- Chicago Tribune: Unfolds from an absolutely gripping premise, drawing you deeply and irrevocably into the entangled lives of two families and the devastating secret that shaped them both. I loved this riveting story.
- Sue Monk Kidd: Anyone would be struck by the extraordinary power and sympathy of "The Memory Keepers Daughter.
- Sena Jeter Naslund: Kim Edwards has created a tale of regret and redemption, of honest emotion, of characters haunted by their past. This is simply a beautiful book.
Caroline, the nurse and a single woman who believes her real life has not yet begun, prepares to take the infant to the 'home' but on arriving finds it such a horrific place, is unable to leave her there. And another of the powerful, life-altering decisions are made: Caroline decides to keep the child herself. She is not impulsive woman but a careful, conservative one so she does not run away with the child. A careful but quick departure is planned and executed.
And so the novel has presented us with powerful moral issues in its first pages. Even so early in the narrative, the reader feels a certain empathy for both David, the physician and Caroline, the nurse. We know these are basically good people; not evil or malevolent. These are well-intentioned choices.
Kim Edwards has said in an interview that a paster at her church 'gave' her the story -- planted the seed for the novel that grew overtime until later, a friend re-told a family tale of a brother who was institutionalized because of a genetic or birth defect.
The story unfolds around secrets and lies . . . lives built on lies . . . and how the lies shaped their lives and their marriage . . . and the secret silences that filled their homes, their hearts.
David felt he knew precisely the medical prognosis of the twin. He predicted a short life of illness, respiratory and cardiac problems. A short life of intellectual, physical, developmental retardation. A short life would be a sad and frustrating burden on the family.
A personal memoire: it is 1967. February in Massachusetts just after a blizzard. I have just come home from the hospital with my second child, Jonathan. Throughout the 4 or 5 days in the hospital I worried that 'something' wasn't 'right' but this was actively and vociferously denied by the ob-gyn and the staff pediatrician. At home, Jonathan was too quiet. Didn't seem to get hungry. Didn't cry. But he did have a frightening wheeze. I never left him alone; I carried him with me everywhere, from room to room. Finally, frightened, I phoned our pediatrician with my concerns; he agreed to stop by our house to look at Jonathan. (Yes, that was done in 1967. Imagine.) This doctor was a good doctor, one I liked and respected. He examined Jonathan. Held him over one large hand and let the arms and legs fall loosely, as in a mini-APGAR. Jonathan had no instinct or the ability to try to 'save' himself. The doctor turning to me said, "this is a mongol baby, you know; you'll have to institutionalize". To protect the child? To save the family? The town? The schools? What? Why? We did not institutionalize Jonathan.
are we a more enlightened society?
We have the right to education act
the civil rights of the disabled
and the ADA.
closed our state institutions.
But do we really have a more generous
attitude towards people with disabilities?
1 comment:
I read this book. It made me very sad, & mad! Wanted to wring that father's neck! What an idiot!
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