Somebody’s Daughter by Ashley C. Ford
Review of Somebody’s Daughter by Ashley C. Ford
“I’ve heard people describe panic as something that rises up inside them. For me, panic radiates in the threads of my muscles, bangs in the back of my skull, twists my stomach, and sets my skin on fire. It doesn’t rise or fall. It spreads.”
Somebody’s Daughter by Ashley C. Ford (2021). Published by Flatiron Books.
My first experience with Ashley C. Ford, ironically, is not through her writing. It’s through her apartment. There was this time when I was interning at Fashion Snoops in their home and interiors department and I was absolutely fascinated with the way that people chose to inhabit the space they claim as their own and so, one day, I was going through Apartment Therapy home tours on YouTube and stumbled upon Ashley C. Ford’s apartment tour. I had no idea she was a writer or even who she was until I started watching the video, and I absolutely loved her apartment. You can tell the nerdy aesthetic she’s got going on based on what she has in her space, which I absolutely adored and loved.
And so when Somebody’s Daughter came out and made a big splash in the memoir world, I knew that inevitably I was going to have to read it. Everyone was talking about this book, it was on all these best books lists for the year, and it seemed like it was being crammed down my throat. I had no idea about Ashley’s personal life outside of her apartment, I knew her and the white guy in the video were married, but wow I had zero expectations about what this what about (I didn’t read the blurb, I’m dumb) and was pretty amazed at what I was reading.
Onwards with the review!
Content
My first warning about this book is that if you have unresolved family trauma or issues, then this is not the book for you. Ashley’s father is in jail for raping two women, which is a pivotal part of this memoir (their lack of a relationship, not his offense), and her mother and her clash often, leading to physical and verbal abuse. If you can’t handle scenes that go into it, then this memoir may be too triggering. However, a core part of the story is her relationship with her mother and how Ashley carved a path out of a destitute life, especially after her rape—which is also described here. Her middle school boyfriend refused to allow her to break up with him, so he raped her with a friend watching, and continued to stalk her throughout their high school years. What a gem. You suck Bradley.
We explore a lot of social class and racial issues in this memoir. Their family grew up poor, especially after her father was incarcerated, and so we get a glimpse into poor Black life in the Midwest. She idolized her father before knowing what he had done; she only discovered it after she herself had been raped. We begin the book in the present, with Ashley describing about how her and her mother cannot live in the same house together. Then we are sucked into the past, one ripe with physical abuse, anxiety and panic attacks, and one where she must slowly learn to love herself. Which is a gradual, amazing experience to live with on the page. I didn’t put this book done and went all the way through in one shot.
There’s also the lighter moments of joy. We see how when she has sex for the first time in a way where both parties consent, she feels like there’s a proper way to do things for the first time, that one can love another human being properly. There’s not a lot of depictions of love in her life, because of the way she grew up and with her mother having a string of relationships with men who also don’t treat her properly. Ashley doubted at first why her mother always said not to trust men, that they’re going to hurt you, and still continued to see Bradley even after her mother disapproved. And she paid the consequence for being too trusting—that’s a theme reiterated throughout this. Being too trusting and then paying the consequence.
Anyways, back to the lighter moments—her grandparents are included in these too. She fondly remembers being on her grandparent’s farm instead of living with her mother, feeling like a normal kid. We get all these lush descriptions about how her grandmother is a fashionista even up to the end. I absolutely vibed with Granny and how Ashley would steal like a funky cardigan from her closet. Love that for her.
However, I do think the relationship between her and her father is played up for the marketing. Most of this book is overshadowed by the trauma of his incarceration, and one could argue a lot of this happened due to the lack of a proper father figure, but we don’t actually see a lot of her father in this memoir. We see his release from jail, after him being in there almost her entire life so far, but then we get these small interactions between them that don’t amount to much. I wanted to see her grapple more with the impacts of her fatherless childhood and how his crime connected to her own life—because there’s an obvious horrifying connection here.
This is a really complex memoir, one that you need to sit back and think about after reading it. I did so, but then I felt like I was missing something from the book itself. The writing is absolutely fluid and stunning, but something about the way the story was framed (perhaps she needed more reflection?) just wasn’t hitting right with me. Maybe I’ll come back to this when it hits me what is missing, but for now I can’t place my finger on it.
Overall Thoughts
It’s a good memoir, very well-written. Do I think the marketing is misleading? Yes, it’s more about Ashley’s and her mother’s relationship while the father just has a long shadow cast over all of these events. Like I mentioned before, quite a bit of potentially triggering material so if you can handle it I say go ahead. Was it worth all the hype? Honestly, I’m not sure. If this wasn’t Ashley C. Ford, someone who is already well-known and well-loved in media, I don’t think it would’ve gotten the attention it got. But, at the end of the day, if any of this sounds interesting to you, I recommend picking it up at your library first before committing to a personal copy. I’m glad I got it at the library because I don’t think I’ll honestly be rereading this or wanting to commit to a physical hardcover.
Find the book here on Goodreads.
