Grab the Lapels

Fatty Fatty Boom Boom by Rabia Chaudry

Reviewing and discussing books by and about fat women is getting harder. Because society has strong feelings against fat bodies, most books I read have cruel comments by both the fat protagonist and others. When we hear the message about dieting long enough, whether it’s to find a spouse, look prettier, get a promotion, or promote scary rhetoric about health, we internalize the message. I’m guilty of this. Thus, I shouldn’t hold Rabia Chaudry to higher standards.

Fatty Fatty Boom Boom is a memoir by a Pakistani-American lawyer. As I read, I hoped the book would focus more on her famous legal case defending Adnan Syed, but it’s a weight loss journey sort of memoir. The reason I kept reading is Chaudry has an amazing talent for capturing places and people. Whether it’s the motorbikes and street vendors in Pakistan or the food she cooked at home and the fast food she lived on for years, I got a sense of how place and culture affected Chaudry’s body.

Fatty Fatty Boom Boom comes from the name Chaudry’s fat uncle called her. She was born in Pakistan, but her family immigrates to the U.S. Chaudry was a small, jaundiced baby, so her mother asks mothers in her American Pakistani group what to do. Misunderstanding the advice, her mother feeds Chaudry two bottles of heavy cream every day. When Chaudry began teething, they let her chew on cold sticks of butter. After her sister was born and they go to Pakistan for a long visit, Chaudry’s family make the decision to leave the sister in Pakistan with family while the Chaudry’s return to the U.S.. She writes, “But these are the choices immigrants often face—whom to leave behind, when, and for how long.” Thus, Chaudry and her sister were raised on different cultures’ foods: the Pakistani dishes with local produce and spices versus McDonald’s and its fast food cousins.

I’ll skip quite a bit of the author’s life so you can read it yourself, but there were some key moments that stood out to me. Firstly, the heaviest weight the author reports, one that was obscene to her, was 234 pounds at 5’4″. It’s weird to read a book in which one person thinks they’re a monster, but they’re almost the same size as you. In fact, many books with fat protagonists purposefully make the choice to not disclose which weights or clothing sizes are monstrously fat because that number doesn’t exist for one person alone. I thought it was a misstep in Chaudry’s memoir.

In fact, her disgust at her size seemed a pittance compared to a story that happened when she visited Pakistan again as an adult. She is with her uncle, the fat one, and he takes her around the city. They end up at a temple, and he covers his head worshipfully. Chaudry is awed by his respect because he seems greedy most of the time, but then it happens:

“I looked around and saw a line of impoverished-looking people, raggedy children and bone-thin ancient elders, congregated off to the side, watching us and waiting to get their food. . . . it was one of the best meals I’d had in my life. . . . I politely dabbed the grease from the corners of my mouth, my back turned to the line of people still waiting for their portions, put the plate down on a peeling wooden stool outside the kitchen, and walked away, head held straight.”

How. How did she hold her head straight? I may be reading too in depth, but being told “no” and that she’s too fat for love may have led this lawyer to see herself as not deserving, and in this one moment she got what she wanted. There is no follow-up reflection on her greed, or that her uncle bribed the temple people so he could eat the food reserved for the starving poor. Instead, Chaudry goes home to rounds of disordered eating, of restriction and then eating until her stretchy Punjabi pants squeeze her. Again, why did I keep reading? I saw Fatty Fatty Boom Boom as less of a weight loss celebration/struggle journey and more a woman out of control of her life. Be it her body, her future husband that everyone starts thinking about when Pakistani girls are still, well, girls, or her career choice (she was supposed to be a doctor), Chaudry is not in control.

Shame makes people do horrible things, and Chaudry reveals ways in which she endangered herself to be thin so she could be in control. After she married and had children, she admits, “My resistance to learning how much I weighed was so strong I refused to return to the ob-gyn for so my postpregnancy checkups.” You know that part when you arrive and the nurse weighs you? That is why she skipped doctors visits.

Later, she’s convinced she needs bariatric surgery. Why did I keep reading? Chaudry gave an honest account of what post-surgery was like. Many writers claim they became thin and it was great, but Chaudry confesses, “Two days later [after gastric sleeve surgery] I was home, and the following few weeks I alternated between mild and extreme regret.” She describes how drinking water too fast made her throw up, and it took years before she could just drink water normally again. She didn’t have meat. She had tiny bites and just kept throwing up from hew stomach being too small to hold even a reasonable portion of food.

At the end of the memoir, Chaudry shares Pakistani recipes, explaining how she makes them and what the ingredients mean, like “besan,” and how Pakistani food is different from Indian food. The memoir is well written and interesting, a great way to get to know Pakistani culture better. I cared about this person. Some of the negative self-talk can be challenging, and every time she convinces herself she’ll just try harder (I hear echoes of Baxter saying he’ll just work harder in Animal Farm) she becomes disappointed. There is no “try harder” for low self-esteem and its various manifestations.

