The Part That Burns

You want to read this gorgeous, luminous memoir, as heart-breaking as it is redemptive. Told in fragments--like memory--some as clear and cutting as glass while others are as gauzy as dreams. Those told in the child Jeannie's voice have us rooting for her courageous spirit and grit. Others read as poetry, aching and beautiful. My first reading of this book was a compulsive straight-through. My second is slow to savor Ouellette's lyrical prose. Exquisite writing.

Jeannine Ouellette's memoir The Part That Burns shines like a prism of light and color. This fragmented/mosaic of stories is like a beautiful heirloom quilt lovingly stitched together reflecting the expert hand of its maker. Each essay, like squares of a beautiful quilt, are delicately woven together. This is a book to hold in your hands, carry in your heart, and absorb into your skin - your bones. The Part That Burns is a work of art to return to in awe and inspiration.

I read the book, "The Part that Burns" in smaller but delicious doses, saving the memoir over several days. my There are memories and events we cannot see directly, at least, not eye-to-eye. Jeannine Oulette, author and Sherpa of a tortuous but exquisitely told journey, allows us to see even when we try to squeeze our eyes tightly shut. Reading Oulette's "The Part that Burns" feels like she is standing with you, taking you by the hand as you climb this rocky path beside her, and then, full of new depth and understanding, come down the other side of the mountain. In the last steps on the journey in the chapter, Bent, we encounter Lilly, who helps us find our way and illuminate what we might have missed in our haste to rush, wet-eyed, through the hardest parts. Lilly is younger, clear-eyed, wise beyond her years and a reflecting pool for the author - and for us. You should buy this book now, so you can savor it too - or devour it whole in one night.

I absolutely love this book! It handles trauma with a sense of tenderness and shows how language can be a salve both to the writer and reader. It is a beautifully written memoir by a supremely talented writer.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir The Part That Burns is a must read!! I actually read the whole book in one sitting; I could not be pulled away from it. The second time through, I savored each fragment. Although Ouellette grapples with difficult themes and content, she employs exquisite language and true craft to weave her story. The manuscript is beautiful and uplifting. 🌸

Beautiful imagery and tragedy without martyrdom doled out with an open heart and poetic, important voice.

This is a painful story that points the way to emotional survival, a narrative that speaks directly to the soul.

For readers of Ocean Vuong, Anne Boyer, and fragmented memoirs everywhere. Ouellette's The Part That Burns is urgent and expertly crafted. Her meditation on nature left me thinking of the Buddhist meditative practice of Tonglen, as described by Pema Chodron, "when we see or feel suffering, we  breathe in with the notion of completely feeling it, accepting it, and owning it... Then we breathe out, radiating compassion, lovingkindness, freshness—anything that encourages relaxation and openness.  So you’re training in softening, rather than tightening, your heart." Because she does. She does breathe out SO MUCH BEAUTY. I cannot wait to read whatever Jeannine Ouellette comes out with next. Thank you for sharing your story and prose with the world.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir in fragments, The Part That Burns, reads like a shattered mirror that the author reassembles as you go, pulled forward by writing that’s precise and beautiful both in its parts and as a whole. Often when I read I mark sentences that shine, soar, stop me in my tracks with their potency. A good book usually has a handful, a great book more than that. This book has so many it’s hard to pull them out. I searched for a line or two that I might share here, but find myself highlighting entire paragraphs. Beyond this, the fragmented structure Ouellette employs to tell this story is itself masterful and compelling. Ouellette spans the time between her own childhood and motherhood, sharing potent memories of herself as child, daughter, mother, and the places in between, as well as the intersections between all these selves. I think again of mirrors, the ones in the fun house at the fair, where you see many reflections from many angles, some distortions of who we are, some closer to reality, but all real in that place in time, from our perspective as we look at what we see in the panels around us. Make no mistake: this narrator’s voice is clear and true, and you’ll want to know where she goes next. You’ll hold your breath at times, and you’ll pull for her to reach her destinations safely. A story of childhood sexual abuse, a story of a girl who journeys and survives, eventually thrives, this is not the usual memoir with this subject at its core. It’s a map of the path this narrator took, not in sequence, but the way you would hear it if she told it to a friend, or a therapist, in remembered pieces, so you come to the whole almost by surprise, with a little gasp of wow as you see where she ends up. Very highly recommended.

Just like those times when you fall in love with a painting and wish you could paint, or hear a heart-warming piece of music and wish you could compose, this book will make you wish that you had magical powers of memory and writing. The Part That Burns' powerful narrative weaves a set of essays into a story of transformation and compassion. The writer’s sensitive stories of childhood traumas foreshadow her adult capacity for forgiveness and understanding, Each essay is underscored with an element of nature. It is as if the stories are put into perspective by the tender world of nature. Mothers will relate to the writing about motherhood and its deep joys and vulnerabilities. This memoir is poetry and story combined.

You want to read this gorgeous, luminous memoir, as heart-breaking as it is redemptive. Told in fragments--like memory--some as clear and cutting as glass while others are as gauzy as dreams. Those told in the child Jeannie's voice have us rooting for her courageous spirit and grit. Others read as poetry, aching and beautiful. My first reading of this book was a compulsive straight-through. My second is slow to savor Ouellette's lyrical prose. Exquisite writing.

Jeannine Ouellette's memoir The Part That Burns shines like a prism of light and color. This fragmented/mosaic of stories is like a beautiful heirloom quilt lovingly stitched together reflecting the expert hand of its maker. Each essay, like squares of a beautiful quilt, are delicately woven together. This is a book to hold in your hands, carry in your heart, and absorb into your skin - your bones. The Part That Burns is a work of art to return to in awe and inspiration.

I read the book, "The Part that Burns" in smaller but delicious doses, saving the memoir over several days. my There are memories and events we cannot see directly, at least, not eye-to-eye. Jeannine Oulette, author and Sherpa of a tortuous but exquisitely told journey, allows us to see even when we try to squeeze our eyes tightly shut. Reading Oulette's "The Part that Burns" feels like she is standing with you, taking you by the hand as you climb this rocky path beside her, and then, full of new depth and understanding, come down the other side of the mountain. In the last steps on the journey in the chapter, Bent, we encounter Lilly, who helps us find our way and illuminate what we might have missed in our haste to rush, wet-eyed, through the hardest parts. Lilly is younger, clear-eyed, wise beyond her years and a reflecting pool for the author - and for us. You should buy this book now, so you can savor it too - or devour it whole in one night.

I absolutely love this book! It handles trauma with a sense of tenderness and shows how language can be a salve both to the writer and reader. It is a beautifully written memoir by a supremely talented writer.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir The Part That Burns is a must read!! I actually read the whole book in one sitting; I could not be pulled away from it. The second time through, I savored each fragment. Although Ouellette grapples with difficult themes and content, she employs exquisite language and true craft to weave her story. The manuscript is beautiful and uplifting. 🌸

Beautiful imagery and tragedy without martyrdom doled out with an open heart and poetic, important voice.

