A las chicas de todo el mundo. Estoy con vosotras. Luché durante años por vosotras. Nunca dejéis de luchar. Yo os creo. —Chanel Miller
La historia de Chanel Miller cambió el mundo para siempre. En 2016, Brock Turner, de diecinueve años, la violó en el campus de Stanford. Despertó confusa en el hospital, no recordaba nada. Lo que venía ahora era una reconstrucción de los hechos lenta y penosa, la lucha contra las evidentes fisuras en la seguridad de los campus universitarios y uno de los juicios más vergonzosos de la historia de EE.UU., donde Miller tuvo que responder a preguntas como éstas: “¿Qué llevabas puesto? ¿Cuándo bebiste? ¿Vas en serio con tu novio? ¿Eres sexualmente activa con él? ¿Le pondrías los cuernos?”
Un año y medio después de la agresión, Turner fue sentenciado a tan solo seis meses de cárcel. La declaración de Miller en el juicio, que ella misma publicó al día siguiente, fue leída por once millones de personas en cuatro días, y provocó la indignación de un país y la reacción internacional.
Durante todo ese tiempo ella fue Emily Doe, el pseudónimo que suele usarse para proteger el anonimato de las víctimas. Pero cuatro años después decidió reivindicar su historia, y con ella su nombre. Tengo un nombre son unas memorias íntimas y profundamente conmovedoras, que dejan en evidencia a un sistema que se retuerce de cuantas maneras conoce para defender a los agresores sexuales, que falla a las víctimas. Una historia que reclama justicia, sobre todo, pero también el derecho a seguir viviendo.
ENGLISH DESCRIPTION
Universally acclaimed, rapturously reviewed, winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award for autobiography, and an instant New York Times bestseller, Chanel Miller's breathtaking memoir "gives readers the privilege of knowing her not just as Emily Doe, but as Chanel Miller the writer, the artist, the survivor, the fighter" (The Wrap).
She was known to the world as Emily Doe when she stunned millions with a letter. Brock Turner had been sentenced to just six months in county jail after he was found sexually assaulting her on Stanford's campus. Her victim impact statement was posted on BuzzFeed, where it instantly went viral —viewed by eleven million people within four days, it was translated globally and read on the floor of Congress; it inspired changes in California law and the recall of the judge in the case. Thousands wrote to say that she had given them the courage to share their own experiences of assault for the first time.
Now she reclaims her identity to tell her story of trauma, transcendence, and the power of words. It was the perfect case, in many ways--there were eyewitnesses, Turner ran away, physical evidence was immediately secured. But her struggles with isolation and shame during the aftermath and the trial reveal the oppression victims face in even the best-case scenarios. Her story illuminates a culture biased to protect perpetrators, indicts a criminal justice system designed to fail the most vulnerable, and, ultimately, shines with the courage required to move through suffering and live a full and beautiful life.
Know My Name will forever transform the way we think about sexual assault, challenging our beliefs about what is acceptable and speaking truth to the tumultuous reality of healing. It also introduces readers to an extraordinary writer, one whose words have already changed our world. Entwining pain, resilience, and humor, this memoir will stand as a modern classic.
Chosen as a BEST BOOK OF 2019 by The New York Times Book Review, The Washington Post, TIME, Elle, Glamour, Parade, Chicago Tribune, Baltimore Sun, BookRiot
Praise For…
"I opened Know My Name with the intention to bear witness to the story of a survivor. Instead, I found myself falling into the hands of one of the great writers and thinkers of our time. Chanel Miller is a philosopher, a cultural critic, a deep observer, a writer's writer, a true artist. I could not put this phenomenal book down." —Glennon Doyle, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Love Warrior and Untamed
"Know My Name is a gut-punch, and in the end, somehow, also blessedly hopeful." —Washington Post
