Last week I finished Jaycee Dugard's A Stolen Life, an autobiographical tale of her kidnapping at age 11 and subsequent 18 year captivity. It was a disturbing book, of course, filled with true stories of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. So much of it reminded me of Room, except in this case, all the stories were true. It left me with a lot of questions about her captors and the justice system, particularly: Why was a man who had previously been convicted of multiple sexual offenses on minors, including a previous kidnapping, who was sentenced to a fifty year sentence, out on parole after 11 years? It also raised a lot of questions about substance abuse and the oversight of doctors' diagnosing and prescribing for mental illness, and not following their patients' closely or with any regularity.
Another aspect of the account that intrigued me was how it was written and published within two years of her finally gaining her freedom. While reading it, the book seemed very jumbled and confused, which I assume is because Ms. Dugard's memories and emotions associated with all of the events that happened to her are similarly jumbled and confused. I cannot imagine she has been able to process all 18 years of abuse, and that came across in the story. The end of the book is also reserved to her therapy process, in which, to me, she sounds falsely happy and bright. It seemed to me that no matter how fortunate she is to be rebuilding her life with her family, the process must be harder and more intense than she describes. It made me feel like the book was given a happy ending for the sake of its readers, when I really cannot imagine the long term emotional affects of her captivity have all been solved. I don't think that the level trauma she experienced can be cured, which is how it came across in the book. Certainly it can be mitigated, processed, and coped with, but the 180 she pulls from being traumatized and developmentally stunted upon release from captivity to being completely functional in just 2 years seems as though she is glossing over the long term affects of her trauma. Perhaps she is using this positive outlook as a coping mechanism. If she tells herself she is happy and emotionally healthy, she IS happy and emotionally healthy. Or maybe her therapist is truly performing miracles with her. Or maybe Ms. Dugard is a particularly resilient individual. It's certainly not for me to judge her experience. However, I wish that I had gotten more details about the recovery process in the book so that I could better understand how her healing process went. From my perspective, it doesn't sound as though she is being completely honest with the readers, and worse, it doesn't sound as though she is being completely honest with herself. I hope that in her recovery process she will be able to better process the negative emotions that arise, and not feel the need to always paint a bright and happy picture.
Obviously this book brings up a lot of questions and emotions in the reader. While I was unsatisfied with the ending and the rushed and confused quality of the book, I definitely would recommend it to any of the Madwomen - as long as they are up for a dark and disturbing read.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Breaking Up Is Hard To Do
It has been almost two months, but I still haven't recovered from finishing A Dance With Dragons. I know, I know, most of you are sick of hearing it right now, but I really do love the Song of Ice and Fire series. And since it's going to be at least another two to five years before the next one comes out, I'm kind of at a loss for how to fill the hole in my reading life left by these books. I wander aimlessly around Barnes & Noble, picking up and then just as quickly re-shelving possible replacements, and leaving with only a magazine or two for company. I surf Amazon.com listlessly without making a purchase. I feel a little like I've been dumped. George R.R. Martin is not my boyfriend anymore!
However, just as the scorned ex-girlfriend eventually recovers and hits the bars in search of a new and better man, I hit Barnes & Noble this past weekend with one mission: to find my rebound relationship. I swore up and down I would not leave the store without a book to read. After staring longingly at the Game of Thrones display, placed in the center of the entryway by some heartless B&N employee who clearly wanted to torture me, I began prowling the fiction shelves. Nothing. I circled back to the display. I was convinced. There wasn't a single book in the entire store worth reading if it wasn't set in Westeros. Mr. DeWinter sighed and left me for the nonfiction section. I wandered along behind him like a lost duckling. After about fifteen minutes of haphazardly radiating between George R.R. Martin and random shelves, I could tell Mr. DeWinter had about had enough. So I promised to make my last, desperate attempt to find something, so we could move on to our Five Guys lunch.
And there...in the middle of the shelves...there they stood like the kind-of-cute guy at the end of the bar at last call...the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon. And at that moment, in a somewhat resigned manner, I knew they would be mine (mostly because they were of approximately the same size, heft, and binding as the Song of Ice and Fire books...pathetic, I know...and because there were at least four of them, so if I do like them, they'll keep me distracted for awhile).
And so, I brought my new boyfriend (err...books...) home with me. While not as good as my last boyfriend, they make a pretty decent rebound. A quick summary: While on a second honeymoon to Scotland with her husband whom she hasn't seen in about seven years due to WWII, Claire falls through some kind of portal in a fairy ring, and lands in the middle of a Jacobean rebellion in 18th century Scotland. Torn between her old life and the new one (of course there's a new and much more interesting man in the 18th century) Claire must decide where to spend her future.
What can I say? I'm a sucker for historical fiction, and the hint of fantasy and magic doesn't hurt either. Like most rebound relationships, this one may not be destined to last very long, as I'm not sure how Diana Gabaldon is going to keep up the plot for more than one or two books. But for now, it's distracting and enjoyable enough to get my mind off of GRRM (at least for a little while.)
RDeW
However, just as the scorned ex-girlfriend eventually recovers and hits the bars in search of a new and better man, I hit Barnes & Noble this past weekend with one mission: to find my rebound relationship. I swore up and down I would not leave the store without a book to read. After staring longingly at the Game of Thrones display, placed in the center of the entryway by some heartless B&N employee who clearly wanted to torture me, I began prowling the fiction shelves. Nothing. I circled back to the display. I was convinced. There wasn't a single book in the entire store worth reading if it wasn't set in Westeros. Mr. DeWinter sighed and left me for the nonfiction section. I wandered along behind him like a lost duckling. After about fifteen minutes of haphazardly radiating between George R.R. Martin and random shelves, I could tell Mr. DeWinter had about had enough. So I promised to make my last, desperate attempt to find something, so we could move on to our Five Guys lunch.
And there...in the middle of the shelves...there they stood like the kind-of-cute guy at the end of the bar at last call...the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon. And at that moment, in a somewhat resigned manner, I knew they would be mine (mostly because they were of approximately the same size, heft, and binding as the Song of Ice and Fire books...pathetic, I know...and because there were at least four of them, so if I do like them, they'll keep me distracted for awhile).
And so, I brought my new boyfriend (err...books...) home with me. While not as good as my last boyfriend, they make a pretty decent rebound. A quick summary: While on a second honeymoon to Scotland with her husband whom she hasn't seen in about seven years due to WWII, Claire falls through some kind of portal in a fairy ring, and lands in the middle of a Jacobean rebellion in 18th century Scotland. Torn between her old life and the new one (of course there's a new and much more interesting man in the 18th century) Claire must decide where to spend her future.
What can I say? I'm a sucker for historical fiction, and the hint of fantasy and magic doesn't hurt either. Like most rebound relationships, this one may not be destined to last very long, as I'm not sure how Diana Gabaldon is going to keep up the plot for more than one or two books. But for now, it's distracting and enjoyable enough to get my mind off of GRRM (at least for a little while.)
RDeW
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