Surviving Intimate Terrorism, Hedda Nussbaum
It's been a while since I've posted something I've read. It's not to say I haven't been reading; but I've been "dabbling." I was promoted last summer and the job has taken it's toll on me mentally. I get scatterbrained; a little tired sometimes, and I struggle between writing, watching movies, reading and going out and eating food (I do love food). I dabbled in Sons and Lovers by DH Lawrence. Read most of it and really liked it, but then it waned off. I read some of the graphic novel Hell House, and again, things waned. And so on, and so on... Well, to get my mind to read something, I often turn to crimelibrary.com. I get a good fill there and came across the story of Hedda Nussbaum. I found that she wrote a memoir about her experience called Surviving Intimate Terrorism, so I ordered it.Every two pages makes up it's own chapter. Her story is, of course, a "harrowing" one (though I really do hate that word. It's so... dowdy and morose... But then, so is "morose" and I just used that word. They complement each other well!). It's easy to see while you're reading that she wrote children's books. A terrible thing to think about when you're reading about domestic violence and brainwashing, but it is a book, so I think of these things. She often throws in sarcastic language that I believe could simply be a way to seem more human to a reader (as in, You are reading a book about domestic violence, but in case you aren't yet feeling what I felt, I want to remind you that I'm human; I'm not a novelist; I'm not an award winner; I'm not Gabriel Garcia Marquez; I'm a person; A woman. I was beaten), and though the language, when it shows up, is uncomfortable on all literary levels, it does succeed in reminding you that she was simply a woman who was beaten and a child died in the process of it all, as the result of 12 years of heart-chained torture.
It isn't a literary masterpiece and I don't think anybody involved in it's production would claim it to be; but like all memoirs that share intimate details of downfall and mistakes and intimate pain, it's a work of art to be read if only to share the reminder of fallacy, humanity and weakness. I did not get emotional when I read it, but I shared it with a co-worker who cried so much on her couch, her boyfriend asked her if she could maybe read in another room where her snot wouldn't get all over him.
posted by christen roberts @ 10:43 AM
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