Ruth Ozeki (1998) (UK ed 2013) My Year of Meats. Edinburgh, Canongate. 978-1-78211-114-6

This is, as described, an extraordinary book which tackles a number of interesting issues. It weaves together the stories of Jane Takagi-Little, a documentary filmmaker, with Akiko Uneo, a Japanese housewife who watches the cookery shows that Jane has filmed.

 
[Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence]
[Spoiler Alert]
 

This is an interesting mixing of a number of social issues brought about when two contrasting cultures combine. Jane, herself dual heritage having had a Japanese mother and an American father, is asked to make a Japanese documentary series sponsored by an American meat-exporting business. The programmes feature stories about supposedly clean-living, all-American families with the wives showing how they cook a particular meat-based recipe. The book also reveals how the families featured are exploited by the TV company and the meat exporting business for their own ends. Jane also uncovers some uncomfortable truths about a dangerous hormone used in the meat industry called DES and issues around fertility and love are explored through both stories.

In Japan the shows are avidly watched by the wife of the Japanese TV executive, who attempts to re-create the food she sees in the programmes. Her husband is increasingly abusive towards her, as she tries to second guess his moods and desires, and finally he becomes physically violent and lands her in hospital. She contacts Jane and buys a one-way ticket to the US to start an imagined life she has dreamt about from the documentary series.

It is interesting in the blurb that Akiko’s abusive husband is merely described as overbearing [“…she will also cross paths with Akiko Ueno, a beleaguered Japanese housewife struggling to escape her overbearing husband.”] when he is actually mentally, emotionally, financially and sexually abusive long before he becomes physically violent.

Again, domestic abuse is portrayed as control that builds up into violence, and it is only when the violence is unleashed that Akiko feels able to leave.

Awards:
·        Kirayama Prize for Literature of the Pacific Rim

Writing about Leaving

 
In my last writing workshop with my fellow first year PhD students, we discussed “the uncanny” triggered by reading Bennett and Royle’s introduction⁽¹⁾ to it as a concept and analysis of Freud’s list of things that make us feel unwholesome/unhomelike. Perfect for Halloween.
 
I began to think about whether there would or could be instances of the uncanny in the book I have started. One incident, that happened to me on the day I left my controlling and abusive marriage stood out. My book is a fictional account of domestic abuse, and particularly coercive control, and while loosely based on some of my own experiences, weaves other narratives into the story. Sometimes I write in the first person and sometimes in the third, but eventually it will all be a third person perspective. I decided I would begin to write about that day.
 
It is interesting in that I have talked (to friends, counsellors, therapists, solicitors) about many aspects of my experience, to reduce the trauma and record events for the legal record, but I have largely ignored the emotional impact of that day, simply regarding it as a day that happened, was difficult, but achieved it’s aim. But of course it was both pivotal, the ending of one thing and the starting of another, and traumatic.
 
I found as I began to write about it, that my narrative sounded like something a child – maybe of primary school age - would write. It listed events – this happened, and then this happened, and then this… I went back to edit and fill in the details but it still felt like a black-and-white outline drawing waiting to be coloured in. I was intrigued that I was finding this so hard to write about and yet, why was I so surprised? It was a highly anxious and adrenaline-filled day.
 
Finally I had a discussion with a friend who is a writer and poet, who studied the MA in Creative Writing alongside me and is a survivor herself, and sent her what I had written so far. Her insight suddenly freed me up to write creatively about it. I felt like a block had cleared.
 
I am sure it will require considerable editing as time goes by and the project develops, but I now feel this piece is on it’s way and am content that it’s where it needs to be for now. Writing as therapy; it’s uncanny.

(1) Bennett, Andrew and Nicholas Royale (2016) Chapter Five: The Uncanny in An Introduction to Literature, Criticism and Theory, Abingdon, Taylor & Francis Group.

Brianna Labuskes (2019) Girls of Glass. Seattle, Thomas and Mercer. 978-1-503-90228-2

 

This is a murder mystery written from the point-of-view of the Detective looking to solve the abduction and murder of a six-year old child. Her involvement and detachment in the case is constantly questioned as previously her daughter had been abducted and murdered when she was four years old.

[Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Incest]

[Spoiler alert]

Although the story is told by the detectives (in the third person) involved in investigating the disappearance and subsequent murder of a six-year old girl, the story revolves round a wealthy and powerful but toxic family living in a small town in Florida.

The family is headed up by a charming, narcissistic District Judge, secure in his role with all the right powerful connections. At home he is a sexual abuser to his two daughters, his granddaughter and with clear intent on his daughter/granddaughter as she matures. His wife maintains a perfect, wealthy family façade while exerting iron control over the family at home. The abuse includes financial abuse, physical violence and close control of the movements of all four of the other female members of the household. The two daughters are in varying states of mental and physical collapse, coping with substance abuse and unable to parent their own children.

The book has an excellent plot as a murder mystery with twists and turns keeping you guessing until the final, unexpected, revelation and subsequent actions. However much of the writing is cliched and the characters two-dimensional. The abuse falls into the stereotypes of powerful, untouchable men (another US judge) abusing family members and getting away with it.

Rachel Cusk (2018) Kudos. London, Faber & Faber. 978-0-571-34672-1

 

Kudos is the third book in a trilogy about a writer, Faye, the people she meets, and the conversations that are had. In this book Faye flies to Europe to undertake a book tour for her recently published novel. 

[Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence]

The focus of the novel is not on domestic violence, but it contains a conversation which describes coercive control in the context of a divorced couple and their son. The father uses his contact with the son to continue his abuse of his former wife, knowing that his poor parenting will cause her unease every time the son goes to stay with him. The husband also took all the photographs from the marriage – as if to take her history, or to ensure there was no evidence in the photographs which would contradict his version of how the marriage had played out. Either way – controlling the narrative and her past.

Jane Hamilton (1988) The Book of Ruth. London, Black Swan. 978-0-552-99685-8

 

The Book of Ruth is a lovely lyrical book but tells, with increasing tension, a horrific story. Ruth is the narrator of her own story - of being a girl, a young woman, a wife and a mother in a Midwestern small town in the US.

[Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence]
[Spoiler alert]

Ruth starts her story after the events of the novel are complete and she is looking back, deciding where to begin her story. Her childhood was characterised by a controlling and emotionally abusive mother, who prefers her academically talented son, and an abusive father who leaves when the children are young.

Ruth’s development is inhibited by her mother but she finds solace in correspondence with her wealthier and childless aunt who encourages her love of books and stories. After school she joins her mother working in a dry-cleaning store.

Ruth describes meeting her husband-to-be, seen by all around as a loser. They marry but are too poor to afford their own home so stay living with Ruth’s mother. She sees only the good in him and ignores his inability to hold down a job, to contribute in any meaningful way to the household and to behave appropriately. Her pregnancy and the birth of her son brings some joy to the whole household but the tension and the underlying sense of impending violence increase until it explodes into extreme violence and murder.

Ruth’s voice is beautifully held throughout the book – a sing song way of talking and her lack of sophistication. The growing tension is so subtle it creeps under the radar until you are fully aware of it. I thought this was really appropriate in a story of domestic violence, where abuse may start small and unnoticed until it starts to escalate. The book does, however, still hold onto stereotypes of domestic abuse occurring in uneducated families in poverty.

 Awards:

• The Hemingway Foundation/PEN Award for Best First Novel 1989

• Great Lakes College Association New Writer’s Award 1989

• Wisconsin Library Association Banta Book Award 1989

• Oprah’s Book Club selection for November 1996

Swati Avasthi (2010) Split. New York, Random House. 978-0-375-86341-7

Swati Avasthi uses the voice of a 16-year old boy to tell the story of family violence. Jace is the son of a respected high court judge who regularly abuses his wife, causing significant physical injury and, as we come to discover towards the end of the book, taking away her capacity for self-determination.

[Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence]

[Spoiler alert]

At the beginning of Split, Jace has been thrown out of the house as a result of standing up to his father, protecting his mother, and fighting back. He flees across the US to his older brother who had made a similar journey a few years previously. His brother has changed his identity and set up a new life to protect himself from a father not ready to relinquish control or tolerate being disobeyed.

