I have strong feelings about spoilers (just don’t). When reviewing a book, I err on the side of not saying much about the plot – that’s what blurbs are for and, if that’s not enough, you can head over to Goodreads where there’s always someone who has given a blow-by-blow account of the story.
As I’ve said previously, when I read a review, I want to know about how people felt when they read a particular book. Especially if they feel like this:
But sometimes you need to discuss a book, and that discussion involves a spoiler. I did it here (for The Other Typist).
There were elements of Meg Mason’s glorious, heart-breaking and funny novel, Sorrow and Bliss, that demand discussion.
If you haven’t read the book, go and do so.
If you have read it, you’ll know that I’m talking about the —.
In the story, Martha’s mental illness, which is not diagnosed until late in the book, is never named, but referred to as —. When I first saw this, I wondered if it was because I had a very early ARC, and perhaps there was some fact-checking still to be done.
And then I felt a little frustrated – what was she diagnosed with?! I wanted to know!
And then I thought that not labeling Martha’s illness was a deliberate creative decision, and by doing so, Mason forced me to think about the impact of labels, and particularly what they mean in terms of mental health. Really, what Martha ‘has’ is beside the point – what is important is how she lives, and how she relates to others.
The end of the book features this disclaimer:
In other words, stop trying to work out Martha’s diagnosis.
But I’m curious by nature (and in possession of a copy of the DSM), so I did speculate… and lots of the traits typical to bipolar are there. Theresa and I had a chat after we’d finished our ARCs, and she pointed out that possibly, by not naming Martha’s diagnosis, there’s the notion that what she has is ‘unmentionable’, which only perpetuates the stigma. Interesting.
So with thoughts about mental illness, labels, and stigma in mind, I was keen to hear Meg Mason speak. It was a Zoom author event, and as soon as the host said they were happy to take questions, I jumped in to ask about the ‘creative decision’ to not name Martha’s illness.
Mason said that she began writing Sorrow and Bliss with a condition in mind, but quickly ditched it because she didn’t want to “…badly describe someone’s experience, or diminish it.” She went on to say how that decision linked to the fact that Martha seeks a diagnosis for many, many years and in the interim, her relationships are impacted by her mental health –
“The reason I redacted it was that it didn’t matter. Plus, I wanted the reader to experience some of Martha’s frustration – it’s right there, but just out of grasp.”
Mason went on to say that by not naming the condition, more readers might identify with parts of Martha’s experience. I think Mason achieves this – a label leads you down a path of assumptions and generalisations. Instead, the reader shares Martha’s uncertainty, and it’s done exceptionally well.
What did you think of the use of the — in Sorrow and Bliss? Did it push you to think about the use of labels in regards to mental illness?