This is a painful story that points the way to emotional survival, a narrative that speaks directly to the soul.

For readers of Ocean Vuong, Anne Boyer, and fragmented memoirs everywhere. Ouellette's The Part That Burns is urgent and expertly crafted. Her meditation on nature left me thinking of the Buddhist meditative practice of Tonglen, as described by Pema Chodron, "when we see or feel suffering, we  breathe in with the notion of completely feeling it, accepting it, and owning it... Then we breathe out, radiating compassion, lovingkindness, freshness—anything that encourages relaxation and openness.  So you’re training in softening, rather than tightening, your heart." Because she does. She does breathe out SO MUCH BEAUTY. I cannot wait to read whatever Jeannine Ouellette comes out with next. Thank you for sharing your story and prose with the world.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir in fragments, The Part That Burns, reads like a shattered mirror that the author reassembles as you go, pulled forward by writing that’s precise and beautiful both in its parts and as a whole. Often when I read I mark sentences that shine, soar, stop me in my tracks with their potency. A good book usually has a handful, a great book more than that. This book has so many it’s hard to pull them out. I searched for a line or two that I might share here, but find myself highlighting entire paragraphs. Beyond this, the fragmented structure Ouellette employs to tell this story is itself masterful and compelling. Ouellette spans the time between her own childhood and motherhood, sharing potent memories of herself as child, daughter, mother, and the places in between, as well as the intersections between all these selves. I think again of mirrors, the ones in the fun house at the fair, where you see many reflections from many angles, some distortions of who we are, some closer to reality, but all real in that place in time, from our perspective as we look at what we see in the panels around us. Make no mistake: this narrator’s voice is clear and true, and you’ll want to know where she goes next. You’ll hold your breath at times, and you’ll pull for her to reach her destinations safely. A story of childhood sexual abuse, a story of a girl who journeys and survives, eventually thrives, this is not the usual memoir with this subject at its core. It’s a map of the path this narrator took, not in sequence, but the way you would hear it if she told it to a friend, or a therapist, in remembered pieces, so you come to the whole almost by surprise, with a little gasp of wow as you see where she ends up. Very highly recommended.

Just like those times when you fall in love with a painting and wish you could paint, or hear a heart-warming piece of music and wish you could compose, this book will make you wish that you had magical powers of memory and writing. The Part That Burns' powerful narrative weaves a set of essays into a story of transformation and compassion. The writer’s sensitive stories of childhood traumas foreshadow her adult capacity for forgiveness and understanding, Each essay is underscored with an element of nature. It is as if the stories are put into perspective by the tender world of nature. Mothers will relate to the writing about motherhood and its deep joys and vulnerabilities. This memoir is poetry and story combined.

You want to read this gorgeous, luminous memoir, as heart-breaking as it is redemptive. Told in fragments--like memory--some as clear and cutting as glass while others are as gauzy as dreams. Those told in the child Jeannie's voice have us rooting for her courageous spirit and grit. Others read as poetry, aching and beautiful. My first reading of this book was a compulsive straight-through. My second is slow to savor Ouellette's lyrical prose. Exquisite writing.

Jeannine Ouellette's memoir The Part That Burns shines like a prism of light and color. This fragmented/mosaic of stories is like a beautiful heirloom quilt lovingly stitched together reflecting the expert hand of its maker. Each essay, like squares of a beautiful quilt, are delicately woven together. This is a book to hold in your hands, carry in your heart, and absorb into your skin - your bones. The Part That Burns is a work of art to return to in awe and inspiration.

I read the book, "The Part that Burns" in smaller but delicious doses, saving the memoir over several days. my There are memories and events we cannot see directly, at least, not eye-to-eye. Jeannine Oulette, author and Sherpa of a tortuous but exquisitely told journey, allows us to see even when we try to squeeze our eyes tightly shut. Reading Oulette's "The Part that Burns" feels like she is standing with you, taking you by the hand as you climb this rocky path beside her, and then, full of new depth and understanding, come down the other side of the mountain. In the last steps on the journey in the chapter, Bent, we encounter Lilly, who helps us find our way and illuminate what we might have missed in our haste to rush, wet-eyed, through the hardest parts. Lilly is younger, clear-eyed, wise beyond her years and a reflecting pool for the author - and for us. You should buy this book now, so you can savor it too - or devour it whole in one night.

I absolutely love this book! It handles trauma with a sense of tenderness and shows how language can be a salve both to the writer and reader. It is a beautifully written memoir by a supremely talented writer.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir The Part That Burns is a must read!! I actually read the whole book in one sitting; I could not be pulled away from it. The second time through, I savored each fragment. Although Ouellette grapples with difficult themes and content, she employs exquisite language and true craft to weave her story. The manuscript is beautiful and uplifting. 🌸

Beautiful imagery and tragedy without martyrdom doled out with an open heart and poetic, important voice.

This is a painful story that points the way to emotional survival, a narrative that speaks directly to the soul.

For readers of Ocean Vuong, Anne Boyer, and fragmented memoirs everywhere. Ouellette's The Part That Burns is urgent and expertly crafted. Her meditation on nature left me thinking of the Buddhist meditative practice of Tonglen, as described by Pema Chodron, "when we see or feel suffering, we  breathe in with the notion of completely feeling it, accepting it, and owning it... Then we breathe out, radiating compassion, lovingkindness, freshness—anything that encourages relaxation and openness.  So you’re training in softening, rather than tightening, your heart." Because she does. She does breathe out SO MUCH BEAUTY. I cannot wait to read whatever Jeannine Ouellette comes out with next. Thank you for sharing your story and prose with the world.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir in fragments, The Part That Burns, reads like a shattered mirror that the author reassembles as you go, pulled forward by writing that’s precise and beautiful both in its parts and as a whole. Often when I read I mark sentences that shine, soar, stop me in my tracks with their potency. A good book usually has a handful, a great book more than that. This book has so many it’s hard to pull them out. I searched for a line or two that I might share here, but find myself highlighting entire paragraphs. Beyond this, the fragmented structure Ouellette employs to tell this story is itself masterful and compelling. Ouellette spans the time between her own childhood and motherhood, sharing potent memories of herself as child, daughter, mother, and the places in between, as well as the intersections between all these selves. I think again of mirrors, the ones in the fun house at the fair, where you see many reflections from many angles, some distortions of who we are, some closer to reality, but all real in that place in time, from our perspective as we look at what we see in the panels around us. Make no mistake: this narrator’s voice is clear and true, and you’ll want to know where she goes next. You’ll hold your breath at times, and you’ll pull for her to reach her destinations safely. A story of childhood sexual abuse, a story of a girl who journeys and survives, eventually thrives, this is not the usual memoir with this subject at its core. It’s a map of the path this narrator took, not in sequence, but the way you would hear it if she told it to a friend, or a therapist, in remembered pieces, so you come to the whole almost by surprise, with a little gasp of wow as you see where she ends up. Very highly recommended.

