This one hurt me, it made me really, REALLY sad while I was reading it. Lockjaw reads like an indie movie:Almost 30 something returns to home town to deal with family, discovers nothing (much) has changed, fights alcoholic impulses, loses against impulses...Plans to kill mother.
No, this isn't an oedipal thriller, it's a a good introduction to the ethics and morals of euthanasia.
The main's mother was one of those lioness women that inspire a whole group of people, a mom that would end up being called by ex-girlfriends, that fed the neighborhood and in one way or another raised any child or teen that came with in 5 feet of her.
If I hadn't grown up with women like her I'd agree with some of the reviews I read that Mom was a little "too perfect". But they wonderfully and fantastically do exist. That's why this book hit me so hard, I went through this...Twice. And now watching my fiancee deal with the same.
You never expect it to happen to them, that slow as molasses change, first it's just being absent minded...then weirdness...You walk in the door and they're just standing there with a lost look, bra over their shirt and make up smeared on their face...and she doesn't know you. She raised you, inspired you, terrorized you, kissed your knees, made you laugh when you cried...
And you are a stranger to her.
You take her hand and she flinches, you speak softly and lead her back into her room, set her down, gently touch her hands, tell her before you start giving her manicure to her (carefully because the snicking sound scares her)
Then leave.
Again and again.
Ames got that, the reaction, the guilt, anger, helplessness. All there.
And apparently football...which I don't get at all but apparently for many readers THAT'S what stuck with them.
Go figure.
No comments:
Post a Comment