Chomp, Chomp, Chomp

December 7, 2015
First-time memoirist Hansen has an incredible story to tell of getting mauled by a black bear. The animal tore open her jaw, lips, and forehead. She had to drive herself three miles to safety, and then she endured extensive medical and financial battles over the next three years. Hansen is a good storyteller who provides an abundance of shocking detail interlaced with humor: “I want to remember everything so I can tell people the story. But all I can think is: My fucking insurance policy isn’t going to cover this.” The first two sections of the book cover her early life in Southern California, where she struggled to figure out her identity in the cocaine-fueled 1970s, and meander somewhat as Hansen details her many troubled relationships, as well as the birth of her beloved son. The final third of the book picks up as she recounts the attack and its aftermath, including dodging the hordes of media people who want to tell her story. In a way, her hardships helped her shape her life story into something that makes sense to her: “These Frankenstein stitches just sort of blend into the person I’ve always known is inside of my outsides.”