"An intricately constructed and emotionally devastating book about the appearance and disappearance of love." --Jenny Offill, author of Dept. of Speculation
In her dazzling Abandon Me, Febos captures the intense bonds of love and the need for connection--with family, lovers, and oneself. First, her birth father, who left her with only an inheritance of addiction and Native American blood, its meaning a mystery. As Febos tentatively reconnects, she sees how both these lineages manifest in her own life, marked by compulsion and an instinct for self-erasure. Meanwhile, she remains closely tied to the sea captain who raised her, his parenting ardent but intermittent as his work took him away for months at a time. Woven throughout is the hypnotic story of an all-consuming, long-distance love affair with a woman, marked equally by worship and withdrawal. In visceral, erotic prose, Febos captures their mutual abandonment to passion and obsession--and the terror and exhilaration of losing herself in another.
At once a fearlessly vulnerable memoir and an incisive investigation of art, love, and identity, Abandon Me draws on childhood stories, religion, psychology, mythology, popular culture, and the intimacies of one writer's life to reveal intellectual and emotional truths that feel startlingly universal.
Melissa Febos is the national bestselling author of five books, including Whip Smart, Abandon Me, Girlhood—which won the National Book Critics Circle Award in Criticism, and Body Work: The Radical Power of Personal Narrative. Her memoir, The Dry Season, is forthcoming on June 3, 2025 from Alfred A. Knopf. Her awards and fellowships include those from the Guggenheim Foundation, LAMBDA Literary, the National Endowment for the Arts, Lower Manhattan Cultural Council, The British Library, The Black Mountain Institute, MacDowell, the Bogliasco Foundation, The Barbara Deming Foundation, Vermont Studio Center, Virginia Center for Creative Arts, The American Library in Paris, and others. Her work has appeared in The Paris Review, The New Yorker, The Sun, The New York Times Magazine, The Best American Essays, Vogue, and New York Review of Books. Febos is a full professor at the University of Iowa and lives in Iowa City with her wife, the poet Donika Kelly.
-I wanted to see if it would get any better (it didn’t).
-It had tons of gushy reviews at the beginning of the book (I don’t get it).
-The language was sometimes seductive.
So let’s go with the positive here. Yes, the language is amazing--lyrical and intense. Some of the time, in fact, I was just mesmerized. Febos speaks frankly of longing, jealousy, and trust, which pulled me in. And she has some interesting insights, though honestly, I don’t think I could appreciate them because a lot of the time I was annoyed. CUT.
Uh oh, this is one of THOSE reviews--where I’ve finished the book and feel all huffy. Complaint City is about to open its gates. Then I open the book again to check out a quote, and damn! Beauteous language and keen insights stare me in the face and draw me in. So why did I start out bashing this book?
Okay, true confession (man, you’re probably considering me totally unreliable now!): My book buddy hated this book. This is just all wrong--we usually have the exact same reaction to a book. So I kept trying to hate it; I wanted to be like her. Meanwhile, she was doing the same thing--trying to like it, trying to be like me. This led to some funny discussions where we struggled to agree (didn’t happen) and we ended up laughing hysterically. Since we aren’t in seventh grade, we finally realized that it’s okay, we don’t have to try to see the book through each other’s eyes—because it just doesn’t work that way. Taste is a weird bird.
So now that I have that confession over with, off I go to the Complaint Board. My biggest complaint is that Febos would pour out her heart in one paragraph, and then start a factual discussion in the next. Literature, history, Jungian psychology, myths, philosophy, religion, facts about Indian tribes—she threw it all in. The facts diluted the emotion and almost became comical.
Here’s an example of sequential paragraphs:
“Black hair wet against her forehead, she smiled at me, touched my face with her hot hand.
The Catholic monks of Opus Dei, like their thirteenth-century predecessors, practice self-flagellation in prayer. In India, Pakistan, Iraq, and Iran, some Shiites march in parades, practicing their versions—zanjeer zani and tatbir. . . . ”
What???? Foreign words I’ll never remember, religious history I couldn’t care less about. What happened to the intimate moment she was just describing? And that pedantic paragraph went on and on. It drove me crazy! Febos does eventually get back to making it relate to her story, but it’s a long road back. Once she even had a footnote. Seriously, footnotes do not belong in a memoir.