Also, I learned Chaudry already wrote a book about being a lawyer, Adnan’s Story: The Search for Truth and Justice After Serial, so I can go back to that when I’m ready.

36 comments

  1. Hmm. I’m glad to read what you have to say, but think I’ll stay away from reading this book right now. The surgery is, as you say, a bridge too far.

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    • Jeanne, I would love to talk about this more. As I read books by and about fat women, I find myself so torn. It’s like this woman was happy with getting smaller and sad about getting bigger and then was just happy to accept herself, and I can’t tell if I’m settling for diet stories that are apologetic and labeling those as empowering. It’s almost like the frog that was slowly boiled to death. It’s me; I’m the frog, and memoirs like this are the boiling water.

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      • I’ll be glad to think and talk about it more. I think you’re right, that we kind of adapt ourselves–fit ourselves into the traditional small female mold–when we’re reading about someone’s experience, whether fictional or real (or some combination).

        I think often you are the frog. I am often the frog, too. It’s tough to assert our size and slipperiness in the face of so many apologetic diet stories.

        One of the things I like about the younger generation and how they sometimes talk to each other, on Tumblr for instance, is that they try to call a spade a spade. I had someone there (who probably thought I was 14) tell me not to use the term “women of size” but the more inclusive “fat fucks”

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        • Jeanne, I read this and barked out such a sharp, loud laugh that I scared the crap out of my husband, so then I had to read your comment to him. Of course, he was rolling with laughter. I love this comment so much, and I’ll keep it in mind when I read my next “fat fucks” book.

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  2. My sister considered having surgery about 15 years ago but thankfully never went through with it after she did more research regarding complications, etc.

    Are you going to make any of the Pakistani recipes?

    Does Chuadry end the memoir in a good place? I mean, does she make peace with herself and and body and stop trying all the weight loss things and stop with the self-loathing?

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    • I’m glad your sister changed her mind. It’s a dangerous surgery, and I think people are scared into it.

      I don’t plan on making any of the recipes because they are hours of work per meal.

      I was just leaving a comment for Jeanne about how I’m not sure if the book ends in a good place. Check out the reply I just left to her.

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  3. You asked yourself about three times in this review, “Why did I keep reading?” I’ve read books like that, where I’m like “This is awful, why don’t I put this down?” But clearly there was enough there for you to continue. It sounds painful to read at times. There’s so much cultural baggage about weight too, not just the forces of capitalism and patriarchy.

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  4. Yes, I was thinking was Laila said, in that you kept asking “Why did I keep reading?” but you kept reading, so clearly something intrigued you. I’m not quite sure where Chaudry ended up personally. Is she in a good place?

    I love that you learnt a bit about Pakistani culture and food too. I must say, I am not good at telling the difference between the various sub-continent cuisines. I know a little, but I could not articulate it at all!

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    • I had a truckie mate who had his stomach stapled. Afterwards he could only eat the smallest but he drank and drank (beer). It was the only food that satisfied him he said. Of course he’s as big as ever.

      What I don’t understand is why Americans are so happy to subsist on Maccas and sweet sodas, when it is so obviously killing them.

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      • My brain had to translate that. Okay, got it. I think we are so driven to work or being doing something constantly to prove that we have any value, and that often is propped up by fast food and caffeine. To sit down and take one hour to have a family dinner every night is too long, too much “resting,” not enough productivity. Many families wake up at 5:30AM to get to school/work, pick up kids, go through McDonald’s drive thru, head to various sports games, race home for homework/baths/bed and do it all over again. Actually, I read that it’s getting more common for Americans to move to Europe and take manager positions. The Americans can’t believe how much vacation and work-life balance the Europeans have, so they try to change the work culture, and Europeans aren’t having it.

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    • I didn’t know there were differences in Pakistani and Indian food, but after a moment I realized it’s (obviously) a huge continent, so sure the food has variations. The confusing part is right near the border. Pakistan used to be India, so how did the food change so much after the division? Or was it different before the division, and now the food is just attributed to different countries?

      I think it was the culture and the way the author described Pakistan that kept me interested. Plus, she’s a lawyer who was part of a famous case, so I liked reading bits of that. On the other hand, the author is still talking about eating less, exercising, and loving herself even though she’s not perfect, and I have to be honest: that’s typical talk of someone who is still paranoid about being fat.

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      • Great answer Melanie, thanks.

