A review of Room by Emma Donoghue
Room is a book that is disturbing and difficult to read, yet compelling. It was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize, and is frequently highlighted as a bestseller.
Author Emma Donoghue was inspired by the horrific Josef Fritzl case. This Austrian monster incarcerated his daughter in a cellar for 24 years and had a number of children with her, murdering some of them. Since then other terrible stories have come to light.
Although inspired by that case, Donoghue is quick to point out that this book is very different. Her heroine was kidnapped as a university student and enclosed in a room as a sex slave for seven years.
While the Fritzl case excited the voyeurs about survival in an enclosed space, Donoghue is as equally interested in exploring what happens after the captives are released.
What is fascinating about this story, is that it is told through the eyes of the five-year-old boy, Jack, who was a product of the abusive relationship. This is what makes it possible to read without being too revolted by what is happening, especially the sexual encounters.
As Donoghue said in a New Statesman interview: “Sex is fundamentally a mystery to children, and many adult decisions are motivated by questions of sex. Child narrators who are confused about adult sexuality are particularly useful.”
The child’s perspective also means that information is conveyed that means much more to the adult reader than it does to the narrator.
However, Room goes beyond an examination of these sorts of incidents. Donoghue uses this situation as a device to question many aspects of our society and culture. For example, once the child and his Ma emerge from captivity, he is innocent regarding the ways of the world.
Having lived in a tiny space with minimal possessions, he cannot comprehend the riches and privileges we enjoy in terms of material goods and freedom. Even a sense of ownership, or belonging is foreign. If something exists it is to be used by whoever needs it.
Jack steals a book from a bookshop, merely because he wants it and takes it, not aware of the consumer society that governs the outside world.
What also struck me was the creativity of “Ma” in occupying and educating her son with such limited resources, and in such a confined space. She works out a program of reading, maths and exercises, which means that doctors and psychologists are amazed at his fitness and intellectual abilities. The focus on her son helps to keep her sane, and their bond is a special celebration of mother-child love.
Interestingly, faith plays an important part in the novel: grace, prayer and Bible stories are familiar to Jack. After release Ma is questioned about the importance of her faith, she replies simply: “It was… part of what I had to pass on to him.”
It even questions good and bad. This is always a problem for post-modernity: explaining the presence of sin. Ma’s explanation for Jack is that there are “bad” people, like their captor, but far more people in the middle: “Somewhere between good and bad.”
This is masterful story-telling. I never doubted the voice of Jack, and his view of the world having spent all his conscious life in a four-by-four-metre room. It is a work of incredible imagination, and richly deserves its awards and success.
