From the BLURB:
Rosemary’s young, just at college, and
she’s decided not to tell anyone a thing about her family. So we’re not going
to tell you too much either: you’ll have to find out for yourselves what it is
that makes her unhappy family unlike any other.
Rosemary is now an only child, but she used
to have a sister the same age as her, and an older brother. Both are now gone -
vanished from her life. There’s something unique about Rosemary’s sister, Fern.
So now she’s telling her story; a looping narrative that begins towards the
end, and then goes back to the beginning. Twice. It’s funny, clever, intimate,
honest, analytical and swirling with ideas that will come back to bite you.
2014
has been a very good year for me discovering favourite books … albeit, a few
years after initial publication. ‘Tell the Wolves I’m Home’ by Carol Rifka
Brunt, 'The Borrower' by Rebecca Makkai, ‘Us’ by David Nicholls (actually, this
one was a rarity because I read it as soon as it hit shelves!) and now ‘We are
All Completely Beside Ourselves’ by Karen Joy Fowler.
Karen
Joy Fowler’s eighth novel was shortlisted for this year’s Man Booker Prize, and
won the 2014 PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction. But (and I mean this in the
kindest possible way to all those literati snobs) – don’t let all those
accolades put you off.
When
I first started hearing about ‘We are All Completely Beside Ourselves’ and
noticing the gorgeous sunshiny cover popping up everywhere, I was a bit
hesitant – the blurb didn’t give much of the story away, and I don’t actually
put much stock in literary fiction awards … until David Nicholls’ ‘Us’ was
longlisted for the Man Booker (surprising everyone). I told myself to stop
being so snobby about literary snobbery, and then I read a big WINK-WINK review
that let slip what ‘We are All Completely Beside Ourselves’ is actually about, and
I was intrigued. For that reason, I’m going to write my own review being very
upfront about the sort-of-big reveal in the book (even though hints are dropped
throughout, the reveal comes a little before midway and I’ve even noticed a few
international book covers that have made the “secret” blatantly obvious in the
cover artwork).
So –
here goes – if you don’t want to know the kinda-secret storyline of ‘We are All
Completely Beside Ourselves’ then please stop reading. Just know that I loved
the book, highly recommend it and count it as one of my all-time favourites.
But stop reading as of … NOW!
But stop reading as of … NOW!
For
those of you still willing to read on – ‘We are All Completely Beside Ourselves’
is the story of 22-year-old Rosemary Cooke, whom we meet in 1996 when she’s a
college student. Her brother ran away from home when she was younger, her
father drinks like a fish and her mother is always seemingly on the edge of
another nervous breakdown … and all of this stems from her missing sister,
Fern, who was in fact a chimpanzee.
Yes,
much like Nim Chimpsky, The Kelloggs and Gua – the Cooke family, with their
psychology professor father, enter into a not entirely uncommon
behavioural/language experiment of the 1970s – raising a chimpanzee as human.
Fern arrives in the Cooke household at three months of age, and only one month
after Rosemary is born. The two girls are raised together, along with older
brother Lowell. But when Rose is five-years-old something happens, and Fern is
taken away to live on a farm – an event the repercussions of which are still
being felt in 1996 and beyond, as Rosemary recounts her childhood memories and
triggering events of 96’ that force her to re-examine her upbringing and
emotional scars left by Fern’s disappearance and, later, Lowell’s running away
from home to live the life of an activist.
My parents persisted in pretending we were a close-knit family, a family who enjoyed a good heart-to-heart, a family who turned to each other in times of trial. In light of my two missing siblings, this was an astonishing triumph of wishful thinking; I could almost admire it. At the same time, I am very clear in my own mind. We were never that family.
This
book absolutely broke my heart. At one point, Rose comments that Fern was her
fun-house mirror twin:
She was my twin, my fun-house mirror, my whirlwind other half. It’s important to note that I was also all those things to her. I would say that, like Lowell, I loved her as a sister, but she was the only sister I ever had, so I can’t be sure; it’s an experiment with no control. Still, when I first read ‘Little Women’, it seemed to me I’d loved Fern as much as Jo loved Amy if not as much as Jo loved Beth.
That
struck me (as did the ‘Little Women’ understanding of sisterly bonds) and I
kept thinking that the experiment – indeed, all animal experiments – can be
held up as a fun-house mirror to our own humanity. At one point, Lowell
comments to Rose that such cruel experiments say more about the scientist than
the science – and that is also true, and perhaps a theme of the book. What do
these animals tell us about ourselves, and what does the suffering we inflict
upon them say about us?
The story
has a somewhat wonky timeline that makes perfect sense once you understand how
many memories and emotions Rose has been suppressing, and cannot tap into at a
whim. She admits to starting her story in the middle – 1996, aged 22 – and she
is narrating from somewhere in the future, while going back into her childlike
mind to remember the years growing up with Fern, and immediately after losing
her. The plot feels more like it’s mapped by emotion that any sort of narrative
pattern, and that too makes perfect sense – particularly when I started
wondering if the Cooke family experienced an experiment-within-an-experiment,
that some Big Brother entity was observing them after loss, in the absence of
the one they loved.
Because
it’s set in 1996, the point from which Rose decides to start her tale – we do
get a bit of information about her college life that feels irrelevant, but is
of course offering us a glimpse into her neutral self – when she’s still numb
to the loss of Fern, unquestioning of the events surrounding her disappearance
and choosing not to pry too hard. The arrival of a drama student called Harlow
throws Rose for a loop – and brings out the “monkey girl” in her, that she’s
been suppressing since she lost her sister.
While
reading this book I kept thinking “how has nobody thought to write about this
before?!” Because it is a story-trigger ripe with possibilities and heartbreak,
human examination and disgrace. But, of course, Karen Joy Fowler makes it very
clear in the book where she drew on her wealth of inspiration – name-checking
the many chimpanzee experiments of the last few decades and interweaving the
fictional story of the Cooke family experiment with real events quit
seamlessly, until by the end of the book fact and fiction run together.
There
were whole sentences, paragraphs and ideas that I just wanted to eat up because
they were so delicious. Like Rose reflecting on the first time she saw ‘Star
Wars’, and was disappointed that her brother, when he’d originally recounted
the story to her and Fern, had skewed one minor plot detail:
Unfairness bothers children greatly. When I did finally get to see Star Wars, the whole movie was ruined for me by the fact that Luke and Han got a medal at the end and Chewbacca didn’t.
I adored
this book, and as I said – I’ll now count it as an all-time favourite. I experienced
savage emotions of sadness, disgust and joy while reading – and by the last
page my whole body felt tender as a bruise, such was the emotional impact of
Karen Joy Fowler’s novel.
5/5
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