In my poetry workshop class, we
recently had a prompt assignment to write a maximization poem—a poem that
exhausts both the writer and the reader. Change
Me Into Zeus’s Daughter felt like a maximization memoir. The present-time sections
moved slowly, weighed down by every single painful event in the speaker’s
childhood. The work is beautifully written, with bright details that work
against dark reality. But it is exhausting to read; it felt like there was not
much withheld. It was also probably exhausting for Moss to write which proves
her to be committed to storytelling and sharing. Perhaps this feeling comes
from the directness of the writing—the wash of the speaker’s experience over
the reader. In the section of pg80 when the kids really want to go home but the
father is drinking with Uncle, they already understand that they are going to
be there for many more hours even though they want so badly to return home.
This scene conveys the agentlessness they have as kids, time is not their own,
they’re on their father’s wayward time which often means staying in places they
don’t want and having to be in the car while the father is drunk driving, “He
was really drunk, reeling when he walked to the car, but we had seen him a lot
worse; he could still drive. He slumped in the seat a minute with his foot on
the brake, cleared his throat, pulling onto the road and eased down the street
at a snail’s pace” (Moss 88). They seem to understand this, and prefer when he
drives exceedingly slow rather than aggressively trying to race other cars. For
me as a reader, this scene was stressful to read even though there was a strong
sense that this was a routine for the kids that they understood as dangerous
but had somehow survived and continue to survive.
There are several stark moments in
the book that reinforce the lack of agency children have against their parents,
“You belong to me and I’ll do with you what I want” (21). It’s clear that the
father considers his children as possessions, and in turn treats them as
objects to be thrown around and discarded, “Unless, which often happened, he
decided you didn’t belong to him at all” (21). The idea of possessing the body
of other humans is really disturbing and functions as a justification for child
abuse. Throughout the speaker’s life this cycle of possession—discard happens
routinely and perhaps leads to the overwhelming exhaustive experience. The fact
that the cycle doesn’t end until the father dies, and maybe not even after since
living in memory, alone is enough to wear out the reader.
-Andrea
Andrea,
ReplyDeletei was wondering too, if every incident of craziness and abuse had to be shared, or if we could get it "in essence". you're right about the lack of agency and their ways of manipulating the system they are living in. Sadly the children inherit some of the injuries and take them on as their own.
e
Andrea, like you I found myself sapped by this text and the heavy, ovewhelming use of detail. Though I appreciate your suggestion that this perhaps represented her commitment to storytelling. You mentioning the ownership of the bodies, reminds me of another way in which bodies were invoked within the text - as a site where differing relationships to poverty were made visible. Which perhaps thematically opens the work up to a broader conversation of the ownership of bodies under capitalist and racists systems of resource control; similar to the relationship between the father and children in the moments you've highlighted.
ReplyDeleteAndrea, thanks for pointing out exactly what I was feeling: tired! There is something quite exhausting about the length of this memoir and its commitment to capturing so many scenes of ongoing violence. But as you mention in your post, this has the effect of stressing out the reader and making them feel, in a way, trapped as the kids must have felt. I especially felt that way about the night that they went to visit Uncle Jake. Even before they leave the house there is a sense of dread that seeps into the story and does not let us go. We are forced to experience the full length of the scene without summarizing or chronological jumps. By the time we're in the car home and the Dad is drunkenly shouting out the window to the black marchers, I feel worn out and helpless. In this way, Moss showed us her pain really well.
ReplyDeleteI noticed this type of heavy story telling at other places as well and thought it was an excellent technique to put the reader right in the space with Moss. What comes to mind for me in the scene where they are getting their new shoes. We see their excitement building as they wait in the car ride over, then sitting with coffee trying to reign in their excitement. Then when their disappointment hits it is even stronger because the excitement was built up so well. Once they are saddened then we are also made to wait with them as they each get fitted and have to walk back and forth in their new shoes holding back tears. The entire scene is very raw and real and she does this often. I understand that it can be exhausting to read these scenes but I also agree that it was the purpose to put us in that worn out place of the narrator.
ReplyDelete