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A review by booksamongstfriends
Phantom Limb by Lucinda Berry
4.0
One thing I love about Lucinda Berry is that she knows exactly what she’s talking about, and she always delivers a story that proves it. With Phantom Limb, her background as a clinical/trauma psychologist really shines, though with the setting, there are moments in the book that feel more clinical than I would’ve preferred. That said, this is definitely one of her more character-driven stories, and I appreciated how she explored the complexities of trauma.
The story follows twin sisters, Emily and Elizabeth, who endured severe childhood trauma. Berry doesn’t shy away from the abrasive, uncomfortable realities of their experiences, so anyone considering this book should definitely keep the content warnings in mind. These girls were beaten, abandoned, and exploited by their mother—not only for her own gratification but for the pleasure of other men as well.
As the story unearths the horrors of the twins' past, it also delves into their futures and the very different paths they’ve taken. Elizabeth is the high-achieving twin, seemingly regaining her footing and a sense of normalcy. In contrast, Emily remains deeply scarred, battling severe depression and prone to self-harm. But the relationship between these twins isn’t as straightforward as it seems. While they share an unbreakable bond, their connection is also heavy, complex, and deeply layered.
In the present day, Emily is revealed to be dead, and Elizabeth, unable to cope with her sister’s loss, ends up in a psychiatric facility after attempting to take her own life. It’s here that Berry’s expertise comes through most vividly. The portrayal of Elizabeth’s mental state, the care she’s provided, and the unraveling of her story feel grounded and authentic.
I don’t want to spoil this read, but this book is an exploration of the power of the mind, the lasting destruction caused by childhood trauma, and the thin, often blurred line between healing and masquerading. It’s a sad look at how the darkest parts of ourselves can consume us. Berry crafts a heartbreaking yet thought-provoking narrative about unbreakable bonds, self-destruction, and grief.
The story follows twin sisters, Emily and Elizabeth, who endured severe childhood trauma. Berry doesn’t shy away from the abrasive, uncomfortable realities of their experiences, so anyone considering this book should definitely keep the content warnings in mind. These girls were beaten, abandoned, and exploited by their mother—not only for her own gratification but for the pleasure of other men as well.
As the story unearths the horrors of the twins' past, it also delves into their futures and the very different paths they’ve taken. Elizabeth is the high-achieving twin, seemingly regaining her footing and a sense of normalcy. In contrast, Emily remains deeply scarred, battling severe depression and prone to self-harm. But the relationship between these twins isn’t as straightforward as it seems. While they share an unbreakable bond, their connection is also heavy, complex, and deeply layered.
In the present day, Emily is revealed to be dead, and Elizabeth, unable to cope with her sister’s loss, ends up in a psychiatric facility after attempting to take her own life. It’s here that Berry’s expertise comes through most vividly. The portrayal of Elizabeth’s mental state, the care she’s provided, and the unraveling of her story feel grounded and authentic.
I don’t want to spoil this read, but this book is an exploration of the power of the mind, the lasting destruction caused by childhood trauma, and the thin, often blurred line between healing and masquerading. It’s a sad look at how the darkest parts of ourselves can consume us. Berry crafts a heartbreaking yet thought-provoking narrative about unbreakable bonds, self-destruction, and grief.