Just like those times when you fall in love with a painting and wish you could paint, or hear a heart-warming piece of music and wish you could compose, this book will make you wish that you had magical powers of memory and writing. The Part That Burns' powerful narrative weaves a set of essays into a story of transformation and compassion. The writer’s sensitive stories of childhood traumas foreshadow her adult capacity for forgiveness and understanding, Each essay is underscored with an element of nature. It is as if the stories are put into perspective by the tender world of nature. Mothers will relate to the writing about motherhood and its deep joys and vulnerabilities. This memoir is poetry and story combined.

You want to read this gorgeous, luminous memoir, as heart-breaking as it is redemptive. Told in fragments--like memory--some as clear and cutting as glass while others are as gauzy as dreams. Those told in the child Jeannie's voice have us rooting for her courageous spirit and grit. Others read as poetry, aching and beautiful. My first reading of this book was a compulsive straight-through. My second is slow to savor Ouellette's lyrical prose. Exquisite writing.

Jeannine Ouellette's memoir The Part That Burns shines like a prism of light and color. This fragmented/mosaic of stories is like a beautiful heirloom quilt lovingly stitched together reflecting the expert hand of its maker. Each essay, like squares of a beautiful quilt, are delicately woven together. This is a book to hold in your hands, carry in your heart, and absorb into your skin - your bones. The Part That Burns is a work of art to return to in awe and inspiration.

I read the book, "The Part that Burns" in smaller but delicious doses, saving the memoir over several days. my There are memories and events we cannot see directly, at least, not eye-to-eye. Jeannine Oulette, author and Sherpa of a tortuous but exquisitely told journey, allows us to see even when we try to squeeze our eyes tightly shut. Reading Oulette's "The Part that Burns" feels like she is standing with you, taking you by the hand as you climb this rocky path beside her, and then, full of new depth and understanding, come down the other side of the mountain. In the last steps on the journey in the chapter, Bent, we encounter Lilly, who helps us find our way and illuminate what we might have missed in our haste to rush, wet-eyed, through the hardest parts. Lilly is younger, clear-eyed, wise beyond her years and a reflecting pool for the author - and for us. You should buy this book now, so you can savor it too - or devour it whole in one night.

I absolutely love this book! It handles trauma with a sense of tenderness and shows how language can be a salve both to the writer and reader. It is a beautifully written memoir by a supremely talented writer.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir The Part That Burns is a must read!! I actually read the whole book in one sitting; I could not be pulled away from it. The second time through, I savored each fragment. Although Ouellette grapples with difficult themes and content, she employs exquisite language and true craft to weave her story. The manuscript is beautiful and uplifting. 🌸

Beautiful imagery and tragedy without martyrdom doled out with an open heart and poetic, important voice.

This is a painful story that points the way to emotional survival, a narrative that speaks directly to the soul.

For readers of Ocean Vuong, Anne Boyer, and fragmented memoirs everywhere. Ouellette's The Part That Burns is urgent and expertly crafted. Her meditation on nature left me thinking of the Buddhist meditative practice of Tonglen, as described by Pema Chodron, "when we see or feel suffering, we  breathe in with the notion of completely feeling it, accepting it, and owning it... Then we breathe out, radiating compassion, lovingkindness, freshness—anything that encourages relaxation and openness.  So you’re training in softening, rather than tightening, your heart." Because she does. She does breathe out SO MUCH BEAUTY. I cannot wait to read whatever Jeannine Ouellette comes out with next. Thank you for sharing your story and prose with the world.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir in fragments, The Part That Burns, reads like a shattered mirror that the author reassembles as you go, pulled forward by writing that’s precise and beautiful both in its parts and as a whole. Often when I read I mark sentences that shine, soar, stop me in my tracks with their potency. A good book usually has a handful, a great book more than that. This book has so many it’s hard to pull them out. I searched for a line or two that I might share here, but find myself highlighting entire paragraphs. Beyond this, the fragmented structure Ouellette employs to tell this story is itself masterful and compelling. Ouellette spans the time between her own childhood and motherhood, sharing potent memories of herself as child, daughter, mother, and the places in between, as well as the intersections between all these selves. I think again of mirrors, the ones in the fun house at the fair, where you see many reflections from many angles, some distortions of who we are, some closer to reality, but all real in that place in time, from our perspective as we look at what we see in the panels around us. Make no mistake: this narrator’s voice is clear and true, and you’ll want to know where she goes next. You’ll hold your breath at times, and you’ll pull for her to reach her destinations safely. A story of childhood sexual abuse, a story of a girl who journeys and survives, eventually thrives, this is not the usual memoir with this subject at its core. It’s a map of the path this narrator took, not in sequence, but the way you would hear it if she told it to a friend, or a therapist, in remembered pieces, so you come to the whole almost by surprise, with a little gasp of wow as you see where she ends up. Very highly recommended.

Just like those times when you fall in love with a painting and wish you could paint, or hear a heart-warming piece of music and wish you could compose, this book will make you wish that you had magical powers of memory and writing. The Part That Burns' powerful narrative weaves a set of essays into a story of transformation and compassion. The writer’s sensitive stories of childhood traumas foreshadow her adult capacity for forgiveness and understanding, Each essay is underscored with an element of nature. It is as if the stories are put into perspective by the tender world of nature. Mothers will relate to the writing about motherhood and its deep joys and vulnerabilities. This memoir is poetry and story combined.

You want to read this gorgeous, luminous memoir, as heart-breaking as it is redemptive. Told in fragments--like memory--some as clear and cutting as glass while others are as gauzy as dreams. Those told in the child Jeannie's voice have us rooting for her courageous spirit and grit. Others read as poetry, aching and beautiful. My first reading of this book was a compulsive straight-through. My second is slow to savor Ouellette's lyrical prose. Exquisite writing.

Jeannine Ouellette's memoir The Part That Burns shines like a prism of light and color. This fragmented/mosaic of stories is like a beautiful heirloom quilt lovingly stitched together reflecting the expert hand of its maker. Each essay, like squares of a beautiful quilt, are delicately woven together. This is a book to hold in your hands, carry in your heart, and absorb into your skin - your bones. The Part That Burns is a work of art to return to in awe and inspiration.

I read the book, "The Part that Burns" in smaller but delicious doses, saving the memoir over several days. my There are memories and events we cannot see directly, at least, not eye-to-eye. Jeannine Oulette, author and Sherpa of a tortuous but exquisitely told journey, allows us to see even when we try to squeeze our eyes tightly shut. Reading Oulette's "The Part that Burns" feels like she is standing with you, taking you by the hand as you climb this rocky path beside her, and then, full of new depth and understanding, come down the other side of the mountain. In the last steps on the journey in the chapter, Bent, we encounter Lilly, who helps us find our way and illuminate what we might have missed in our haste to rush, wet-eyed, through the hardest parts. Lilly is younger, clear-eyed, wise beyond her years and a reflecting pool for the author - and for us. You should buy this book now, so you can savor it too - or devour it whole in one night.

