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just_one_more_paige's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
4.0
I try to be really careful about what I request from NetGalley. First, becasue it is so easy to overdo it and let that get out of control (on this front, I am only marginally successful, as I am fairly far behind on sending feedback there - I'm only human). Also, because those require reading on my Kindle which is just not my favorite. I prefer a physical book. Even as I'm getting into audiobooks, I still like to have the physical copy on hand to reference, if possible. So all that being said, I am not sure what prompted me to request this particular memoir. it isn't one that I had heard of before, so I wasn't eagerly anticipating it. And I had read no reviews of it at all so I had no frame of reference for the writing, etc. But request it, I did. And, though I am clearly a bit behind on my read/review in relation to its pub date, I am really glad to have gotten access to it because it was a great read.
This is a sort of memoir in essays from Métis author Toni Jensen. Throughout the collection(?) she covers topics including her childhood and family, teaching and writing, relationships, motherhood, environmental activism and more, all tied together with an overarching theme of exploring the realities and narratives around violence, and especially gun violence, in the landscape of America historically and today.
First, and very high on the list of things I loved about this memoir, I have to mention the writing. It was just phenomenal. There is poetry in the language of Jensen's prose. And I love the way she uses definitions of words (Webster's mainly, but other options, like Urban Dictionary, when Webster's doesn't have anything), exploring the various meanings of them, their origins, and the connections she makes between those definition and the "real world," the sometimes incongruence-ness of those textbook meanings with off-page realities. It's really, for lack of a more sophisticated descriptor, cool. And it ties the chapters together stylistically, which is really necessary (I felt) since the topical/temporal ties of the essays seemed, at times, sporadic. That could have really bothered me, but I ended up being ok with it since the leaps sort of followed a natural thought-process, the way memories tend to ebb and flow into each other in understandable but not necessarily patterned ways. In summary here, the wordplay is masterful.
In contrast to the gorgeousness of the writing, many of the themes within Jensen's memoir are anything but. In fact, this was often particularly difficult to read, as Jensen delves into violence in her own life, as well as violence in this country (America), in a way that profoundly illustrates how deeply that violence is rooted in our homes and lives. Taking a look in turn at all the parts of herself, as a female (daughter, partner, mother), a Métis woman, an educator, a person living in American, Jensen shows how violence has historically been enacted against all those aspects - in the country at large and against herself individually. It's a striking and uncomfortable exploration, but an incredibly important one. The violence of America against Indigenous populations, against women, "domestically" (in quotations because I loved Jensen's interrogation of why, when violence occurs in the home is the treatment of it/reaction to it changed?), on campuses, and in general, all based in motivations of racism/sexism/stereotypical (fragile) masculinity, has gotten to a point that is essentially too much to comprehend realistically, so we have inured ourselves to the reality of it, lost ourselves in the cycle of "ignorable until it’s tragic and then ignorable again" so that its now just part of the marrow of the country.. Jensen questions that mindset, asking how we got here, and providing some background/context, some insight, some suggestion of change, but, mostly, challenging the reader to come out of the protective mental shell and join her in interrogating why this has to be our reality.
I particularly was interested in the look at the changing rhetoric in the social and political landscape of America from the 1970s to today that radicalized the “every man,” creating the idea of a strong man with a gun to protect what is his, and how that led to mass and buy-in from rural communities who would actually benefit from the exact opposite policies. It's a fascinating recent history that I don't have much baseline knowledge in. Honestly, I am only recently starting to pick up nonfiction at all, so, for me, this discussion of the rise of gun violence in America and the way it centers within wealth/whiteness and the rhetoric that conflated gun ownership with manliness/protection at this level of analysis is new to me. I was, of course, aware of (and agreed with) the clear data and reality that increased access to guns = increased likelihood of gun violence (like, duh), but just have never read much that truly dissects it like this (and I'm sure that even this is a surface-level dissection, really). But the way Jensen wove the data and current events and larger issues into her own personal experiences with and exposure to domestic/interpersonal/state-sponsored/gun violence as a sort of case study in consequences really worked for me as a reader. There is also a partial spotlight on environmental justice, the land, threatened by America (back to that theme of violence), being protected, as always, by Indigenous peoples. It wasn’t as large a piece of the memoir as the reflection on the land being stolen in the first place, and that heritage, but it was there.
Jensen uses exquisite composition to tell the story of violence in America, and her own story of violence. It is challenging, frightening, but necessary and compelling. I appreciated Jensen’s words, her vulnerability, her confrontation of the various narratives that become the dominant ones, the ones we don’t question, and asks us to really consider if this is how it has to be. And it’s powerful.