The book reminded me of Solnit’s The Faraway Nearby, but Solnit gets away with the digressions a little better. I think that’s because Solnit’s work was advertised as a book of essays, with some memoir thrown in, whereas here, Febos’s work is called a memoir, so the grad-school lectures are more annoying. I did complain about this in Faraway Nearby, so I’m an equal-opportunity complainer.
But I think I misspoke when I said earlier that Febos was pouring her heart out, because a lot of the time she sounded stilted and detached, which doesn’t go with heart pouring. When she did write with emotion, it often seemed melodramatic, like she was going for effect. The word pretentious comes to mind. Yes, there were times I was impressed by her honesty, but that was overshadowed by the lectures.
The academic detours had the effect of taking me out of her story, which made it harder to understand her or empathize with her. Perhaps she included them as a way to distance herself from emotion, which is anti-memoir in my opinion.
Note that reviewers actually liked this style. One reviewer said this:
“Febos exposes the complications of identity, addiction, obsession, jealousy, forgiveness, trust, and abandonment—weaving into each scenario mythological, psychological, and literal interpretations.”
And another said this:
“But the truly special moments are when Febos is exploring her relationship with her father(s) or ruminating on favorite books, the beauty and nuance of language, philosophy, native culture, and the meaning of home.”
If combining emotional confessions with academic lectures appeals to you, you might very well find this a good read, because the language is indeed good. You can tell that Febos is one smart cookie. Based on the pre-release reviews, I predict I’ll be in the minority here. I wouldn’t be surprised if this one doesn’t become big-time popular.
I wasn’t crazy about the choices Febos made, and I didn’t understand where she was coming from all the time. Although it’s the book and not her life that I’m reviewing, these factors kept me from getting into her story more.
As I said in my initial short review, I’m going to stick to what I know is true: Stay away from memoirs by unknowns. Her seductive language is the only thing that kept this from 2-star-land.
Just the title of Melissa Febos memoir...left me with questions. I understood the subject: ABANDONMENT.....but "Abandon Me".... depending on how it's said -and framed can have different meanings. I can't remember-specifically reading a book about the affects of abandonment- yet my father died when I was 4 and my mother often left me home alone at night starting at the of 5 -- so I was very interested in Melissa's memoir in which she include stories about her childhood. As I read through the stories I noticed a pattern -- Melissa craved comfort. The things that pained her couldn't be soothed by speaking. Rage about being rejected was turned inward. As abandonment progressed , it burrowed deep within where it silently was eating away at her self-esteem.
Desires to consume grew.... to fill her emptiness. Lust was a desire. Chronic insecurity became the scourge of her human relationships. Fear became a barrier at attempts to find love. And like many abandoned people-- Melissa defended bruises by a lover: it was a feeling of being owned. Melissa said: "As much as we like to own, we also like to be owned in love. Or at least to belong to someone. I am a feminist, and the desire to be possessed is one I have been reluctant to admit".
Melissa's writing is real- raw - emotional. Books were of tremendous value to her growing up. The Captain, who raised her, ( Melissa's first father left), gave her treasures rather than religion....and he gave her stories.
We learn quite a lot about Melissa's life... 'everything... from drugs. Sex, changes in her appearance, i.e. Clothes, hair color, music, her family, ( her brother's bipolar disorder), the secrecy and self absorption and greedy need Melissa had to protect only herself... and the addiction than ran through her family.
It's got to take so much courage to write a book like this.... because even if Melissa has achieved more emotional balance and inner peace today-- which God Bless her - I hope she has -- and it sounds like she has --to write about old pains -old memories... she would have to feel them again to have manifested emotional integrity such as she did. Melissa created meaning from some crazy chaotic situations.
Thank You Bloomsbury, NetGalley, and Melissa Febos,
I dislike writing negative reviews, in particular for memoirs, because I know firsthand how much vulnerability goes into this brave, brutal genre. And I appreciated Melissa Febos's vulnerability in Abandon Me, as she describes lust, love, loss, and a gamut of other emotions in a raw and honest way throughout the book. Her essay "Labyrinths" slayed me with its intricate discussion of family, mental illness, and the importance of saving oneself.