I absolutely love this book! It handles trauma with a sense of tenderness and shows how language can be a salve both to the writer and reader. It is a beautifully written memoir by a supremely talented writer.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir The Part That Burns is a must read!! I actually read the whole book in one sitting; I could not be pulled away from it. The second time through, I savored each fragment. Although Ouellette grapples with difficult themes and content, she employs exquisite language and true craft to weave her story. The manuscript is beautiful and uplifting. 🌸

Beautiful imagery and tragedy without martyrdom doled out with an open heart and poetic, important voice.

This is a painful story that points the way to emotional survival, a narrative that speaks directly to the soul.

For readers of Ocean Vuong, Anne Boyer, and fragmented memoirs everywhere. Ouellette's The Part That Burns is urgent and expertly crafted. Her meditation on nature left me thinking of the Buddhist meditative practice of Tonglen, as described by Pema Chodron, "when we see or feel suffering, we  breathe in with the notion of completely feeling it, accepting it, and owning it... Then we breathe out, radiating compassion, lovingkindness, freshness—anything that encourages relaxation and openness.  So you’re training in softening, rather than tightening, your heart." Because she does. She does breathe out SO MUCH BEAUTY. I cannot wait to read whatever Jeannine Ouellette comes out with next. Thank you for sharing your story and prose with the world.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir in fragments, The Part That Burns, reads like a shattered mirror that the author reassembles as you go, pulled forward by writing that’s precise and beautiful both in its parts and as a whole. Often when I read I mark sentences that shine, soar, stop me in my tracks with their potency. A good book usually has a handful, a great book more than that. This book has so many it’s hard to pull them out. I searched for a line or two that I might share here, but find myself highlighting entire paragraphs. Beyond this, the fragmented structure Ouellette employs to tell this story is itself masterful and compelling. Ouellette spans the time between her own childhood and motherhood, sharing potent memories of herself as child, daughter, mother, and the places in between, as well as the intersections between all these selves. I think again of mirrors, the ones in the fun house at the fair, where you see many reflections from many angles, some distortions of who we are, some closer to reality, but all real in that place in time, from our perspective as we look at what we see in the panels around us. Make no mistake: this narrator’s voice is clear and true, and you’ll want to know where she goes next. You’ll hold your breath at times, and you’ll pull for her to reach her destinations safely. A story of childhood sexual abuse, a story of a girl who journeys and survives, eventually thrives, this is not the usual memoir with this subject at its core. It’s a map of the path this narrator took, not in sequence, but the way you would hear it if she told it to a friend, or a therapist, in remembered pieces, so you come to the whole almost by surprise, with a little gasp of wow as you see where she ends up. Very highly recommended.

Just like those times when you fall in love with a painting and wish you could paint, or hear a heart-warming piece of music and wish you could compose, this book will make you wish that you had magical powers of memory and writing. The Part That Burns' powerful narrative weaves a set of essays into a story of transformation and compassion. The writer’s sensitive stories of childhood traumas foreshadow her adult capacity for forgiveness and understanding, Each essay is underscored with an element of nature. It is as if the stories are put into perspective by the tender world of nature. Mothers will relate to the writing about motherhood and its deep joys and vulnerabilities. This memoir is poetry and story combined.

Like the fire lilies that “are coaxed open only by smoke,” this memoir illuminates how extraordinary life – our emotions, our decisions, our memories – can be. Emerging from this collage of stories feels like waking up from a vivid dream. I felt like I was right alongside the author, experiencing each vignette of her memory…beautiful and so purely human. She activates all the senses – recalling the scent of the air in Wyoming, and later in Cuernavaca; the flavors of different places and times; music that marks the turning of new years – and never leaves the reader wondering how it felt to experience these remarkable and often painful moments of life. Emerging from this dream state, I am left feeling introspective and wanting, already, to reread this book.

In the quiet of my home, while reading this book, I found myself talking to it. I'd occasionally surprise myself when hearing my voice say, "noooo" or "wow" or when I'd erupt into a shout of laughter or a groan of dismay. In short, it transported me. It transported me with visceral and concise language that allowed the stories to unspool themselves into my mind's eye. Also, its clarity of experience and the craft of empathy transported me into that space that is most tender near the bone, where our humanity can both bind and betray us to each other. This book is beautiful, enrapturing, and a powerful hymn to survival surrendering itself to blossoming.

This memoir, written in fragments, touches universal emotions and edges them with real life dogs, jackalopes, pregnancies, and fire lilies. The author and her daughter recall memories and retold stories from different points of view. Her method works and entices us with each essay. Open your heart, read, and savor each word.

I don't usually write reviews for Amazon purchases but this book is truly something special. It captures what it means to pay attention, to yourself, your body, your life. By tracing a history of trauma and resilience through a lifetime and generation it reminded me that the cracks in my own life may be opening to create room for growth.

This memoir-in-fragments has all the markings of can't-put-down story-craft but make no mistake: the intent is to brave the traumas that our brains and bodies can spend years or lifetimes trying to forget. Ultimately, this is a redemption story for every woman who has ever been told she is broken or not enough, and a light to becoming 'more than', anyway.

This book is exquisite. The words are gorgeous and you want to let them sink in and stay with you for a long time. There’s heartbreak and deep pain in the stories but there’s sweetness too. You are left with a sense of triumph and joy as the stories take on a new life with Ouellette’s daughter. You won’t want to put this down, you’ll want to read it in one sitting and then immediately read it again, and maybe one more time too.

Against a vivid backdrop of childhood homes, adolescent bravura, and the unleashed emotions of motherhood, this beautiful “memoir in fragments” sorts through the narrator’s early childhood abuse and further trauma at the hands of her volatile mother. The story itself is clear-eyed and lyrical. Episodes and memories fold back on themselves as new indignities cast light on the past and connect to the future: the manipulative boyfriend who turns “I love you” into a lesson; the sidestepping mother who demands the narrator drop her self-pity; the nervy journey to find a surrogate mother; the realization that one generation’s fire scars the next generation’s land; the intermingling of mother-daughter stories; the joy of motherhood alongside the affirmation, “My story is not my mother’s story.” The Part That Burns is an affirmation, an accessible depiction of how we live on with our scars.

"The part that burns also glows." Not since reading BASTARD OUT OF CAROLINA have I felt so seen and moved and wowed. I'm sad and angry that Ouellette and I share a history of childhood sexual abuse, and more. I'm heartened and amazed by her resilience and brilliance, and the defiant, graceful beauty she's wrought from the brutal. Through its notable brevity, structure, prose, subtlety, nuance, layers, wisdom, and compassion, THE PART THAT BURNS is a master class in memoir, and living. I loved it.

Jeannine Ouellette masterfully tells her compelling story with a raw and gorgeous beauty, allowing readers to embrace the spirit of a young girl/woman who not only survives, but soars, despite massive roadblocks of cruelty and abandonment. Devastating and lovely, honest and bold, this book is a testament of human strength and insight, told with purest poetic grace. I echo Dorothy Allison and remain astonishingly grateful.

