Currently Reading #8

[littlerdog.livejournal.com]

Somewhere along the line I've neglected to note when and/or where I picked up Gaining Ground by Joan Barfoot. It's a Women's Press book; I tend to grab those when I see them. Not that that does the tiny press much good, as they're invariably secondhand, but they're usually niche books of the kind you won't find falling off the shelves in Waterstones any time soon. If I could find them new I'd buy them new. But distribution is often a problem for small presses, so I'm usually reduced to grabbing what I can. Sorry, people.

This book was a hard and uncomfortable read. It's told uncompromisingly in first person by the narrator, Abra (I just had to go and check the spelling of her name, as it's not one I've ever encountered before), who leads a conventional woman's life until she suddenly runs out on her family and goes to live as a virtual hermit in a cabin that calls to her as 'home'.

It's hard to know what to think about Abra, as a character who's abnegated responsibility and is utterly frank and guilt-free about it has their charm. But on the whole, I think that when her daughter calls her selfish, she's right. Abra strikes me as soul-sister to all those people who want to 'find themselves' or who have to prove they're 'free' by starting a relationship then deliberately ending it. I have no problem with her wanting to live alone, to care for herself only, to evade all responsibility, including that for an injured squirrel whose life she saves. In many ways, I sympathise. That kind of life certainly has its appeal. It's her abnegation of responsibility for her two children that grates.

At all phases of her life, Abra abnegates responsibility for her decisions. She doesn't decide to get married; it just happens. She doesn't decide to take a job in a dress shop to support her husband through college; it just happens. She doesn't decide to quit the job once he graduates; it just happens. She doesn't decide to have children; it just happens. She doesn't even decide to leave her family for the cabin; it just happens. In this repeated claim to be merely the victim of circumstance, she disgusts me.

Yes, many of us often feel (or claim) we 'have no choice', but choosing not to resist the pattern of events is in itself a choice.

Living in her own little world, where nobody can make demands on her, Abra is suddenly interrupted by her daughter Katie, who wants answers and even, possibly, a relationship. Abra isn't capable of either. At the opening of the book, she's barely able to remember her own name, so deeply has she immersed herself in herself. As well as labelling her mother selfish, Katie calls her 'mad' and certainly there's something disassociative going on here. Towards the end of the book, Abra sees herself briefly as the outside world may see her, and doesn't like what she sees, but the moment passes.

It's hard to know what to make of this book as it presents the character as she presents herself, with all judgement left to the reader, should they choose to pass any. It's a detailed, fascinating portrait of a woman who throws it all up and walks away to be herself. Not a nice self, but who says women have to be nice?