However, I did not appreciate the glorification of the unhealthy and toxic romantic relationship in Abandon Me. Though some may use words like "passionate" or "exhilarating" to describe the romance that pervades this book, I would characterize it as emotional abuse (for further reading, check out this short piece by Cheryl Strayed on the same topic.) For the entire duration of this book, I waited for Febos to describe how she broke free from this abusive dynamic, or at least for her to indicate an awareness that this type of behavior should not be normalized. However, she ends her book by writing "every lover is a destroyer... I had to be destroyed to become something else." As someone who has experienced both unhealthy and healthy relationships, I would argue that, actually, a lot of loving relationships heal instead of destroy, and you do not have to necessarily be destroyed to find yourself.
Overall, I wish I had liked this one more, but the imprecise language and the lack of structure, coherency, and greater unifying message tired me out. I do wish Febos the best and I hope that readers who enjoy this book take away the message they should try to prevent or seek help for the more abusive behaviors present within its pages. For those who want intense, intelligent, and compassionate personal essays or memoirs, I would recommend Appetites by Caroline Knapp, as well as The Empathy Exams by Leslie Jamison, just to name a couple.
The book covers disparate themes, but all comes back to the subject of belonging. Does the dangerous thing of letting me close the book feeling like I know her. That's never true, but it does signify a strength in her writing that makes you feel fully let in. For fans of Maggie Nelson.
How do I know a book deserves an automatic five-star rating? When I have eight pages of quotes in my journal. EIGHT.
I could have copied this whole book down and still needed to go back and copy it all again. Melissa Febos’ prose is FLAWLESS. God. It’s so beautiful that I can not find a single thing to criticize.
It is also DRIPPING with sex.
In fact, most of the negative reviews on Goodreads say something like “Why does this book have to be so sexual?” Um, guys, you picked a book by dominatrix…did you expect something G rated?
This isn’t so much about her time as a sex worker–that’s another book–but about every other loaded section of her life. As she puts it:
“I am Puerto Rican, but not really. Indian, but not really. Gay, but not really. Adopted, but not really.”
The memoir’s story follows her abusive relationship with a married woman and her constant struggle to escape it. She details her addiction to self-harm, then alcohol, then drugs, and then love–all in an effort to gain control over her own body. We get to know, some along with her, the heartbreakingly damaged people in her life.
But the most important point of this book is how she teaches us of the incredible psychological trauma of the Indigenous Peoples of America. At one point, she has a conversation with her agent about how no one wants to read about Native Americans, that she should write something more akin to her dominatrix book, something about her–urban and edgy. So she does just that with this book–writing her love story, but still managing to weave in Native American history in every stop that is made, and let us know just how that genocide and erasure has affected the people we have tried so hard to push down.
Prove that agent wrong. Order this book immediately, guys. It’s sexy, it’s beautiful, it’s IMPORTANT. There are LGBTQIA+ and Native and POC people everywhere in this. And you know, that agent is right about one thing–we don’t see too many Native American authors–but that shouldn’t mean a lack of wanting them published. We need more stories like this, and we can start with Melissa Fabos. GO ORDER THIS BOOK, YA’LL.
I read Whip Smart and didn't finish it. I appreciated so much of it but the writing didn't carry me through. Or it felt redundant. Or it was the wrong time for me to read it. Anyway, when I found an ARC of Abandon Me I was intrigued but not keeling over with excitement. I started the book that night and we were inseparable for days -- until literally minutes ago when I turned the last page. I fucked this book UP with underlining and circling and star-ing and exclamation point-ing and DOUBLE and TRIPLE and QUADRUPLE underlining and square-ing whole paragraphs, accentuated with stars. I read it on the train and walking up stairs and walking home from the train, having to lean the book against a lamppost to underline and exclamation point some more. I told my roommates about it. I told my co-workers about it. I would have told people on the train about it but that's "inappropriate." The writing is vast. Have you read Lidia Yuknavitch's (eternally brilliant) Chronology of Water? It hit me like that. Except Yuknavitch's story is woven beautifully but the story was not mine. I found myself again and again and again in the pages of Abandon Me. I offered to let my roommate read the copy but now it's so marked up I'm not sure anyone else would want to.
I read this book until it was 2am and my eyes couldn't anymore -- do you know how long it's been since that's happened? Since I thought about book wistfully when I couldn't be reading it?