Jeannine Ouellette threads lyrical fragments together to tell her story of a girlhood traumatized by abuse. Her story examines the encoding of this damage physically and emotionally until Ouellette creates a path to happiness through her own resilience, drive, and desire. Luminous images organized by theme, motif, and proximity give the reader opportunities to create cause and effect theories, and a chronological timeline that may or may not reflect actual events. Like a detective, we are more engaged with motivation than outcome. In the final pages, Ouellette exchanges versions of memories and family stories with her daughter, revealing how much generational trauma may live within our corporeal selves. Overall, such an exquisite dive into the female experience written in deliciously elegant language. A book to savor and return to again.

You want to read this gorgeous, luminous memoir, as heart-breaking as it is redemptive. Told in fragments--like memory--some as clear and cutting as glass while others are as gauzy as dreams. Those told in the child Jeannie's voice have us rooting for her courageous spirit and grit. Others read as poetry, aching and beautiful. My first reading of this book was a compulsive straight-through. My second is slow to savor Ouellette's lyrical prose. Exquisite writing.

Jeannine Ouellette's memoir The Part That Burns shines like a prism of light and color. This fragmented/mosaic of stories is like a beautiful heirloom quilt lovingly stitched together reflecting the expert hand of its maker. Each essay, like squares of a beautiful quilt, are delicately woven together. This is a book to hold in your hands, carry in your heart, and absorb into your skin - your bones. The Part That Burns is a work of art to return to in awe and inspiration.

I read the book, "The Part that Burns" in smaller but delicious doses, saving the memoir over several days. my There are memories and events we cannot see directly, at least, not eye-to-eye. Jeannine Oulette, author and Sherpa of a tortuous but exquisitely told journey, allows us to see even when we try to squeeze our eyes tightly shut. Reading Oulette's "The Part that Burns" feels like she is standing with you, taking you by the hand as you climb this rocky path beside her, and then, full of new depth and understanding, come down the other side of the mountain. In the last steps on the journey in the chapter, Bent, we encounter Lilly, who helps us find our way and illuminate what we might have missed in our haste to rush, wet-eyed, through the hardest parts. Lilly is younger, clear-eyed, wise beyond her years and a reflecting pool for the author - and for us. You should buy this book now, so you can savor it too - or devour it whole in one night.

I absolutely love this book! It handles trauma with a sense of tenderness and shows how language can be a salve both to the writer and reader. It is a beautifully written memoir by a supremely talented writer.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir The Part That Burns is a must read!! I actually read the whole book in one sitting; I could not be pulled away from it. The second time through, I savored each fragment. Although Ouellette grapples with difficult themes and content, she employs exquisite language and true craft to weave her story. The manuscript is beautiful and uplifting. 🌸

Beautiful imagery and tragedy without martyrdom doled out with an open heart and poetic, important voice.

This is a painful story that points the way to emotional survival, a narrative that speaks directly to the soul.

For readers of Ocean Vuong, Anne Boyer, and fragmented memoirs everywhere. Ouellette's The Part That Burns is urgent and expertly crafted. Her meditation on nature left me thinking of the Buddhist meditative practice of Tonglen, as described by Pema Chodron, "when we see or feel suffering, we  breathe in with the notion of completely feeling it, accepting it, and owning it... Then we breathe out, radiating compassion, lovingkindness, freshness—anything that encourages relaxation and openness.  So you’re training in softening, rather than tightening, your heart." Because she does. She does breathe out SO MUCH BEAUTY. I cannot wait to read whatever Jeannine Ouellette comes out with next. Thank you for sharing your story and prose with the world.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir in fragments, The Part That Burns, reads like a shattered mirror that the author reassembles as you go, pulled forward by writing that’s precise and beautiful both in its parts and as a whole. Often when I read I mark sentences that shine, soar, stop me in my tracks with their potency. A good book usually has a handful, a great book more than that. This book has so many it’s hard to pull them out. I searched for a line or two that I might share here, but find myself highlighting entire paragraphs. Beyond this, the fragmented structure Ouellette employs to tell this story is itself masterful and compelling. Ouellette spans the time between her own childhood and motherhood, sharing potent memories of herself as child, daughter, mother, and the places in between, as well as the intersections between all these selves. I think again of mirrors, the ones in the fun house at the fair, where you see many reflections from many angles, some distortions of who we are, some closer to reality, but all real in that place in time, from our perspective as we look at what we see in the panels around us. Make no mistake: this narrator’s voice is clear and true, and you’ll want to know where she goes next. You’ll hold your breath at times, and you’ll pull for her to reach her destinations safely. A story of childhood sexual abuse, a story of a girl who journeys and survives, eventually thrives, this is not the usual memoir with this subject at its core. It’s a map of the path this narrator took, not in sequence, but the way you would hear it if she told it to a friend, or a therapist, in remembered pieces, so you come to the whole almost by surprise, with a little gasp of wow as you see where she ends up. Very highly recommended.

Just like those times when you fall in love with a painting and wish you could paint, or hear a heart-warming piece of music and wish you could compose, this book will make you wish that you had magical powers of memory and writing. The Part That Burns' powerful narrative weaves a set of essays into a story of transformation and compassion. The writer’s sensitive stories of childhood traumas foreshadow her adult capacity for forgiveness and understanding, Each essay is underscored with an element of nature. It is as if the stories are put into perspective by the tender world of nature. Mothers will relate to the writing about motherhood and its deep joys and vulnerabilities. This memoir is poetry and story combined.

You have to surrender to this book, as it's not a conventional memoir. But once you do, it will absolutely floor you in the best possible way. (Note that I received a review copy of this book but with no expectation that I would write a review.)

What a journey. I found myself both compelled to keep picking this book up and having to put it down at turns to absorb the images and breathe through the author's searing recollections. Each story shimmers with truth and hope, and had me rethinking of my own foundational pain in a transformed light. The fragmented format works so well here, keeping the narrative super readable and accessible. Brilliant.

The use of language in this memoir-in-fragments is exquisite. The stories, on some very tough subjects, are written with an exacting, poetic sensibility. Sections of the book are written from a crystal clear child's perspective. I found myself often holding my breath while reading--sometimes from events revealed and sometimes from the beauty of the writing. I will be sharing this book with my book club and everyone else I know who appreciates an artful and moving read. And I'll be watching for Ouellette's future publications.

I don't usually gravitate to memoirs; but a friend recently gave me a copy of Jeannine Ouellette's The Part That Burns, assuring me that while I might find parts of it hard to read (she knows well my sensitivity to the suffering of others), I would be blown away by the brilliant writing. She was definitely spot on! I couldn't put the book down. I was totally caught up in the author's experiences: first, as a bright, sensitive child trying to navigate through her dysfunctional and abusive home life, and later as she moved through her adult years dealing with the scars she carried from her past. Definitely one of the most moving, troubling, and (ultimately) redemptive books I've ever read.