“See how science newly quantifies what some of us have long known – how historical and cultural trauma is lived in our bodies, is passed down, generation to generation, how it lives in the body.”
“It’s okay, I’ve learned, to love the things that make you, even if they also are the things that unmake you.”
“In our country, the myth of individualism pushes us to ignore structures that create tensions and pressures in individuals, yes, but also in families, in communities. But that’s not how people are made, in isolation, with only some notion of character or goodness to form them.”
“Who is served by our everyday American procedure of rendering general and passive our language about violence?”
“Whether a circumstance is acknowledged openly or formally or whether it’s denied, how a situation becomes one worthy of study, is mainly in how it does or does not intersect with or affect the lives of the wealthy.”
“More often than not, if someone describes a woman to me as difficult, I find that woman to be delightful or unusual or unorthodox. It’s a word most often used to censure women who live unconventional lives.”
“To memorialize correctly, language matters.”
“The taking by force of our land always has been twinned with the taking by force of our bodies.”
“If more wealthy Americans own guns than do those living in poverty, why do we have such difficulty fitting this fact into our collective gun narrative? Because when wealth and whiteness are combined, the narrative shifts most times towards plenty, toward goodness instead of lack or deformity. We’re unwilling to acknowledge abhorrent behavior from an heiress but expect it from a working-class man.”
“What does it mean to try to pass? What does it mean to pass without trying? With this act, how do we measure intent? With this act, this action, how much does intent matter?”
“How much grace is it possible to give to others when you move through the world with more than a small measure of safety – when this is safety you own but have not bought?”
“People who kill other people with guns have to have access to the guns. The more access, the more violence. We have in our country almost entirely unfettered access.”
“When you’re going to be called trouble anyway, your life then becomes your own. There’s liberation and loneliness both in this shift.”
Content Warnings
Graphic: Addiction, Alcoholism, Animal cruelty, Child abuse, Chronic illness, Death, Domestic abuse, Emotional abuse, Gun violence, Physical abuse, Racism, Sexism, Sexual assault, Terminal illness, Toxic relationship, Violence, Police brutality, Grief, Mass/school shootings, and Murder
Moderate: Trafficking and Schizophrenia/Psychosis
sarah984's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
3.0
Essay collections are always hard to rate for me. Some of the essays were brilliant, searing looks at the meaning of violence, but others had clearly been published elsewhere before and didn't fit in as well with the rest of the content. The parts about COVID felt kind of tacked on and strange.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Alcoholism, Child abuse, Domestic abuse, Genocide, Gun violence, Mental illness, Physical abuse, Racism, Police brutality, Medical content, Dementia, Mass/school shootings, Murder, and Pregnancy
Moderate: Addiction, Animal cruelty, Animal death, Trafficking, Stalking, and Schizophrenia/Psychosis
Minor: Drug abuse, Hate crime, Rape, and Suicide
caidyn's review against another edition
dark
emotional
informative
medium-paced
4.0
I've had this book on my radar for a long time, but finally was in the mood to read it. It's a memoir, but more like a series of interconnected essays. Toni Jensen tells her stories, as well as the story of Indigenous people in America and just the world around us. At times, it was a difficult read because of the nature of the stories, but they were all so well written and pertinent to what's going on today and what's gone on since America came to be. Highly recommend it.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Child abuse, Domestic abuse, Gun violence, Physical abuse, Racism, Sexual assault, Xenophobia, and Police brutality
mscalls's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
informative
reflective
tense
medium-paced
5.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Addiction, Alcoholism, Bullying, Child abuse, Death, Domestic abuse, Drug abuse, Drug use, Emotional abuse, Gun violence, Hate crime, Mental illness, Misogyny, Physical abuse, Racial slurs, Racism, Sexism, Sexual assault, Sexual violence, Toxic relationship, Violence, Police brutality, Medical content, Trafficking, Grief, Mass/school shootings, Medical trauma, Stalking, and Murder
Moderate: Adult/minor relationship and Animal cruelty
abbie_'s review against another edition
challenging
emotional
informative
reflective
medium-paced
I know this book was only published in 2020 so it would be odd if it weren't relevant to the here and now, but I genuinely cannot think of a book more suited to our current world. It's focused on the US, but Carry is a book that should be on everyone's radar, regardless of location.
.