Is anyone still reading this? Probably not. Probably you're all going to your locally-owned small bookstore and pre-ordering this book. You should. Especially if: you self-identify as a woman, you're any variation of queer, you've ever loved a woman, you've ever been in a co-dependent and emotionally abusive relationship, you were birthed by a woman, you have a brother, you have an addiction, you live and / or love New York City, you have indigenous heritage, you are not enough of something, you are too much.
This book makes me feel like maybe I don't ever need to find my biological dad. Like becoming my worst self with my ex fiance was the best thing I could have ever done for this moment, so many hundreds of days in the future. Like the man who acted like my father is the most benevolent gift this life has offered me. Like I should be in New Mexico or leaned back in a tattoo parlor. Like there is a way to tell our stories, that there is worth in everything we've left behind.
I can't wait for my roommate to read this book so that I can have it back and read it again. Until then I'm going back to Whip Smart to try it again. I already miss Abandon Me.
If you haven't read The Chronology of Water pick that up, too, while you're pre-ordering this one.
(Sidenote: I gave it a 4 because if MF can leap from Whip Smart to Abandon Me, I cannot truly conceive of what's next - but whatever it is, I want to leave space for her next genius)
While I appreciated Melissa’s candor and vulnerability, I didn’t like her perspective on abusive relationships. I think there’s value in reading memoirs, being able to empathize with the authors, and witnessing how they handle similar life obstacles. But given to the wrong audience at the wrong time, this book can carry a negative multiplier effect.
As I was reading this, I was caught up in the heated energy of her relationship. I’ll admit that I forgot how abusive relationships are ugly and painful. How they cause tremendous suffering and create destructive tendencies for both parties. That they are similar to drugs and addiction, except to people.
The problem is that prose has a way of twisting itself. It is multi-faceted and has a different interpretation amongst different readers. It can shroud reality within beautiful and majestic writing. And that is what happened here. While I don’t deny Melissa’s talent for story-telling and vulnerability, I can’t say I’ll ever be okay with the messages this book may convey.
I read this book with my hand clutched over my heart. It is such an aching, loving piece of art. It chronicles enough elements of Febos's life that it is difficult to braid all the threads into one neat summary. While so much of her story is fascinatingly unique, the book felt universal, with the kind of insight that resonates bone-deep. Febos's writing is gorgeous: I was truly blown away by the quality of the prose. I wish I could read it for the first time again. If you're interested in lyrical personal essay, I would highly recommend.
Electrifying, gut-wrenching, painful, gorgeous, personal... It was hard for me to get through it, and left me wrung dry and damp every time I put it down but was at the same time vividly addictive. Much, I suspect, like the author herself in some ways.
“You’re not even hungry! she’d say. You can’t be. But I was hungry. For food, for approval, for secrets, for my legs’ push against the ground, for the ocean, for words. For none of these things at all., but for the brief satisfaction of filling myself with them.”
What do we all have in common when it comes to love, regardless of our sexual preferences? It devours us, picks it’s teeth clean with our bones! It makes fools of us as we wait for returns when abandoned, a god/goddess when adored, vengeful when burned but most of all we are hungry for it, our mouths forever open for more! It isn’t any easier if you’re gay, or young, or rich… what stupid things to say. Love is a wound sometimes too. Melissa Febos opens her soul to the reader, purging emotions and thoughts that we can all relate to. You should read it whether you are male, female, gay, straight, foreign, alien… you get it. Love, this greedy hungry creature, where does it rise from within us, how does our upbringing prepare or damage us for future partners.
This is how one woman makes sense of her upside down heart, her compulsion to both eat and spit out love, you know- that compulsion that drives us all into the arms of someone, hoping to fill, be filled and at the same time emptied out. Love is insane, our childhoods are insane… how the heck do we survive it all? As Melissa writes about her father (The Captain) and her mother’s seperation, his ‘stepping away from them’, it is poignant how it also her own love story in a sense. We take the beginings of our own story, which starts with our parents, and build a skeleton with it, on which we add our future and what a home it is! She rebels, she experiments, she stumbles and on and on she goes, as we all do.