I love Jeannine's ability to create a beautiful piece of art out of the many things in life that exist at once. The fragments she writes come together to create a brutal yet tender understanding of the whole. The body frozen and disassociated from the self and that "the body knows what it knows." A girl traumatized yet she is also a woman able to find healing in motherhood. A beautiful narrative of unique stories that become more than their separate parts. Jeanine has a strong will and yet a vulnerable openness. What a gift she has given in sharing some pieces of her life.

Eloquent. A beautiful, poetic story of childhood trauma and survival. The bravest and strongest people are those that understand that life is never perfect. Life is a journey. Sometimes it is hard. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. As adults we get to choose our path. We get to decide that we are worthy of love. We decide how to love our family and the people in our lives. We get to decide that we want more! Ouellette’s story will touch your soul! I am looking forward to her next book!

Jeannine Ouellette is a brave woman, but I think she might deny that. This is not a long book; in fact, I have the impression that it could have easily been twice the length that it is. "The Part That Burns" hopscotches through time in a loop of snapshots of the author's life and I have the feeling that each story she tells is carefully curated. Her writing is spare and rich at the same time. I appreciate (and even envy...) her ability to write prose that is saturated in poetry without seeming pompous or self-important. It is obvious that these small stories have lived inside of her for years, writing and rewriting themselves, and that it is a great relief to them to finally be on the page. This is a difficult book to read. Or, I should say, this was a difficult book for *me* to read, but I suspect that will be the case for many readers, especially women. Ms. Ouellette - perhaps intentionally, perhaps unknowingly - has written a shared story, a woman's story. Sexual abuse, the awkwardness of youth, crazy mothers, unsatisfying sex, the loneliness of marriage, the fierce joy of motherhood: to say that the subject matter is relatable is an understatement. And so yeah, it's tough. Ms. Ouellette courageously dredges up from the muck of time and memory the kind of pain and shame and stale fear that I think most of us would happily leave buried. And still, the writing isn't pitiful or self-indulgent or whiny. It's a brave and self-confronting documentary: These things happened and here I am. I think I'll probably read it again.

This is a story about giving voice to all the pieces of one’s life, rendered with devastating beauty, heart, and artistry. We see Ouellette as a child, searching wild, unending landscapes for doorways to other dimensions of understanding and safety. Then she is a young wife, then a young mother, hypnotically looping back again and again to make sense of the devastating memories that won’t let her go. Like lacy tumbleweeds finally uprooted and taking to air, this is a story of flight. Her flight on black-as-space country roads; her flight to reach a faraway mother figure who once said she cared; and the flight of her deepest-down words, finally taking to air for those who must hear them. I loved every moment of this book.

I finished this fabulous memoir wishing I knew myself as well as Jeannine Oullette and her daughter know her. I wish for that degree of honesty and that ability to make sense out of memory. I wish that I had written my story. So beautifully written.

I’m on my second trip through this memoir. It’s structurally interesting and innovative; also, poetic and unflinching. Ouellette lives close to the bone, and it’s this voice that permeates her writing. Read this book. It’s like holding a snowflake in your hand, and miraculously, it doesn’t melt, so for the first time you can admire both its symmetry and its fragility at once.

You want to read this gorgeous, luminous memoir, as heart-breaking as it is redemptive. Told in fragments--like memory--some as clear and cutting as glass while others are as gauzy as dreams. Those told in the child Jeannie's voice have us rooting for her courageous spirit and grit. Others read as poetry, aching and beautiful. My first reading of this book was a compulsive straight-through. My second is slow to savor Ouellette's lyrical prose. Exquisite writing.

Jeannine Ouellette's memoir The Part That Burns shines like a prism of light and color. This fragmented/mosaic of stories is like a beautiful heirloom quilt lovingly stitched together reflecting the expert hand of its maker. Each essay, like squares of a beautiful quilt, are delicately woven together. This is a book to hold in your hands, carry in your heart, and absorb into your skin - your bones. The Part That Burns is a work of art to return to in awe and inspiration.

I read the book, "The Part that Burns" in smaller but delicious doses, saving the memoir over several days. my There are memories and events we cannot see directly, at least, not eye-to-eye. Jeannine Oulette, author and Sherpa of a tortuous but exquisitely told journey, allows us to see even when we try to squeeze our eyes tightly shut. Reading Oulette's "The Part that Burns" feels like she is standing with you, taking you by the hand as you climb this rocky path beside her, and then, full of new depth and understanding, come down the other side of the mountain. In the last steps on the journey in the chapter, Bent, we encounter Lilly, who helps us find our way and illuminate what we might have missed in our haste to rush, wet-eyed, through the hardest parts. Lilly is younger, clear-eyed, wise beyond her years and a reflecting pool for the author - and for us. You should buy this book now, so you can savor it too - or devour it whole in one night.

I absolutely love this book! It handles trauma with a sense of tenderness and shows how language can be a salve both to the writer and reader. It is a beautifully written memoir by a supremely talented writer.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir The Part That Burns is a must read!! I actually read the whole book in one sitting; I could not be pulled away from it. The second time through, I savored each fragment. Although Ouellette grapples with difficult themes and content, she employs exquisite language and true craft to weave her story. The manuscript is beautiful and uplifting. 🌸

Beautiful imagery and tragedy without martyrdom doled out with an open heart and poetic, important voice.

This is a painful story that points the way to emotional survival, a narrative that speaks directly to the soul.

For readers of Ocean Vuong, Anne Boyer, and fragmented memoirs everywhere. Ouellette's The Part That Burns is urgent and expertly crafted. Her meditation on nature left me thinking of the Buddhist meditative practice of Tonglen, as described by Pema Chodron, "when we see or feel suffering, we  breathe in with the notion of completely feeling it, accepting it, and owning it... Then we breathe out, radiating compassion, lovingkindness, freshness—anything that encourages relaxation and openness.  So you’re training in softening, rather than tightening, your heart." Because she does. She does breathe out SO MUCH BEAUTY. I cannot wait to read whatever Jeannine Ouellette comes out with next. Thank you for sharing your story and prose with the world.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir in fragments, The Part That Burns, reads like a shattered mirror that the author reassembles as you go, pulled forward by writing that’s precise and beautiful both in its parts and as a whole. Often when I read I mark sentences that shine, soar, stop me in my tracks with their potency. A good book usually has a handful, a great book more than that. This book has so many it’s hard to pull them out. I searched for a line or two that I might share here, but find myself highlighting entire paragraphs. Beyond this, the fragmented structure Ouellette employs to tell this story is itself masterful and compelling. Ouellette spans the time between her own childhood and motherhood, sharing potent memories of herself as child, daughter, mother, and the places in between, as well as the intersections between all these selves. I think again of mirrors, the ones in the fun house at the fair, where you see many reflections from many angles, some distortions of who we are, some closer to reality, but all real in that place in time, from our perspective as we look at what we see in the panels around us. Make no mistake: this narrator’s voice is clear and true, and you’ll want to know where she goes next. You’ll hold your breath at times, and you’ll pull for her to reach her destinations safely. A story of childhood sexual abuse, a story of a girl who journeys and survives, eventually thrives, this is not the usual memoir with this subject at its core. It’s a map of the path this narrator took, not in sequence, but the way you would hear it if she told it to a friend, or a therapist, in remembered pieces, so you come to the whole almost by surprise, with a little gasp of wow as you see where she ends up. Very highly recommended.