This book is a blend of personal essay, memoir, history, the natural world and social justice. From the first essay I was blown away by Jensen's ability to weave together topics which at first may seem unrelated but, once you dig deeper, are linked in nefarious ways. She includes her own personal experiences of racism, domestic and sexual violence she's endured in various settings, including academia and at home, but links them to wider cases and events in history to create a complex and devastating tapestry of America, both past and present.
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Jensen has a way of looking at things that made me question things differently too. Such as, what constitutes a violence? How many close calls, how many brushes with sexual violence does a person have to endure before they make up a whole violence? The experiences we live, whether close calls or not, leave permanent marks on our minds. We carry those experiences throughout our lives, they impact the way we do everyday things.
.
While the sections dealing with sexual assault affected me greatly, they did not (sadly) surprise me. The many sections on gun violence however... Oof. Obviously I know that guns are a thing in America. In the UK we obviously get news from the US concerning mass shootings. But I don't think I fully comprehended before this book, just how much guns form a part of tragic everyday violence in America. And once I did... it's staggering. Jensen holds absolutely no bars when she assesses why gun violence rates are so high in the US - practically unfettered access to firearms. All the research and studies in the world can't change that simple fact.
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She also examines the untouchable combination of wealth and whiteness when it comes to gun violence, not to mention the intense difference with which the media treats white perpetrators compared to Black perpetrators or perpetrators of colour. Gun violence in America includes the white and wealthy more often than the narrative around the problem would have you believe. With white shooters, they're more inclined to follow the guidelines of not splashing their faces or even names across the news, to not inspire copycat killings and show respect for the victims and their families. But if the shooters aren't white? It's almost guaranteed their faces will be right there, splashed across the news to further fuel the racist agenda.
.
One thing (among many) I love about this book is how Jensen will always mention which Indigenous peoples owned the land before it was stolen from them whenever she mentions a new place. Jensen is Métis, and is 100% dedicated to reminding us that the 'Vanishing Indian Myth' is in fact just that. A myth. Her examination of the way American history has sanitised the slaughters of Indigenous folks across the country is eerily accurate to what we're living through right now. With media outlets refusing to call the terrorists who stormed the Capitol for what they are, America (and the rest of the world) is literally watching history being altered, being made more comfortable for the white gaze. Jensen hammers home how much language matters. They weren't 'battles', they were massacres of Indigenous peoples.
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Jensen also continually refers to 'This, our America' throughout the book. I can imagine she was not at all surprised by the events at the Capitol, as no one should be, since it fits perfectly the narrative of America so far - the true narrative, not the comfortable sanitised one. She states at one point that Americans (but again, people all over the world) doing the bare minimum and believing themselves to be part of the solution are in fact the problem. And that is something we all need to internalise.
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One last thing, the title of this book 'Carry' is probably the most perfect title I've ever come across. Throughout the book, Jensen quantifies and defines terms according the many definitions of Webster's. I loved this aspect, and if you were to look up the definitions for 'carry', you would find this book summed up.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Alcoholism, Animal cruelty, Child abuse, Domestic abuse, Gun violence, Trafficking, and Mass/school shootings
cristy's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
sad
medium-paced
4.5
A plethora of content warnings here. J speaks in depth about not only her personal trauma, but of our collective trauma; her people, her family, and our country as it stands today. The text moves around as she does, including to University of Central Florida and Orlando itself. The Pulse shooting is specifically addressed.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Animal cruelty, Animal death, Child abuse, Emotional abuse, Gun violence, Physical abuse, Rape, Suicide, Police brutality, Dementia, and Mass/school shootings
Moderate: Medical trauma
Minor: Alcoholism, Death, Drug abuse, and Grief
autumn_alwaysreadingseason's review against another edition
informative
reflective
4.0
Toni Jensen's Carry is a memoir in essays about her experience as a Métis woman, with a particular focus on how gun violence has become rampant and touches numerous lives. It's also about identity, trauma, being a writer, etc.
Guns are woven throughout, from her father's own possession, to encounters she's personally had, to other people she's known who have been affected by them. For example, she writes of the Pulse night club shooting in Orlando, a place that she used to live and which her students would frequent. Her life is almost presented as a web, a twisted game of "three degrees from..." as she relates herself to these events.
