their own bodies that really moved me. The main character's transformation into a werewolf serves as a subtle and masterfully crafted metaphor for surviving sexual assault, with an embracing of female rage that was so satisfying to read.

Harrison is a master of feminist horror that is perfectly balanced with humor and outlandish events that are still firmly grounded in our world. I finished the book feeling both empowered and a little nauseated (in the best way).

This anthology is as powerful as it is still necessary: beware. Some pieces may be triggering, but they raised my awareness and empathy. These collected poems from writers across the globe declare one common theme: resistance. By exploring sexual assault and violence in their work, each writer resists the patriarchal systems of power that continue to support a misogynist justice system that supports abusers. In doing so, they reclaim their power and their voice. Resistance underscores the validity of all women’s experiences, and the importance of dignifying such experiences in voice, however that may sound. Because once survivors speak out and disrupt their pain, there is no telling what else they can do.

Hemingway once said that a writer should “convey everything to the reader so that he remembers it not as a story he had read but something that happened to himself.” As a reader, I don’t always need to feel like the story has happened to me, but when a book is written in first-person narrative, I do enjoy feeling like it really happened to the narrator. I love it when the main character sounds authentic and the author fades to the background, making it seem like a memoir. Such a book is Faith, by Jennifer Haigh. Although Faith isn’t categorized as crime-fiction, it involves an Irish Catholic family in Boston in 2002 during the height of the church’s pedophile scandals. As the narrator navigates her family dynamics after her half-brother is accused of sexual assault, she becomes a woman caught between faith and doubt, and she explores this limbo… show more.

I love all of Lynda Barry’s comics, but It’s So Magic! is my favorite collection.

Barry’s adolescent heroines steal wine from parents and from synagogues; they drink the cheap stuff like Boones Farm Apple Wine, and concoctions of mixed hard liquor made from whatever they can find in their houses that give the reader a hangover just thinking about it.

Barry’s graphic narratives also include stories of sexual abuse that are visually overlaid with gross-out drinking humor that will make some laugh and others turn away. Through visual humor, she brings into view both drinking girls and knowledge about sexual assault often hidden from view.

Barry’s alternative lessons remain radical in this politically fraught time when neo-temperance advocates attempt to tie #MeToo to abstinence, once again trying to enforce the idea that girls and women are to blame if they drink too much alcohol.

A rumor about teenage sexual assault has long-term repercussions on a handful of characters in this superb novel that toggles among different genres—thriller, mystery, women’s fiction, coming-of-age literary, even screenplays—with voices in first, second, and third person, a fascinating way of looking at a single event from every angle. The characters are astoundingly well-drawn, in particular the spot-on portraits of teenaged boys, which are a master class on how to write credible, realistic, and true characters that are well beyond the novelist’s own experience. Even the title itself is a clever subversion.

An audaciously experimental novelist, Siri Hustvedt is also a highly respected scholar of neuroscience who is not afraid to bring the philosophy of mind into her fiction. In Memories of the Future, she adroitly employs some revisionist art history as well. And there is a breathtakingly vivid evocation of the sensory lag that occurs with trauma. But what grabbed me first and unrelentingly in this novel is its evocation of a time and place—New York in the 1970s (the then scruffy Upper West Side, to be exact)—and of the social and sexual perplexities it produced for young women. The protagonist negotiates independence and loneliness, courage—and memory—both true and false, and men safe and otherwise. I wish I’d known her then. 

I didn’t read Last Days of Hot Slit in time to include it in my own book about sexual violence. In truth, I could have (barely; it was published just before I finished). But I felt comfortable with my aversion to Dworkin, a crusader against assault who had found common cause with conservative activists. And Dworkin was a self-defeating font of vituperation, wasn’t she? Well, no. She was in fact altogether brilliant. Fateman’s wonderfully lucid, deeply researched introduction and the careful selection she and Scholder made of Dworkin’s surprisingly wide-ranging work, demonstrate the force and courage not just of this radical feminist’s writing, but also of her character. She was dauntless.

Doubling as both a political thriller and political satire, and set on an unnamed, maybe South American island, Idra Novey’s novel about a corrupt senator stars powerful women who are determined to uncover a past sexual assault and possible murder, ultimately speaking truth to power.

Emma O’Donovan is a pretty and popular 18-year-old whose life completely changes after she attends a couple of parties and the following day is found semi-conscious on her doorstep. Unaware of what she has been through the night before, Emma struggles to cope with the public shaming that ensues. This is a brilliant examination of consent, rape culture, and how hard it can be to speak out and seek justice.