A moving and thought provoking read. Moss’s writing, as always, is lucid and engaging, a perfect balancing act between difficult subjects lightened with flashes of humour.

Devastating work. Powerful, poetic, and stripped down to the bone of what you can tolerate as a reader, which is a magnificent achievement given the subject matter. This is hard to read and there were times when I just had to put this down and walk away from it. My daughter was diagnosed with an eating disorder and so much of this writing connected me to dark, difficult places. The beauty of this writing is that it is real. This is it. This is how it is. In the shifting negotiation between what you know and what you feel, what you remember and what you think you remember, what you believe and how you take that out on yourself, this is true. I've read a lot of stuff around eating disorders and this feels like the truest thing I've ever read. I am in awe of the author for what she has done here. It's brutal and beautiful.

Sarah Moss’s gripping memoir of her mental health struggles, UK release 29 August, is creative and affecting.

“This is a memoir in that it’s an account of what I remember. Memory is fallible.”

Moss initially uses a chorus to vividly reflect this, scoffing at inconsistencies and untruths – “You’re getting this from films, you have no idea” – playing down her emotions, accusing her of attention-seeking. This exasperated, gainsaying, voice stays with us throughout, but the source of it shifts tellingly.

She recalls active, intellectual parents with no time for the unhealthy inane 1980s, making her curious about other families, who seemed warmer, closer. These families eat fish fingers, food forbidden at home and which when visiting she declines, fearing to be thought greedy and weak. In the classic books she compulsively re-reads she’s told that self-denial, for women and girls, is a sign of “goodness”, so it’s easier just to be “good”, politely refuse the food, and deal with the hunger pains.

Moss provides such a vivid and painful insight in to the effects of her parents’ cold practicality. It left her feeling undervalued, loved perhaps, but uncared for and admonished constantly. We are with her through her school years, her friendships, and her initial battles with mental health and eating disorders. In more recent years her thoughts are filled with reprimands and compulsions, leading to a complete breakdown of her health. In care, she’s considered “not compliant” for not following her eating plan. If she could follow an eating plan, she argues, she wouldn’t be here...

Moss bravely shows the disjoint between her high level of privilege and her low level of contentment – what right do I have to be this distressed when others have so much more cause? In trying to understand this she foregrounds the pernicious effects of class, race, and gender politics.

This is a book about her, rather than her conditions. Even though we feel their ravages the heart and soul of this book is the real Sarah Moss who suffered and persisted, and who continues to have hope.

Moving and exquisitely written.

I adore Sarah Moss' fiction and was bowled over by this extraordinary memoir.

From the start it was clear that this was no ordinary life. The style is written once removed, with chunks of judgements emphasised by the use of the second person and passive tense. Moss was subjected to careless, disinterested parenting which, whilst giving her great freedoms, did not remove expectations of how she manged this and was perpetually found wanting. Love and care were completely absent and holidays were spent mountain walking or sailing without supplies as she wasn't going to "waste away".

But waste away is exactly what she did. Taking control by stopping eating and developing a lifelong eating disorder. Even then, "You are still too fat, you heard, It would be good if you wasted away. You applied yourself to the task"

It is common for parenting styles to swing between generations but it is assumed (by me anyway) that you learn along the way, adapting to your child's needs. This did not happen for Moss despite her "liberal" academic, feminist parents whose own needs trumped hers. It occurs to her toward the end of the book "..not for the first time, that the advantage of your upbringing was having little to miss, no home to pull you back"

I found reading this compulsive yet raw, distressing yet enlightening memoir stunning. It captured so clearly the true essence of her life and how she has used (and been hampered) by her experiences. Another Moss book to recommend.

