From the start of this novel, I always could sympathize with Jack, but I never strayed from the sense that, while Jack serves as the narrator, it is Ma’s story he is telling. She is the one who has undergone the full extent of the entire traumatic experience—from being captured and initially trapped before Jack was even born.
When Jack some along, it’s more that he is an extension of Ma than anything else (Mr. Mitchell mentioned a word sandwich of Jackandma…). This is evident in points where he can’t imagine being away from her, or thinks it’s totally weird that she was awake while he was asleep.
It’s true that as he grows up—especially as he grows accustomed to Outside, that this “jackandma” will crumble. He must, inevitably, achieve independence for this novel to be truly satisfying, I think. But that still doesn’t negate the fact that Jack was brought, by Ma, into her story of capture and isolation. She is the one who really underwent and understood her experience. In many senses, Jack is just along for the ride.
I worry that I'm hammering this point home too frequently, but it remains important to so many of the dynamics in this novel: Jack is going to have to slowly wean himself (literally and figuratively) from his utter dependence on Ma once they are Outside, but this too just repeats the usual course of events with a child developing his or her own independent self. Once again, we see familiar dynamics of child-rearing assume this hyperbolic/claustrophobic dimension in the context of this novel.
ReplyDelete