There is a saying that celebrities are mentally stuck at the age they become famous. For Britney Spears, whose debut single, Hit Me Baby One More Time, was released less than two months before she turned 17, the saying rings true. Spears’s provocative new memoir, The Woman in Me – an account of how a woman declared the most powerful celebrity in the world by Forbes in 2002, could, just six years later, be trapped against her will in a regime so restrictive that she was not allowed to eat, spend money or take a bath without supervision – reads at times like a Hans Christian Andersen fable in its darkness. A beautiful young girl, adored and vilified, preyed upon by powerful men and a cruel, selfish family.
It presents the facts of Spears’ life in a strikingly straightforward manner, delivering even the most harrowing passages in a casual, conversational tone. At times, this tone can feel so removed it almost feels devoid of agency, as if the Britney retelling it is still the eight-year-old lying about her age to get into the Mickey Mouse Club. That, perhaps, may be due to trauma – it’s understood that the audiobook is narrated by Michelle Williams instead of the author because her retelling would be too difficult – but it can’t help but feel, for the reader, that we’re only getting the first layer of the Spears story. (It has since been declared, by Spears via Instagram, that the second volume of her book will be published in 2024.)
[ Britney’s gossipy celebrity memoir contains a serious hidden messageOpens in new window ]
The latter half, detailing the agonising conservatorship experience – which ended after 13 years, in November 2021 – makes for a harrowing, infuriating read; the story of a woman seen as a mere cash-cow for a myriad of profiteers surrounding her. The irony, still, is that Britney sang about her fate long ago. Trapped somewhere between girlhood and womanhood, Spears’s tale of rapid maturity followed by arrested development is a tale of freedom followed by imprisonment. She also sang Overprotected, the lyrics of which today feel haunting with all that we know.
Flashes of humour, despite the subject matter, exist – as Spears’s sexy costumes are criticised, she thinks to herself: “I was never quite sure what all these critics thought I was supposed to be doing – a Bob Dylan impression? I was a teenage girl from the South. I signed my name with a heart.” Still, moments of self-observation are fleeting.
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The reader closes the book’s pages with the sense that Spears hasn’t entirely figured herself out yet – something one imagines could be difficult if one’s life was entirely manufactured, manipulated and criticised in equal measure.
Ultimately, what is clear from reading is that Britney Spears is a woman recovering from trauma. And the space for her to do that should be granted right away.