Just like those times when you fall in love with a painting and wish you could paint, or hear a heart-warming piece of music and wish you could compose, this book will make you wish that you had magical powers of memory and writing. The Part That Burns' powerful narrative weaves a set of essays into a story of transformation and compassion. The writer’s sensitive stories of childhood traumas foreshadow her adult capacity for forgiveness and understanding, Each essay is underscored with an element of nature. It is as if the stories are put into perspective by the tender world of nature. Mothers will relate to the writing about motherhood and its deep joys and vulnerabilities. This memoir is poetry and story combined.

I was given an advanced copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. I loved this book! The prose is liquid gold poured onto the page. The stories are gut-wrenching. The author also uses a clever format which, as a writer, I thought worked perfectly. Welcome to the world, “The Part That Burns”-you are magnificent.

Written in a style that is so pure, yet artfully crafted, instantly draws in the reader. Ouellette's storytelling is done through a weaving of anecdotes into an intriguing tapestry. There are absolutely parts that burn. The dialog between mother and daughter from one generation to the next left me with an array of emotion, and a reflection of my own journey as both daughter and mother. The book stayed with me and continues to pop into my mind, weeks after finishing.

I loved The Part That Burns! I read it in one sitting because I couldn’t put it down. The flow, voice, characters, tone— all solid and true! I was particularly touched and amazed at how the mother/daughter relationship was creatively integrated at the end of the story. This is a moving narrative about growing up in dysfunction and finding your way. A hope-filled message, without pulling any punches!

The Part That Burns shook me up. Ms. O does the heavy lifting. Speaking bare, merciless bones in tender, vulnerable, clear prose -- what must be said, must be heard, must be known. I closed the book and wept.

This memoir is fresh, new. It is both accessible and tough. Foreign and familiar. I don't have children but I feel brought intimately into the author's experience of motherhood. The book shows me another way we humans persevere. I highly recommend it.

This gorgeous, lyrical, fractured narrative comes together to form a whole more beautiful and powerful because of it's brokenness. Motherhood and memory combine to meditate on what we carry with us and what we pass on to our children. I loved everything about this book.

What an extraordinary, unexpected delight. I was stunned by the precision of detail and voice in this fractured memoir. Characters are deftly, tenderly, rendered, yet Ouellette's attention also smolders, eviscerates. These are stories felt deep in the body, and will remain with me for a long time.

This book is wonderfully written!

Jeannine's memory fragments create a whole vision of a woman coming into her own skin. In reading, I felt I was present on her journey of healing. It questions what seeps through generations and affirms that love and life can grow in the cracks. Some parts are pure poetry, and I have read them again and again; for example when writing about her newborn daughter or the chapter called "Wingless Bodies." I have attended several of Jeannine's writing classes and have always grown leaps under her wing!

I agree with Dorothy Allison: I’m grateful that this book is in the world. It feels like a tapestry, something to fall into, with many voices interwoven: the author at different ages, even her daughter’s voice, but all draw you in and keep you reading to the last page. Highly recommended.

You want to read this gorgeous, luminous memoir, as heart-breaking as it is redemptive. Told in fragments--like memory--some as clear and cutting as glass while others are as gauzy as dreams. Those told in the child Jeannie's voice have us rooting for her courageous spirit and grit. Others read as poetry, aching and beautiful. My first reading of this book was a compulsive straight-through. My second is slow to savor Ouellette's lyrical prose. Exquisite writing.

Jeannine Ouellette's memoir The Part That Burns shines like a prism of light and color. This fragmented/mosaic of stories is like a beautiful heirloom quilt lovingly stitched together reflecting the expert hand of its maker. Each essay, like squares of a beautiful quilt, are delicately woven together. This is a book to hold in your hands, carry in your heart, and absorb into your skin - your bones. The Part That Burns is a work of art to return to in awe and inspiration.

I read the book, "The Part that Burns" in smaller but delicious doses, saving the memoir over several days. my There are memories and events we cannot see directly, at least, not eye-to-eye. Jeannine Oulette, author and Sherpa of a tortuous but exquisitely told journey, allows us to see even when we try to squeeze our eyes tightly shut. Reading Oulette's "The Part that Burns" feels like she is standing with you, taking you by the hand as you climb this rocky path beside her, and then, full of new depth and understanding, come down the other side of the mountain. In the last steps on the journey in the chapter, Bent, we encounter Lilly, who helps us find our way and illuminate what we might have missed in our haste to rush, wet-eyed, through the hardest parts. Lilly is younger, clear-eyed, wise beyond her years and a reflecting pool for the author - and for us. You should buy this book now, so you can savor it too - or devour it whole in one night.

I absolutely love this book! It handles trauma with a sense of tenderness and shows how language can be a salve both to the writer and reader. It is a beautifully written memoir by a supremely talented writer.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir The Part That Burns is a must read!! I actually read the whole book in one sitting; I could not be pulled away from it. The second time through, I savored each fragment. Although Ouellette grapples with difficult themes and content, she employs exquisite language and true craft to weave her story. The manuscript is beautiful and uplifting. 🌸

Beautiful imagery and tragedy without martyrdom doled out with an open heart and poetic, important voice.

This is a painful story that points the way to emotional survival, a narrative that speaks directly to the soul.

For readers of Ocean Vuong, Anne Boyer, and fragmented memoirs everywhere. Ouellette's The Part That Burns is urgent and expertly crafted. Her meditation on nature left me thinking of the Buddhist meditative practice of Tonglen, as described by Pema Chodron, "when we see or feel suffering, we  breathe in with the notion of completely feeling it, accepting it, and owning it... Then we breathe out, radiating compassion, lovingkindness, freshness—anything that encourages relaxation and openness.  So you’re training in softening, rather than tightening, your heart." Because she does. She does breathe out SO MUCH BEAUTY. I cannot wait to read whatever Jeannine Ouellette comes out with next. Thank you for sharing your story and prose with the world.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir in fragments, The Part That Burns, reads like a shattered mirror that the author reassembles as you go, pulled forward by writing that’s precise and beautiful both in its parts and as a whole. Often when I read I mark sentences that shine, soar, stop me in my tracks with their potency. A good book usually has a handful, a great book more than that. This book has so many it’s hard to pull them out. I searched for a line or two that I might share here, but find myself highlighting entire paragraphs. Beyond this, the fragmented structure Ouellette employs to tell this story is itself masterful and compelling. Ouellette spans the time between her own childhood and motherhood, sharing potent memories of herself as child, daughter, mother, and the places in between, as well as the intersections between all these selves. I think again of mirrors, the ones in the fun house at the fair, where you see many reflections from many angles, some distortions of who we are, some closer to reality, but all real in that place in time, from our perspective as we look at what we see in the panels around us. Make no mistake: this narrator’s voice is clear and true, and you’ll want to know where she goes next. You’ll hold your breath at times, and you’ll pull for her to reach her destinations safely. A story of childhood sexual abuse, a story of a girl who journeys and survives, eventually thrives, this is not the usual memoir with this subject at its core. It’s a map of the path this narrator took, not in sequence, but the way you would hear it if she told it to a friend, or a therapist, in remembered pieces, so you come to the whole almost by surprise, with a little gasp of wow as you see where she ends up. Very highly recommended.

