[Review] My Body Keeps Your Secrets single work   review  
Issue Details: First known date: 2022... 2022 [Review] My Body Keeps Your Secrets
The material on this page is available to AustLit subscribers. If you are a subscriber or are from a subscribing organisation, please log in to gain full access. To explore options for subscribing to this unique teaching, research, and publishing resource for Australian culture and storytelling, please contact us or find out more.

AbstractHistoryArchive Description

'Sometimes what hurts us the most is the aftermath, the everyday challenge of living in a body that has been damaged and disrespected and shamed’, Lucia Osborne-Crowley provocatively asserts in the opening chapter of her second non-fiction work, My Body Keeps Your Secrets (26). The recent #Me Too movement has focused on uplifting the voices of survivors of sexual assault and sexual harassment, encouraging them to speak out about their experiences in order to demonstrate the prevalence of rape and the insidious culture of misogyny that male violence is unquestioningly constructed upon. Osborne-Crowley’s work shows the capacity and need for progression beyond attention centred around survivors’ experiences of the moment of rape and sexual harassment, focusing instead on ‘the years and years and years ... that come after the assault’ (25). My Body Keeps Your Secrets gives prominence to survivors’ experiences of exactly that, survival, and how they cope with both the aftermath of violence and abuse, and the impact that growing up in an oppressive society takes on female and non-binary bodies.'  (Introduction) 

Publication Details of Only Known VersionEarliest 2 Known Versions of

  • Appears in:
    y separately published work icon Lilith no. 28 December 2022 25968879 2022 periodical issue 'What is the ‘new normal’? What does it mean to live in the world ‘post-Covid’? These are not new questions; they are questions that have been asked—sometimes hopefully, sometimes in mourning—since 11 March 2020 when the World Health Organization (WHO) declared Covid-19 to be a pandemic. In characterising Covid-19 as a global pandemic WHO Director-General Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus made the following remarks: ‘Pandemic is not a word to use lightly or carelessly. It’s a word that, if misused, can cause unreasonable fear, or unjustifiable acceptance that the fight is over, leading to unnecessary suffering and death’.1 Words, as Ghebreyesus’s statement signals, shape our orientation within the historical event. To use ‘pandemic’ (rather than, say, epidemic or public health emergency) instills particular moods, behaviours, and political, social and cultural responses. Over the past eight months, as this issue has come together, the language around Covid-19 has shifted. We are now ostensibly living in a ‘post-Covid’ world despite case numbers placing pressure on healthcare systems, numbers of fatalities continuing to climb, the emergence of new variants and the social, economic and political impacts of the pandemic being far from over. Compounding this sense of being ‘after’ Covid is the political rhetoric around the pandemic: Australia’s political leadership in 2022 has presented a narrative of Covid-19 that lives ‘in the past tense’.2 In this context, we highlight Ghebreyesus’s words from what seems like a long time ago at the outset of this issue for several reasons. First, because the questions of living in a ‘post-Covid’ world are ongoing, and will continue for many years to come, and historians—particularly feminist historians—must address these questions. Secondly, because the ubiquity of the conversation of what the ‘post-Covid’ world will look like evokes long discussions from scholars about the prefix ‘post-’ in political rhetoric.' (Editorial introduction) 2022 pg. 163 - 165
Last amended 28 Mar 2023 10:43:14
163 - 165 [Review] My Body Keeps Your Secretssmall AustLit logo Lilith
Informit * Subscription service. Check your library.
Review of:
Newspapers:
    Powered by Trove
    X