Thank you to #NetGalley and #PanMacmillan for the opportunity to read and review

This is a very compelling book but should perhaps come with a health warning because it is a very hard read. I have greatly enjoyed all the other books by Sarah Moss - she writes beautifully and her characters are finely delineated. In this memoir she turns her focus on herself and i was greatly saddened to learn that the young woman whose work I so admire has had such challenges to overcome. Her parents - who she names the Owl and the Jumbly Girl - are the most selfishly appalling pair I've encountered on the page since reading Suzanne Heywood's "Wavewalker" - and in he first part of the memoir which covers her childhood a parental voice often interrupts to contradict her account, a clever way of emphasising that different people will have different recollections of the same events - different stories, as Moss reminds us at the start of the book - and, while presenting a plausibly different perspective, adding further to the perception of parental emotional neglect.
I particularly liked the digressions about her reading, especially those books that have meant a great deal to her, and her close analysis of those meanings: her formidable scholarship sustains her through many of her difficulties, she understands that she must eat to nourish her brain to continue to think clearly but this conflicts with her focus on managing the impact of food on her body.
Her gradual fade into severe anorexia is chronicled in terrible detail: her internal rationalisations for not eating and her feelings about her body are set out with brutal clarity. Interestingly, she writes about her fear of dogs but chooses a wolf as a metaphor for comfort.
This writing is very brave indeed, far from the solipsism of the genre of "misery memoir". Moss is her own severest critic. I have given it 5 stars but would warn that you need to be feeling strong to read it.

I always enjoy Sarah Moss’s writing and ‘My Good Bright Wolf’ is up there with the best of her work. This is such a brave and unusual memoir that I know it will stay with me for a long time. Moss writes unflinchingly about the ways in which her childhood has shaped her whilst also addressing the conundrum that we can never be entirely reliant on our memories to get at the truth.
Whilst it is clear that the narrator suffers from relatively affluent neglect as a child, alongside constant blunt reminders that she is, like her mother, too fat, Moss never drifts into self-pity. Whilst, at times, I am outraged on her behalf – she never is. Looking back on her childhood self, Moss dares to question the diktats of her parents whilst also trying to make sense of their parenting. Why is it wrong to care about home comforts? She remembers her childhood friend Lulu whose, ‘family weren’t as good as your family because they kept their small house so warm you didn’t need a jumper, called their dinner ‘tea’ and ate it – processed muck from a box – on their laps in front of the gas fire and the television, another box producing processed muck.’ She also remembers feeling accepted at Lulu’s house and basking in the family’s kindness – a contrast to the atmosphere at home.
This is not a misery memoir – Moss is at pains to remind her narrative self and her readers that she has grown up with many privileges. She writes, ‘It has been hard, writing this, not to be defensive, not to be forever saying how lucky you are, how loudly you wish to acknowledge that there can have been no serious suffering in a childhood of ballet lessons and private school, in an adult life of home-owning and secure employment…’ This is not a misery memoir, and yet … Moss has suffered some terrible episodes of poor mental health, seen, not least, through her struggles with anorexia which, at times, has completely overwhelmed her capacity to do anything more than to focus on the art of starving.
I shall be urging everyone to read ‘My Good Bright Wolf’. Whilst it is clearly a book which speaks to women of all ages, it is not just for women. It is also a contemplation on much else, including parenthood, friendship, the creative process, and the importance of literature. Highly recommended.
My thanks to NetGalley and Pan Macmillan for a copy of this book in exchange for a fair review.

Sarah Moss's memoir, My Good Bright Wolf, is as electrically written and charged as her novels. The writing explodes across the page like fireworks. This is not a usual memoir, it is not all warts and all, beginning to now - it is mostly chronological, but it takes detours, takes its time to explore literature, memory, depression, and upbringing.

This will not be an easy read for everyone - some might become frustrated at Moss' refusal to confirm to genre norms - but it is ultimately a fascinating read, and at times rewarding. It does leave you longing at times to learn more of her thinking on certain ideas - mainly to do with her reading and interpretation of classic literature that shaped her - Arthur Ransome, Laura Ingalls Wilder, and Sylvia Plath - though I suspect at some point in the future such a book from her could easily exist.

Overall I thoroughly enjoyed reading this - I wolfed it down in one sitting - and was a reminder again of how talented a writer Moss is.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publishers for the ARC.

I love Sarah Moss’s novels and her memoir was just as good.
To say it’s raw and honest is something of an understatement.
We move from her childhood - written like a devastating fairytale - to her battles with food and hunger. This aspect of her memoir is unflinching, sad and hard to read.
And of course this is also about books and being a reader and feminism and is beautifully, beautifully written.
This powerful and painful life story will stay stay with me for a long time.