Beautiful writing dripping with raw emotion, salt in wounds words. Yes, yes… me too! I have felt that, I have done that, it’s me, it’s you! From the quote I shared at the start of this review- “you’re not even hungry” we are always hungry! Our past is never completely behind us, every single person that we love or learn about love from we carry on our backs, we all need to be the adored and to adore. Love shifts, things end, and falling in love is both an ascension to heaven and a sacrifice to some terrifying demon. As Melisa Febos says “Though a clumsy child, I was a scrupulous keeper of secrets.” And lucky for us that is true, because what are memoirs really but a divulging of secrets, be they thoughts or stories that live inside our minds? Gorgeous.
I'm still unraveling my thoughts about Melissa Febos' memoir because there's just so much in here. I really appreciated her prose around rethinking her generationally traumatic family history and her ongoing issues with addiction in multiple forms—substance abuse, obsession and abandonment, and more.
On the structural side of things, a few of the shorter stories felt a little clunky and repetitive, and the setup of the memoir was odd. (It features a ton of really short essays and then a very long one that takes up over half of the book.) I also know on a larger content note that more than a few people are going to take issue with how she categorizes and unpacks her emotionally abusive and wildly toxic relationship in ways that still feel somewhat unhealthy and unfinished.
If you're looking for other memoirs that deal with issues like addiction and toxic relationships in more complete ways, I definitely recommend Carmen Maria Machado's In the Dream House and Nina Renata Aron's Good Morning, Destroyer of Men's Souls.
Content warning: Drug addiction, suicidal ideation, infidelity, emotional abuse by a partner
This book has some truly lovely sentences, but I was bored and ultimately insulted by the amount of repetition in it (how many times in the course of one book do I need to be introduced to her lover—coyly anonymous in some chapters, named in others—or the fact that her father is a sea captain? Not this many).
Luminous, courageous, seductive, sensual and mighty mighty strong. Febos' prose is so clear-sighted but so incredibly lush at the same time—reading this beautiful book felt like traveling toward land on a cold, cold ocean in a warm, velvet gown.
"I have always wanted to carve my name into the things I am afraid of losing. Perhaps the desire ot leave marks is more honestly a desire not to be left" (27).
"Every story beings with an unraveling. This story starts with a kiss. Her mouth the soft nail on which my life snagged, and tore open" (131).
"We all craft a story we can live with. The one that makes ourselves easier to live with. This is not the one worth writing. To write your story, you must fave a truer version of it. You must look at the parts that hurt, that do not flatter or comfort you. That do not spare you the trouble of knowing what made you, and what into" (292).
OK, Febos snagged me! Really excellent to read this so close to IN THE DREAM HOUSE. Killer, killer sentences. Terrified to be left similarly wanting.
was going to be a 5, not sure how i feel about the ending including handwaving a partner's continually abusive, controlling behavior because she's just a person too. didn't really sit right with me.
A beautifully written and brutally honest book about losing yourself in love, finding out where you came from, addiction, and telling your own stories. Febos comes up with wonderful, provocative similes and images and insightful, hard-hitting truths time and again throughout the book, which is kind of unbelievable. There were so many times when I felt compelled to write down quotations.
I did feel like the last piece, which takes up about the last half the book and is about her destructive long-distance relationship with a woman and connecting with her Wampanoag birth father, felt unwieldy. I saw some connections in the stories, but I didn't see why she didn't divide them into two essays. It felt a bit jarring to move between the two narratives while reading without compelling connections to explain why they were being told together. Still, I highly recommend this book. I'll be thinking about it for a long time, I think.
Some of my favourite quotations are:
“Every story begins with an unraveling. This story starts with a kiss. Her mouth the soft nail on which my life snagged, and tore open.”
“Maybe that’s all bravery is: when your hunger is greater than your fear.”
“Love is so often a wish to have our wants seen and met, without our having to ask.”
“Tenderness toward the object of our desire becomes an expression of love partly, I think, because it so defies the nature of want, whose instinct is often less to cuddle than to crush.”
"I only wanted to know where I ended and everything else began, and I still do, in those oceanic days."
This memoir isn't about just one thing as most people aren't only about one thing. But what connects Febos fragments about her Native American heritage, heroin addiction, an unhealthy lesbian relationship, a father at sea (presented as "The Captain"), and a complicated relationship with her biological dad is the pain of abandonment and how that abandonment can manifest itself as dangerous, terrifying, but also an opportunity for something else, something a little holy if you really look at it.