Jace’s contact with his brother threatens the safety of both of them, and Jace comes with a secret – he is already guilty of perpetrating violence and abuse towards a romantic partner. The story unfolds with both brothers taking steps to free themselves of the cycle of abuse and understanding the boundaries and limitations of all those involved.

I found the book a really compelling read. It is a YA (young adult) novel and good that issues like this are explored with people who might be embarking on their first serious romantic and sexual relationships. The abuse does very much focus on extreme violence, however, and it might have been helpful for some of the controlling aspects of abuse to have been been explored. Jace’s involvement in violence is portrayed as a loss of control and an anger management issue, rather than the more complex aspects of domestic abuse displayed by his father’s patterns of control. Violence doesn’t happen in a vacuum.

Swati Avasthi worked with survivors of domestic violence for three years through her co-ordination of a legal clinic and has said that during her time she spoke with thousands of survivors and spoke out, in lectures, about some of the issues.

In this story she wanted to explore what it would be like for a child growing up watching your father hit your mother, while still admiring aspects of your father. She hints at, but doesn’t develop, the emotional abuse the father uses to manipulate his younger son.

Split won several awards:

• The 2010 Silver Parents Choice Award

• The 2010 New Mexico State Award

• The 2011 International Reading Association Award

• The 2011 Cybils Award.

http://www.fwiwreviews.net/2010/10/before-split-blog-tour-guest-post-by.html#.X61YE2iwnIU

Roddy Doyle (1996) The Woman Who Walked Into Doors. London, Mandarin Paperbacks. 0-7493-9599-0

 

Roddy Doyle's book The Woman Who Walked Into Doors a story of domestic abuse told by of a 39-year-old woman, now an alcoholic, who is suffering from domestic violence. The book is set in a working-class suburb of Dublin where domestic violence is unacknowledged by those around, despite evidence to the contrary. 

[Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence]
[Spoiler alert]

The book takes us on a journey from the narrator's - Paula's - childhood, through first meeting the man who later abuses her, to their marriage and his increasingly violent and controlling behaviour. Although abuse is obvious throughout, the character holds back on her description of the physical violence she suffered until the last third of the book when it all comes pouring out. 

Paddy Doyle says "It's a list of some of her injuries and what he did to her. In that passage of the book, that's where the bulk of the violence takes place. The rest of the book has the sense of the threat, and it's always there. But I wasn't interested in the violence and I got it out of the way quite quickly." (1)

The narrator, Paula, pleads a number of times "Ask me" in the numerous situations where her bruises, breaks and burns are obvious to people who could have intervened - but didn't. Finally, when her husband eyes up their eldest daughter, does she find the strength to throw him out.

I thought the book was a moving portrayal of domestic violence but to me fell into so many of the stereotypes of the "type" of woman who experiences domestic abuse - working class, lack of formal education, living in poverty (although this is partly due to the abuse). Although other aspects of abuse were present (financial abuse, coercive control etc), it was the violence that was shocking and most prevelant.

I was curious to know if the book had been shocking at the time - twenty four years ago, which might somewhat explain the stereotyping. It was written after the 1993 United Nations Declaration on the Elimination of Violence Against Women and the 1995 World Conference on Women in Beijing, but even in this century commentators would suggest that Ireland lagged behind in addressing domestic violence.

Paula McGovern in The Journal in February 2013 said "The issue of domestic violence is virtually invisible in Ireland and we lag far behind other western countries in how we deal with it in our social systems" (2) and Orla Muldoon, professor of psychology at the University of Limerick, writing in the Irish Times in March 2019 after the murder of Clodagh Hawe, said "It is often deemed inappropriate to intervene in what are seen as ‘private family matters'" (3). 

It is, however, an incredibly moving and shocking account of domestic violence - and of course, written by Roddy Doyle, it is beautifully paced and written.

(1) https://www.cbc.ca/radio/writersandcompany/man-booker-prize-winner-roddy-doyle-on-domestic-violence-writing-from-memory-and-the-lure-of-irish-culture-1.4789071

(2) https://www.thejournal.ie/readme/v-day-one-billion-rising-794059-Feb2013/

(3) https://www.irishtimes.com/opinion/irish-culture-is-facilitating-the-domestic-abuse-of-women-1.3812813