Empty: A Memoir

This is a serviceably written book about the author's eating problems, both with under- and overeating. It flows smoothly and is at times pleasurably granular in its depiction of the writer's formative years. As the pages unspool, however, it gets bogged down in its own attention to detail (how many guys she kisses in high school, how many beers she chugs, how many unpleasant encounters she has with her mother, how many teachers call her brilliant). But the problem is not only a lack of propulsion. The larger problem is the narrator's solipsism regarding her own privilege. Simply put, her bemoaning of the toll it took (and continues to take) on her to keep her grip on that most highly valorized status of contemporary white American womanhood--thinness--is unseemly. This is the kind of book that sounds like it grew out of a "Vogue" essay, of the genre "It really triggers my OCD to run a house in South Hampton AND an apartment in the city!" While I know this sounds dismissive, and her whole point is that she has a bona fide psychiatric disorder, consider what the book leaves out: the depth of her fat phobia, and the ways in which she has reaped the fruits of her successful aspiration to avoid the stigma of fatness. There is ample literature on the impact of lookism and the prevalence of negative stereotypes about fat people in our culture. Imagine a book where the protagonist spent hundreds of pages writing about how intolerably anxious and distraught they felt when they did something that made them appear, say, Jewish, or dark-skinned, and how the quest to avoid this spiraled to the point where it became a pathology that takes over their lives. It is not enough to write, as the author does, that she can't help her aversion to fatness and her bottomless craving for thinness. I disagree, although I can certainly understand and sympathize with the fact as a woman in urban, upper-middle-class white American circles, it is terrifying to contemplate inhabiting what some writers have called the "degraded identity" of fatness, with all of the challenges that go along with it. But it is precisely her inability to acknowledge this central driver of her behavior, this failure of both her own curiosity and, yes, her moral courage, that limits the book's interest and psychological depth. The issue of interest is not her binge-eating or restricting per se. It is the underlying psychology, her cruelty towards herself, her perfectionism, her competitiveness, and her terror of being shamed or humiliated. There is one great moment in the beginning of the book where she gives us a glimpse of the side of her that is so full of rage, in an image of herself torturing her body like she is her own kidnap victim. Sadly, the book fails to live up to the promise of that flash of insight.

It was a breath of fresh air to actually to read a memoir where the author doesn't predictably end the book with talking with authority and superiority about how she is "fixed" and how her life is great now and she is completely cured. While I am sure this is the case for some of those people who write such books, it never seems genuine. It was refreshing to read a book where the author admits that, although she has healed considerably from her "lowest" point, she still has her struggles and admits to not having all the answers. No one does, and when you read books where the ending is tied up in a Lifetime movie-esque ending, it can make the reader feel ashamed and abnormal (otherwise I would take myself to the self-help section) and it can make people feel discouraged and alienated if they aren't "cured"- especially if they are as old or older than the now "transformed" author. I don't have an eating disorder, but I have suffered from other addictions and from very low self esteem and I know how it is to live a double life. I am happy she was brave enough to admit to all of this without sounding cocky. She deserves happiness and I am happy that she painted a hopeful (but realistic) ending. No Demi Lovato cookie cutter stories here.

I loved this memoir. I admired not just Burton’s beautiful writing but also her extremely raw honesty. She leaves very little of herself protected here: This book is her “renunciation of empty.” She knows she’ll write things that she’ll end up finding imperfect, but this is why she must tell her story anyway — to confront the fact that she will never be perfect. This book riveted me and made me hungry for all the right reasons. I fixed myself a delicious treat each night I read it —not because Burton is explaining how she’s “all better now,” but rather because her fearless candor inspired me to enjoy and embody my own aliveness, to keep myself nourished so that I might also live to help others dismantle shame.

Susan Burton either has an uncanny memory or a knack for inventing realistic details. I ripped through her book and derived much strength and insight into my own troubled relationship with food. Thank you Ms Burton!

If you suffer from binge eating disorder, this book will speak to you. It's brilliantly written, but overall it just made me feel worse about myself because she somehow looks like a model even though she's battled with food her whole life. Her issues with binge eating really resonated--could be a trigger for some.

Susan Burton tells the story of how she kept her disordered eating a secret from her friends and family even as her behaviors around food brought her misery. Through high school, college, and into adult life, others sometimes noticed her weight losses or weight gains (depending on how her disorder was being expressed at a given time), but no one was fully aware of how her need to "fix" her eating consumed her thoughts. Though she was a highly capable student and professional, her compulsions were never far away. To me, one achievement of this book is to show the fallacy that "will power" is enough to get one over the ravages of a compulsion. Also of value is the reminder of how damaging our culture's emphasis on having "perfect" looks can be, especially when "self-image" becomes tied to dysfunctional eating.

I am purchasing this for my Mom after reading it on audible. I found this book interesting as it covers the perspective not just of the addiction of anorexia but of the rarely talked about binge eating as well. It brings you to the stream that shows you how a young girl develops this terrible disorder and carries it into womenhood and the struggle to acknowledge and break it. It is a vivid description of the emotions and behaviours small and large that people struggling with eating disorders feel and act out. It does not hide from the brutal truths of it. Hope my Mom likes it.

Me gustó porque es demasiado personal y es un diario adolescente bien escrito, con reflexiones y ciertos insights bastante interesantes, no es nada científico, quizás aunque parece repetitivo se que el trastorno es así de intenso y dramático. Me hizo sentido que lo escribieras, gracias.

I really enjoyed Susan's writing style. She really seems to be in tune with her past and how it all contributed to her struggles. So many ED stories are about teen girls and the issue is solved by the time they reach adulthood.The book really drove home the message that the ED mind stays with you, even if the behaviours are no longer a problem. Brave and raw.

This memoir may have been necessary for Ms. Burton to write but it's offensive that Random House decided to publish it. They must hope that the public is very shallow indeed. There are memoirs by people who've had interesting lives, gone through difficult times, accomplished important things. Ms. Burton was an indulged, privileged child from a well-off, white American family. She had some fancy problems that the whole world doesn't need to hear about.