Guns are woven throughout, from her father's own possession, to encounters she's personally had, to other people she's known who have been affected by them. For example, she writes of the Pulse night club shooting in Orlando, a place that she used to live and which her students would frequent. Her life is almost presented as a web, a twisted game of "three degrees from..." as she relates herself to these events.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Gun violence
thebookteaseblog's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
medium-paced
This memoir in essays reminded me so much of another favorite: I am, I am, I am by Maggie O'Farrell. Both are stunningly, poetically written, with a focus on extraordinary and everyday brushes with death. Jensen is a born storyteller, someone whose curiosity about language and the effects of words comes through clearly in her writing. I fell head over heels for her narrative style from the first page. It feels overly simplistic to describe Carry as a book about violence - it is about that, it's true, but Carry is also about family, and place, and survival. It puts what's happening in (to use Jensen's refrain, our America) in a larger context. In her essays, she reminds us that as long as this country chooses to view gun violence as a problem that cannot be solved, as something that just is, that the violence against Black and Indigenous people, the violence against women and children, the countless almosts, the too-many-to-name violent acts that are carried out every day will continue. She reminds us that we cannot untangle the threads of the violence against animals and the violence against women, the violence of the past and the violence of the present, the everyday violence and the headline making violence, the violence of the individual and the violence of the government, because it is all connected. I hope that one day people will look back on stories like those in Carry and they will seem unrecognizable. In the meantime, they are an anthem, a warning, a question.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Alcoholism, Animal cruelty, Domestic abuse, Drug abuse, Gun violence, Sexual assault, Violence, Xenophobia, and Trafficking
deedireads's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
5.0
All my reviews live at https://deedispeaking.com/reads/.
TL;DR REVIEW:
Carry is one of those memoirs that just stands so far out from all the others. The writing is fierce, poetic, and self-assured. Read it.
For you if: You liked Carmen Maria Machado’s In the Dream House.
FULL REVIEW:
Carry: A Memoir of Survival on Stolen Land absolutely blew me away. Toni Jensen’s prose sings and cuts, drawing you in and rooting you to the spot until it’s finished.
Jensen masterfully weaves together two defining focuses of her life: her Native identity, and the recurring presence of guns and gun violence — be it in her fraught childhood home, on any of the various campuses where she’s taught, or in the neighborhoods where she’s lived. Somehow, she never loses the examination on either one of those things, even though they are not always related to one another. She also broadens out to examine the impact of racism against Native people, violence against women, classism, and more.
It’s heavy, but it rings with humanity. It’s honest, it’s sad, it’s hopeful, it’s important. I cried, I shook, I laughed. I’m still in awe.
This won’t be for everyone, in that it’s an untraditional memoir — but in the best way, I thought. It’s written in essays rather than a narrative arc, jumps around in time, and rings with metaphorical, poetic prose. The best comparison I can draw is In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado. If you liked that one, I think you’ll like this one. Jensen’s skill with words is incredible.
TRIGGER WARNINGS:
Child abuse (physical); Child abuse (sexual); Animal abuse; Gun threats and violence; Pregnancy, breech/emergency C-section birth
TL;DR REVIEW:
Carry is one of those memoirs that just stands so far out from all the others. The writing is fierce, poetic, and self-assured. Read it.
For you if: You liked Carmen Maria Machado’s In the Dream House.
FULL REVIEW:
Carry: A Memoir of Survival on Stolen Land absolutely blew me away. Toni Jensen’s prose sings and cuts, drawing you in and rooting you to the spot until it’s finished.
Jensen masterfully weaves together two defining focuses of her life: her Native identity, and the recurring presence of guns and gun violence — be it in her fraught childhood home, on any of the various campuses where she’s taught, or in the neighborhoods where she’s lived. Somehow, she never loses the examination on either one of those things, even though they are not always related to one another. She also broadens out to examine the impact of racism against Native people, violence against women, classism, and more.
It’s heavy, but it rings with humanity. It’s honest, it’s sad, it’s hopeful, it’s important. I cried, I shook, I laughed. I’m still in awe.
This won’t be for everyone, in that it’s an untraditional memoir — but in the best way, I thought. It’s written in essays rather than a narrative arc, jumps around in time, and rings with metaphorical, poetic prose. The best comparison I can draw is In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado. If you liked that one, I think you’ll like this one. Jensen’s skill with words is incredible.
TRIGGER WARNINGS:
Child abuse (physical); Child abuse (sexual); Animal abuse; Gun threats and violence; Pregnancy, breech/emergency C-section birth
Content Warnings
Graphic: Gun violence
Moderate: Animal cruelty and Child abuse
Minor: Pedophilia
lela's review against another edition
challenging
dark
informative
reflective
tense
medium-paced
4.5
Content Warnings
Graphic: Animal cruelty, Gun violence, and Violence
Moderate: Dementia and Trafficking