“At first the Minotaur was suckled by his mother. Only later was he fed human flesh and, deemed too dangerous for his surroundings, locked up in the l“At first the Minotaur was suckled by his mother. Only later was he fed human flesh and, deemed too dangerous for his surroundings, locked up in the labyrinth Daedelus designed especially for him. Without help, they said, those forced to enter it could never find their way back out.”
This novelistic memoir, translated from the Dutch by Sam Garrett, is an intensely lyrical and deeply harrowing account of childhood trauma and abuse. When her older sister, Henne, dies at the age of 69, the narrator is gripped by a torrent of unexpurgated rage:
“Rage like a song of melting rock. Healing, beneficent rage. Yellow, gold and orange, bubbling to the surface like lava. Teeming, glorious, majestic.”
This rage becomes a catalyst, forcing the narrator to open “heavy door to the darkest of rooms”. Fighting through years of denial and self-deceit, Uphoff tries to reconstruct her upbringing as part of a dysfunctional household of eight children. Compared to their mother, who was distant and treated her children with “rancour, irritation and disgust”, her father Henri was seen as comparatively cultured, refined and attentive, with the sensibilities of an artist. Yet he could also be a monster, a master of deception, a conjurer, and a shaman – one who “could sift shapes miraculously, take on various guises and be in different places at the same time.” It is these various guises the narrator unpacks in her excavation of childhood abuse.
Above all, the narrative grapples with the difficulties of trying to make sense of the impressions and contours of childhood that do not fit into a coherent, easily articulable narrative. Uphoff thus turns to allegory, mythology and fairytale for assistance – her father as Minotaur, childhood as dark labyrinth. The Pied Piper and the taxes he levied on his charges. Alice in Wonderland. Bluebeard. The final Matryoshka doll that can’t be opened.
Deeply shocking, nauseating, almost bordering on the surreal in the manner of its recounting, Falling is Like Flying is a tale of home and origins, of cause and effect, and the borders of memory and language.
The creative typesetting in this book is a visual and experientialShortlisted for the Goldsmiths Prize 2021.
Reading little scratch was an adventure.
The creative typesetting in this book is a visual and experiential
! ! ! ! ! ! delight ! ! ! ! ! !
Sometimes . . the . . . . text . . . . . . reads . . . . . . . . diagonally.
At other times it reads vertically.
We often navigate . . . . denoting what the . . . . . consuming multiple parallel . . . . . narrator is thinking, . . . . on columns of text . . . . . . reading and . . . . . . . . . . . screen.
A few pages in, and the text starts to feel very natural (to the point where you wonder why this format isn’t more widely used).
The story follows a day in the life of the narrator, a young woman in her 20s who works as an admin assistant in a newsroom. We get her every thought, action and movement, including detailed descriptions of morning ablutions (“plop!” (then faster) plop! plop! plop!”). Once at work, she checks her phone religiously, thinks about her boyfriend frequently and is haunted by the memories of a recent assault, which she has yet to share with others. As in Ducks, Newburyport, a portrait of trauma and anxiety eventually emerges – the text reflecting a disheveled mind, which becomes even more fractured as a result of chronic distractedness.
While the story starts off rather brilliantly, it fell flat for me in the second half. The text ultimately does not do justice to its weighty themes, nor does it achieve a satisfying balance of the profound to the banal. Much of it feels like a short story, stretched too far (incidentally, parts of the text were previously published in short story format). Another issue – perhaps related to the youth of the author – is that Watson does not fully trust her reader. It feels, at times, like a sermon on #metoo and related topics – intended for readers desperately in need of education. (I personally prefer a lighter hammer.)
Despite these niggles, I remain in awe of the innovative structure of the novel – even though it did not, in my opinion, quite reach its full potential.
• Parts of the novel were previously shortlisted for the White Review story prize in 2018. • The text seems to be partly autobiographical. Like the narrator, Watson has worked at various roles in her life (as an assistant, waitress, cleaner) where she was at the bottom of the power chain: “I have been screamed at, groped, and patronised in various junior jobs. What has always been clear is that while some enjoy the power, others seem to genuinely believe that the divide in front of them is dictated by God, that hierarchy has a moral, qualitative value.” (Source) • Asked about the message of the book, Watson responded that she wanted to portray trauma in its entirety, “what it would be like to be in the head of someone for a day non-stop, rather than just in those moments of extremity” (Source) • Watson has cited cited Virginia Woolf’s writing as an influence on her work, particularly Between the Acts....more
But_i_thought_
>
Books:
abuse
(3)
