In these terrible, fucked up times, people use different forms of entertainment as escapism, often veering towards easy-going, light-hearted topics (see for example, the rise of musicals during the Great Depression). So my goal has been to tune out the world, shutter myself in, and read books. So maybe reading a book about child abuse was not the wisest selection as a means to that end.
But in spite of the horrific topic of the novel, Bastard Out of Carolina was one of the most heart-wrenching, riveting, and well-written books I've read in a long time. I couldn't put it down and blew through it in a week and a half.
Bone is a young girl growing up poor in South Carolina in the late 1950s with her mother (Anney), sister (Reese), and stepfather (Daddy Glen), as well as a large extended family on her mother's side (I lost track...3 uncles and 5 aunts I believe, and a boatload of cousins). She was born a bastard, without the name of a father on her birth certificate. Her younger sister's father dies in a car accident and then her mother marries their stepfather when she was only about 7 years old. Glen has a very obsessive love for her mother. Initially, he wants to be a good father for the 2 girls, but after her mother loses their son in childbirth and can no longer have children, his initial good intentions turn to scorn and hate, focused squarely on Bone.
The book contains very explicit descriptions of the physical, sexual, and emotional abuse that Daddy Glen inflicts on Bone and the majority of the book details the trauma she exhibits as a result and all the ways she acts out as coping mechanisms. I took a class in college about psychology in literature (including works like Madame Bovary, The Trial, Notes From Underground, etc) and while I was reading this book, was continually thinking that this could totally be a portrait of the psychological repercussions of child abuse. Because Bone's behavior changes drastically after the abuse begins. She goes through a phase of religious fervor, she begins masturbating and having sexual fantasies that are often very violent and/or incestuous, and she continually makes up very violent, horrific stories that she shares with her cousins. All of these things are intertwined with her shame and self-loathing and she constantly has all of this repressed rage that she wants to take out on so many people who aren't necessarily the object of her fury (a friend, her stepfather's family, the owner of the local Woolworth's, etc).
And her relationship with her mom is probably the most complicated of all. She loves her mom beyond words, and wants to do anything to not upset the balance of their family. She can't/won't tell any family members what is going on. When she's taken to the doctor for a broken collarbone, the doctor is furious at her mother after seeing many healed broken bones and injuries on Bone's x-rays, knowing that they are due to physical abuse. And even then, knowing that the doctor knows, she refuses to admit it to even him. Even though her mother loves her abusive stepfather more than her and doesn't do enough to keep her out of harm's way, all she wants is her mother's love, even if that means suffering the way she does. It's a horrible, fucked up dynamic that is enough to break your heart. But is probably the same story of so, so many children who experience the same thing. Too young to fully understand what is happening to them or the complexities of the adult relationships, and all they want is to be loved, not hurt.
In spite of all of this, the connections with her mom's extended family is also a huge contributor to who Bone is and who her mother is. While they are what would be considered "white trash," they are all so unconditionally there for each other. Whether it's in simple things like having each others' kids over for a night or two, to helping in more serious moments like Aunt Ruth dying of cancer, Aunt Alma having a mental breakdown, or the uncles vowing revenge on Daddy Glen when they find out he has been hurting Bone. There is nothing they won't do for each other and while they struggle with being poor, or marital troubles, or trouble with the law, their connections to each other are what ground them all and at least gives Bone some love and support to rely on.
Dorothy Allison's writing in this book was also quite brilliant. You can tell that it is written from Bone's point of view after she has had time to process the things that happened to her, so there is more self-awareness as well as a very perceptive eye on who the adults really are as people. She sees things in peoples' eyes that tell her what kind of person they are, which helps her navigate their world. She is not naïve, but at the same time, there are often things that transpire among the adults that we as the reader understand, but that Bone as a young child does not. It's quite a remarkable way to tell the story that gives the reader a perfect view into what Bone is experiencing and also seeing so much more that is going on in the bigger picture.
So while it may not have been wise to read a novel of such heavy subject material in the middle of a pandemic and the middle of unprecedented political drama, I can't say enough about what a formidable, exceptional book this was. And somehow, I didn't finish the book feeling depleted or overwhelmingly sad (even though it didn't end on a hopeful note in any way). It just seemed like a powerful statement that reminded me of what a remarkable emotional impact books can have when done well.
After that, I'm taking a change of pace and heading into The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway. I haven't read Hemingway since high school, and while I'm only about 35 pages into it, I don't know if I'm all that impressed yet. But I'll reserve judgement until I get through the entire thing (which should be relatively quick since it's pretty short and not dense reading). So I'm off. 213 to go.
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