Just like those times when you fall in love with a painting and wish you could paint, or hear a heart-warming piece of music and wish you could compose, this book will make you wish that you had magical powers of memory and writing. The Part That Burns' powerful narrative weaves a set of essays into a story of transformation and compassion. The writer’s sensitive stories of childhood traumas foreshadow her adult capacity for forgiveness and understanding, Each essay is underscored with an element of nature. It is as if the stories are put into perspective by the tender world of nature. Mothers will relate to the writing about motherhood and its deep joys and vulnerabilities. This memoir is poetry and story combined.

I couldn't put this memoir down. The author paints a vivid picture of childhood, motherhood, friendship, and an amazing adventure to Mexico in language that is evocative, accessible, and transporting. Fast read with images and moments that will linger long after you've finished.

Jeaninne gives us a poetic and honest glimpse along the narrator's life in a direct and intimate way. In turn giving space to reflect on life and how all pieces connect no matter if they burn.

Oh my goodness it’s just so beautiful. Whimsical, sad, sparkling, hopeful. The best thing I’ve read in a very long time.

Intimate and searing, this book is a gift to the world, and a must-read, if there ever was one.

I couldn't put this book down. It made me feel like I was there, going through the same events right with the author!

A masterful, breathtaking memoir. Written in a series of interwoven stories that move back and forth through time the way memory loops and gathers in the mind, each page is a revelation, an opening into a rich and delicious world. I savored every line.

A fabulous writer and powerful story.

An indelible story of cellular memory and the impact of being human. Bravo!

You want to read this gorgeous, luminous memoir, as heart-breaking as it is redemptive. Told in fragments--like memory--some as clear and cutting as glass while others are as gauzy as dreams. Those told in the child Jeannie's voice have us rooting for her courageous spirit and grit. Others read as poetry, aching and beautiful. My first reading of this book was a compulsive straight-through. My second is slow to savor Ouellette's lyrical prose. Exquisite writing.

Jeannine Ouellette's memoir The Part That Burns shines like a prism of light and color. This fragmented/mosaic of stories is like a beautiful heirloom quilt lovingly stitched together reflecting the expert hand of its maker. Each essay, like squares of a beautiful quilt, are delicately woven together. This is a book to hold in your hands, carry in your heart, and absorb into your skin - your bones. The Part That Burns is a work of art to return to in awe and inspiration.

I read the book, "The Part that Burns" in smaller but delicious doses, saving the memoir over several days. my There are memories and events we cannot see directly, at least, not eye-to-eye. Jeannine Oulette, author and Sherpa of a tortuous but exquisitely told journey, allows us to see even when we try to squeeze our eyes tightly shut. Reading Oulette's "The Part that Burns" feels like she is standing with you, taking you by the hand as you climb this rocky path beside her, and then, full of new depth and understanding, come down the other side of the mountain. In the last steps on the journey in the chapter, Bent, we encounter Lilly, who helps us find our way and illuminate what we might have missed in our haste to rush, wet-eyed, through the hardest parts. Lilly is younger, clear-eyed, wise beyond her years and a reflecting pool for the author - and for us. You should buy this book now, so you can savor it too - or devour it whole in one night.

I absolutely love this book! It handles trauma with a sense of tenderness and shows how language can be a salve both to the writer and reader. It is a beautifully written memoir by a supremely talented writer.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir The Part That Burns is a must read!! I actually read the whole book in one sitting; I could not be pulled away from it. The second time through, I savored each fragment. Although Ouellette grapples with difficult themes and content, she employs exquisite language and true craft to weave her story. The manuscript is beautiful and uplifting. 🌸

Beautiful imagery and tragedy without martyrdom doled out with an open heart and poetic, important voice.

This is a painful story that points the way to emotional survival, a narrative that speaks directly to the soul.

For readers of Ocean Vuong, Anne Boyer, and fragmented memoirs everywhere. Ouellette's The Part That Burns is urgent and expertly crafted. Her meditation on nature left me thinking of the Buddhist meditative practice of Tonglen, as described by Pema Chodron, "when we see or feel suffering, we  breathe in with the notion of completely feeling it, accepting it, and owning it... Then we breathe out, radiating compassion, lovingkindness, freshness—anything that encourages relaxation and openness.  So you’re training in softening, rather than tightening, your heart." Because she does. She does breathe out SO MUCH BEAUTY. I cannot wait to read whatever Jeannine Ouellette comes out with next. Thank you for sharing your story and prose with the world.

Jeannine Ouellette’s memoir in fragments, The Part That Burns, reads like a shattered mirror that the author reassembles as you go, pulled forward by writing that’s precise and beautiful both in its parts and as a whole. Often when I read I mark sentences that shine, soar, stop me in my tracks with their potency. A good book usually has a handful, a great book more than that. This book has so many it’s hard to pull them out. I searched for a line or two that I might share here, but find myself highlighting entire paragraphs. Beyond this, the fragmented structure Ouellette employs to tell this story is itself masterful and compelling. Ouellette spans the time between her own childhood and motherhood, sharing potent memories of herself as child, daughter, mother, and the places in between, as well as the intersections between all these selves. I think again of mirrors, the ones in the fun house at the fair, where you see many reflections from many angles, some distortions of who we are, some closer to reality, but all real in that place in time, from our perspective as we look at what we see in the panels around us. Make no mistake: this narrator’s voice is clear and true, and you’ll want to know where she goes next. You’ll hold your breath at times, and you’ll pull for her to reach her destinations safely. A story of childhood sexual abuse, a story of a girl who journeys and survives, eventually thrives, this is not the usual memoir with this subject at its core. It’s a map of the path this narrator took, not in sequence, but the way you would hear it if she told it to a friend, or a therapist, in remembered pieces, so you come to the whole almost by surprise, with a little gasp of wow as you see where she ends up. Very highly recommended.

Just like those times when you fall in love with a painting and wish you could paint, or hear a heart-warming piece of music and wish you could compose, this book will make you wish that you had magical powers of memory and writing. The Part That Burns' powerful narrative weaves a set of essays into a story of transformation and compassion. The writer’s sensitive stories of childhood traumas foreshadow her adult capacity for forgiveness and understanding, Each essay is underscored with an element of nature. It is as if the stories are put into perspective by the tender world of nature. Mothers will relate to the writing about motherhood and its deep joys and vulnerabilities. This memoir is poetry and story combined.