Reading Abandon Me is like when corn presents itself on a long train ride, when you wake up naked in an empty bed, like those subtle moments that move from afternoon to evening and everything feels beautiful. Honest in the way that makes you sad for the pain Febos experienced, the kind you also know, but grateful to read something so close to the truth. Loved this book. Without a doubt will read everything Melissa Febos has ever written.
While the narrative thread here is loose and frayed, the writing is beautiful, intimate and raw. She focuses mainly on three relationships: a mostly absent biological father, an adoptive, sea captain father, and a long-distance affair with a manipulative, married woman. As the title implies, she looks at how to cope when those you love are absent or unavailable. I'm also curious about her other memoir that looks at her time as a heroin addict and dominatrix in NYC. 😲
I really just love Melissa Febos’ writing so much. It’s so beautiful, so emotional, so intense, so magnetic, so honest, so vulnerable, so real. She is such an amazing author. This is the second book I’ve read of hers, and it is a book about many things - about passion and losing oneself in love, about untangling a destructive romance, about finding ancestry, and Native heritage, about being queer, about being a woman, about addiction, and about mental health.
She wraps her beautiful prose describing events from her own life with far-reaching references - Jung, The Wizard of Oz, Greek mythology, Moby Dick, Darwin, Lorraine Hansberry, Billie Holiday, Cain from the Bible - and many more literary, mythological, historical and psychological mentions.
A simply gorgeous book, I absolutely loved it.
“Our stories tell us that some passions are rewarded and others punished. But passion always feels justified. … In our passion, we rarely know if it will lead to salvation or damnation. And sometimes, it is both.”
I feel a bit mixed about this one. Reading it as part of Booktubeathon, it meant I read it over a couple of days, but I know that otherwise it probably would have taken me a while.
D'yknow? I don't think I was in the right frame of mind for this book right now... I wasn't really sure what it was about (other than a memoir), but it's also about depression and addiction and a toxic relationship, and I just felt it had a general underlying feeling of grief, depression and despair that I found difficult to deal with. Just before I read this, Michael Stone (yoga teacher and amazing writer) died from a drug overdose relating to his bi-polar and I'd been reading quite a lot about that and him (whose writing and insights I love) so this kinda all seeped into the book for me.... And I wasn't having a great time.
So if I'd have read it at another time maybe I would have liked it more? But also, there were things I liked lots - I liked the style, I liked the stuff she was saying, I was interested in her heritage - how she'd never really known her real father but had his tastes and mannerisms (like eating pancakes with butter and salt), I liked the stuff about her adoptive father who is a sea captain, her feelings of trying to fit in (her father is Native American), her feelings of abandonment. The relationship made me mad! Just leave her already!!! And I was surprised she managed to write about La Push without referencing twilight.....
This book promises in terms of raw honesty and reflection. Her search for understanding her own deep seated fears of love and abandonment delivered in a poetic and philosophical way that was different from other memoirs I’ve read.
Gorgeous and deeply personal. As a Métis person I felt a certain kinship with Febos, but readers are likely to relate to her on many other levels (as I did also). I haven't read the preceding memoir (Whip Smart), having read this I may return to it, and from the topics covered therein, I think the more hopeful note we are left with in Abandon Me, it might make the experience less painful.
I've encountered Febos in Kink: Stories, and have enjoyed it, her tone, and style so I will seek more of it out from hereon out. Febos' intelligence and extensive literacy make for a wonderful journey into etymology as well, linking it to everyday life, as word nerd I loved this aspect in particular.
While visiting a friends childhood home she came across the book and said “I think you’d like it”. I did. If it had been hyped up I would have been underwhelmed. It’s a lightly engaging piece. Again, I should have written this soon after finishing the book.
At one point in the book she mentions the comments she gets about her appearance, such as “what are you?”. Rarely, leaning toward never, do I come across someone else who “looks white but is maybe a little something else and gets weird remarks and questions regarding race”. While not in real life, it was nice to find this in the pages of a novel.
How I rate books: 5 Stars= I absolutely loved it, felt very moved. Extraordinary. Maybe I cried. I rarely give this rating. 4 Stars= Well done. I was well engaged. 3 Stars= I enjoyed it but wasn't wowed. My most common rating 2 Stars=Meh 1 Stars= The kind of book that I feel shouldn't have been published be it might discourage some from becoming readers.