An extraordinarily powerful and moving read. This memoir by Sarah Moss was compelling from start to finish.

The author is the first to admit that she had many advantages growing up but with self esteem issues that led to illness much of her life has been a battle that had her waging war on herself. Raw, real and very brave, this isn't an easy read its journey telling of the good, the bad, how it was, how she thought it was and what was lacking.

This memoir gave me much to reflect on, the books that meant something to Sarah growing up were the same ones I read but our upbringings couldn't have been more different. Read it and weep - this is one you won't forget reading.

I’m a fan of the author’s fiction so decided to give My Good Bright Wolf a shot. It was the title that drew me to this memoir. I really enjoyed this book. I found it very moving. The author’s childhood insecurities and eating disorder return to haunt her as an adult. I think some of the pain or experiences we have when we’re young can still have an impact on us as adults no matter how we’ve turned out and how much we’ve left out young self behind. I felt a real connection to the author’s experiences. I’m still haunted with things that happened to me what I was young. We are all shaped by our past. This is a gripping read and I’d recommend it.

Honest, raw, intellectual, intelligent and searingly human. A book I needed to read in short bursts, but I found the truth in the exploration of memory and the shaping of a mind and body profoundly illuminating. I especially enjoyed the ‘readings’ of the literature that fed this brilliant author.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity to review this book.

My Good Bright Wolf by Sarah Moss

Oh my goodness , what a book . Such an honest insight on Sarahs life .
She lays it all bare , her parents , her struggle with an eating disorder and her mental health it's all there.
Brilliant.

This is not an easy read. It's a story of how Sarah Moss grew up and developed anorexia, showing how the voices in our heads can have so much influence over our lives, even when they're twisted and slowly destroying. It shows how her parents' attitudes to what was of value, and their own prejudices, were internalised by her and how she sought reward for having willpower, being good and not eating. It also shows how things which she loved, like hiking, were part of this cycle and could be used.

The writing is beautiful, the style makes it slightly removed as it isn't first person, which contributes to the way she sometimes questions her memory of events. Is the ending hopeful or not - I couldn't really tell. It was a compelling read, despite being difficult.

I have reviewed My Good Bright Wolf for book recommendation and sales site LoveReading.co.uk. I’ve awarded it a LoveReading Star Book and it will also sit as a Liz Pick of the Month for October. Please see the link for the full review.

Thank to NetGalley and Pan Macmillan for providing a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

"Your very bones took up too much space"

I am a big Sarah Moss fan so when I saw she had written a memoir I was thrilled. As expected it didn't disappoint. It's hard to describe how I felt about this book, it is a difficult read because a lot of it is relatable but you are also fully aware this story is uniquely the authors. Nevertheless l couldn't put it down and devoured it over a few days whenever I had a spare moment I would pick up this book. The insight into someone's illness was rare but refreshing. I found the scene in hospital particularly poignant.

This was excellent and I'm so glad I could read it ahead of publication (I will definitely be picking up a physical copy). Its one of the best memoirs I've read and I can't wait to read more from Sarah Moss!

My Good Bright Wolf is an incredibly lyrical and powerful memoir from Sarah Moss. It is far from an easy read, detailing as it does her in some ways unorthodox childhood, her complicated relationship with food which began in those years and re- emerged with a vengeance during the Covid-19 pandemic and her continuing struggle to deal with the issues and baggage she carries with her. It did take me a little while to get into the style of the book, but even then I could see and appreciate the skill and beauty of the writing and by the second half I was fully captivated by not only the author's journey but also the unique way she chose to share it. As a book lover and avid reader I also loved the choice to discuss several books that had an impact on her, for good or ill , and this was a nice unexpected bonus.
There are many issues within this book which will resonate with readers , the relationships we have with our bodies and our minds are unique and constantly evolving and that is something that is really explored in this compelling and memorable book.
I read and reviewed an ARC courtesy of NetGalley and the publisher, all opinions are my own.