        I guess India is a bit like China in that different regions have different food – like Szechuan, Cantonese, and so on in China. I am a bit aware that there’s Punjabi food, and Bengali food, and so on. And then there’s Pakistani (as we’ve discussed) and Sri Lankan. So much to learn. Actually, the US has regional differences too doesn’t it – Southern food with its grits and biscuits, Californian food with its Mexican influences, New England food with its seafood, and so on. I think we learnt the difference between New England Chowder and Manhattan Chowder. We don’t have so many differences in Australia, except that in tropical areas there will be a bit more emphasis on tropical fruit, and coastal areas my have more seafood. There are few odd regional specialities, but not a lot, which is interesting given that not only are we big but distance separates our populations which you’d think would encourage the development of different foods. (However, we do have different beers, and different states/regions will swear by theirs!)

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        • I never knew Australia didn’t have much in the way of regional food. I guess I’m not surprised because I have no clue what you guys eat except Vegemite, which I still don’t fully understand, but then again, we have processed oil squares wrapped individually in plastic that we call cheese. What would be a classic Australian meal where you live?

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          • In my boyhood it was definitely fried chops (not lamb but ‘two tooth’), mashed potatoes and boiled veg – peas, carrots, cabbage. Now it would more likely be grilled steak and roast veg.

            My brother had a restaurant for a while and while he trained as a French chef, his ambition was to develop an Australian cuisine based around north African and Mediterranean cuisines, which suited me just fine the few times I was able to eat there.

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            • Now you’ve added even more layers. A French chef combining Australia and North African flavors… Would that be boiled vegetables with turmeric and cumin?? I’m trying to imagine but can’t. However, I believe North African/Mediterranean foods are largely vegetarian or have fish, so I can see why it was just right for you.

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          • When I grew up it was much as Bill said – meat (usually grilled lamb chops for us), potatoes (boiled or mashed) and (over) boiled carrots, and peas or beans or cabbage. There would usually be roast lamb or beef with roast potato and pumpkin, and some sort of boiled greens for Sunday lunch. That meat would be used for school lunch sandwiches the next couple of days, or would be minced, if lamb, and used for a shepherd’s pie.

            These days though Australians are very multicultural. My son will cook pasta or a stir-fry or some Mexican dish (like tacos) or schnitzel or homemade chicken nuggets or sausages. Sausages and mashed potatoes were also common in my youth.

            Haha re your cheese. I believe you’ve exported some of that to us too!

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            • I confess that your cuisine has such easy access to lamb (or I assume easy, since it’s winding up in children’s lunchboxes). Here (the Midwest, at least), lamb is really expensive. Also, why are you all assaulting the vegetables by boiling them to death?? I’ve heard that do that in Ireland, too.

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              • Everything changed in the 1960s, with the influx of migrants from, in particular, Italy and Greece, and we discovered real food.

                A very popular women’s magazine Womens Weekly slowly weaned houswives off boiled vegetables and introduced them to new foods and new ways of cooking.

                Lamb/mutton was always a staple but over the years beef got cheaper, and as in the US, the factory farming of pork and chicken made them increasingly popular.

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                • Lately, I’ve been checking out more cook books from the library by authors sharing African, Mediterranean, and Indian recipes because they use so many spices. It’s almost mind blowing compared to American food. We’re fans of grease and sugar, mostly. If it’s not that, it’s “a plain baked chicken breast with some lemon juice” or some such nonsense. Why that chicken breast? Because for all the grease and sugar we love, we are a nation of constant punishment dieting.

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                  • Mexican use spices too! Interesting point Melanie… our colonial-based cuisine didn’t use many spiced except I think cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg in desserts. Parsley, mint and lemon were the main savoury flavourings I grew up with in cooking.

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              • Haha, you nailed it in one, Melanie. Our parents came from that English/Irish tradition is why! My (and Bill’s) generation has learnt better!

                And yes, lamb was very easy/cheap when I was growing up and well into my adulthood. It has gone up significantly and for a while there was more expensive than beef, but I think it has settled down a bit now. I don’t buy a lot of red meat these days, so don’t do a lot of comparison shopping.

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  6. This does sound like it would be hard to read. With books like this I wonder who it is written for? Who is supposed to benefit from reading this?

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  7. Hmm a difficult read for sure. I’ve been there, reading a book and wondering why I’m continuing, although I’m getting better at just putting it down if I really can’t take it anymore. This refusal to continue reading something I don’t like is getting easier as I get older LOL

    Sounds like the characterization is strong, but it’s hard when you are constantly shaking your head at the subject (in this case, a real person) and wondering “why”???

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    • I just commented to Karissa something I hadn’t realized until I typed it out: books in which people say they don’t hate their bodies anymore, they just want to get healthy, are really popular. But they still hate their bodies and do things that are dieting, but call it wellness. I should have thought of all this earlier because I knew, for example, what was up when Weight Watchers took advantage of body positivity when they changed their brand to Wellness Watchers.

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