A visceral, harrowing account of what it’s like to be trapped inside Russia’s infamous criminal justice system, with its merciless judges and vast labor camps.” —The New York Times Book Review
 
“Compelling . . . An intimate, honest recollection of Griner’s time held captive in Russia. Coming Home reads as a deeply personal, publicly powerful documentation of what happened—what is still happening—to her body and mind.” —Slate

“Riveting . . . Coming Home delves unflinchingly into the dehumanizing indignities the Olympic athlete suffered during the 10 months she served out of a nine-year sentence.” —The Washington Post

“A detailed accounting of Griner’s harrowing journey through a Russian legal system known for its corruption . . . Read her book, a 300-plus page deep dive on an experience many of us wouldn’t have been able to recover from, and I suspect your empathy will grow − for her and all of humanity . . . The ripple effect in life is real, and if Griner’s honesty helps even a dozen readers see the world differently, that impact, her impact, will be felt for years. Griner's book will get people talking to each other, and that's when real change begins.” —Lindsay Schnell, USA Today

"A compelling, often chilling look inside today’s version of the Gulag." —Kirkus Reviews

Andia Winslow narrates WNBA basketball star Brittney Griner's memoir, which has a strong focus on her imprisonment in Russia. Winslow's delivery is outstanding; she recounts the fear and frustration that Griner went through during her ordeal. Winslow deftly projects Griner's emotions every step of the way, imitating her captors' Russian accents only when appropriate. While the memoir is detailed, there is little focus on Griner's time at Baylor University. However, she is open about the perceptions of her sexuality and deftly weaves in recollections of her upbringing. Coupled with its honest account of what happened in Russia, this memoir is a fascinating listen. M.B. © AudioFile 2024, Portland, Maine

2024-05-07
The WNBA star recounts her imprisonment by the Putin regime.

“My horror begins in a land I thought I knew, on a trip I wish I hadn’t taken,” writes Griner. She had traveled to Russia before, playing basketball for the Yekaterinburg franchise of the Russian league during the WNBA’s off-season, but on this winter day in 2022, she was pulled aside at the Moscow airport and subjected to an unexpected search that turned up medically prescribed cannabis oil. As the author notes, at home in Arizona, cannabis is legal, but not in Russia. After initial interrogation—“They seemed determined to get me to admit I was a smuggler, some undercover drug lord supplying half the country”—she was bundled off to await a show trial that was months in coming. With great self-awareness, the author chronicles the differences between being Black and gay in America and in Russia. “When you’re in a system with no true justice,” she writes, “you’re also in a system with a bunch of gray areas.” Unfortunately, despite a skilled Russian lawyer on her side, Griner had trouble getting to those gray areas, precisely because, with rising tensions between the U.S. and Russia following the invasion of Ukraine, Putin’s people seemed intent on making an example of her. Between spells in labor camps, jails, and psych wards, the author became a careful observer of the Russian penal system and its horrors. Navigating that system proved exhausting; since her release following an exchange for an imprisoned Russian arms dealer (about which the author offers a le Carré–worthy account of the encounter in Abu Dhabi), she has been suffering from PTSD. That struggle has invigorated her, though, in her determination to free other unjustly imprisoned Americans, a plea for which closes the book.

A compelling, often chilling look inside today’s version of the Gulag.