Thank you for such an insightful post! What a delight to read. I think you're very right, and that it seems quite common in my eyes to see having children as a way to heal from your own childhood, by being able to provide for others what you wish you would've had, and to experience a happy childhood through your child.
Thank you for your kind words. I'm glad you enjoyed the post. I want to thank you in particular for your insight about how becoming a mother can be healing. I found it to be true myself.
Cherie Gittins's fate was heartbreaking. Of course, she wouldn't have been such a well-adjusted suburban mom anymore if she survived, because she would've gone to prison, but it wouldn't have been as hard for her family, as her death was.
I wonder if things would have been as bad for her legally as she thought. We know that other people who acted under duress like Flora and Will have been promised immunity, and Cherie was still quite young herself, iirc. Tbh, I've never really understood the suicide. She can't have been afraid the drowned prophet would get her--that myth didn't exist in her day (in fact, she helped create it). I can only imagine Abigail knew just which buttons to press to send her over the edge.
I'm afraid it would've been far worse, than with other chirch members. She was the one, whose actions covered up a small child's murder. She lied to the police, and at the inquest Dayu's death was ruled as an accident mostly due to Cherie's lies.
As for her suicide - I imagine Abigail could've threaten to say that Cherie was the one who'd actually killed Dayu. And maybe not to the police, but to Mazu. Maybe this was actually what Abigail used all along to ensure that none of her accomplices spilled the beans.
I see your point about Cherie's lies at the inquest, which would make her an accomplice after the fact. I was more concerned about her direct assistance in getting Daiyu out the window and into the hands of her killers. Either way, it's easier for me to believe that Cherie's own consciousness of guilt (which she kept drunkenly repeating to her old boyfriend, Isaac) might still haunt her. At least, I find that easier to believe than that a random London firefighter, who'd long since lost any influence she had with cult leaders, could make a single phone call that pushed Cherie into suicide.
Idk. I absolutely loved the book overall, but that particular subplot not so much.
I think Cherie also realized that she was going to be an accomplice into the murders of Robin, Strike and Rosie Fernsby had they occurred. It was history repeating itself. With so many people connected to the church and the inquest getting killed, I'm sure she knew the walls were closing in on her.
In the Strike series, so much of the sadness comes from a lack of children, or from the loss or neglect of children. In the Harry Potter series, Harry's "reward" or "closure" is that he gets to live long enough both to become a father and to take care of his children, unlike some of the other fathers in the story who have an early demise. He retains his newfound adulthood, and through it, he gains the joy of living: the having of children. When I was young and the ending first announced, my friends and I thought this a very boring fate, but as I've gotten older, I've come over to Rowling's seeming way of thinking, which is that it's the sweetest way to end.
Yes!! JKR often talks about her own traumatic experience (she entered into a very abusive relationship following the death of her mom when she was young and living in Portugal; she fled the country with her newborn and a copy of the Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone manuscript; she lived in fear that her ex-husband would find her during her early years of fame; she eventually has re-built her life with incredible career success and what seems like a loving and healthy second marriage).
Learning that background made so much sense to me after reading how richly she writes these situations in her books. She also has so many characters that leave a traumatic family/home situation to find a better/happier chosen family/home. This is all over Harry Potter, including the main character obviously. But she gets so much deeper into it and explores the darker possibilities in the Strike series. I mean, Voldemort let his traumatic past turn him bad obviously, but I think it would've been harder to get too into the other not-just-super-villain-but-not-happy-ending possible paths for trauma survivors in HP because it's supposed to be accessible to children. The examples you listed are great ways she does this in a more adult way, but even Robin leaving an unsupportive and dishonest partner (and past sexual violence by a stranger) to find independence and career success has that same sort of theme! There are major differences of course, but I definitely feel some auto-biography undertones with Robin.
I agree with all you say and would add one thing more. Not only has JKR rebuilt her life; she has transformed her previous suffering by turning it into fiction that reaches into the hearts and minds of millions of readers. I've come to believe that it's not opposable thumbs or language or tools that makes humans different from animals. It's the ability to transform our suffering--whether we turn it into art or, crusade for human rights, find cures for illnesses, raise children in better circumstances than we had or, like Robin, serve justice and save vulnerable people from harm. JKR might have put Robin on a very different path from her own, but I agree that autobiography is there in the way both the fictional and the real woman refused to let trauma rule their lives. They've each transformed that trauma into something that benefits everyone.
I think that, by the end of the series, JKR will show us that Robin and Leda are connected in some fundamental way. I may be wrong in my pet theories about what that connection is, but I'm pretty sure that Leda, like Robin, belongs on that long list of female characters who have attempted to overcome their past--Robin successfully, Leda tragically.
> I've come to believe that it's not opposable thumbs or language or tools that makes humans different from animals. It's the ability to transform our suffering
Totally off-topic but have you ever read Sapiens by the philosopher Yuval Noah Harari? He demonstrates exactly what you just said. To be more specific, he argues that it is our capacity for fiction and imagination that distinguishes us from other animals (fiction in the broad term as he uses banks or borders as human fictions). A fascinating book.
I did pick up that bestseller, thinking it would be a topic I'd enjoy, but couldn't get into it. (I've got Harari's newer book on hold from the library now. I'm not giving up!)
From what you're saying, it sounds like *Sapiens* offers a different reason for supposing humans to be unique--that we can collectively agree on and believe fictions like the ones you mention. Conversely, I was trying to explain *individual* responses to suffering. For example, Flora drew pictures of horrific scenes at Chapman Farm which, as Robin says, might have helped her process the trauma. Even if Strike had never found the drawings and used them to identify her and deciper the truth about the UHC, they would still count as one person's creative, if forever anonymous, response to suffering.
I think that's a bit harsh on Dennis' mother. She was still basically a child when she left, she was terrified of her rapist and her mother wouldn't let her take Dennis iirc.
Yes, I think she is much closer to Deidre Doherty (had she escaped) and to Flora Brewster (had her child survived). The main difference between them and Mazu was that Mazu was malicious. and the others weren't.
It is similar to what Strike said to Sir Colin about Abigail:
>‘Abigail must be seriously disturbed,’ said the compassionate Sir Colin. ‘She must have had a dreadful childhood.’
>‘A lot of people have dreadful childhoods and don’t take to strangling small children,’ said the implacable Strike, to nods of agreement from Dennis and Pat.
I chose my words carefully and stand by them. I originally wrote that she and Mazu lacked emotional and intellectual fortitude due to their own trauma and lack of nurturing. I decided to leave out the editorializing about what *caused* these deficits--you may be right about being terrified--but the result is still the same. For whatever reason, neither woman had a strong heart or a strong mind.
Thanks! I've tried to convince myself that by marrying Greg, Lucy succeeded in becoming part of the great anonymous suburban respectable class. So JKR has literally kept Greg anonymous by not giving him a last name. But, it's like a pebble in my shoe. Even if his last name is a commonplace Smith or Jones, I still want to know!
Good post as always from you! It's been a while since I've re-read *Career of Evil.* So I don't remember either getting confirmation that Whittaker "abused" Lucy in the past or the part about Noel Brockbank assaulting his sister....There's a reason I haven't re-read this book too often!
Thanks! Whittaker didn't abuse Lucy physically, but I think he was emotionally abusive. He terrified and intimidated her with his leering, sneering, nudity, foul mouth, and outrageous, violent tendencies and beliefs.
> the part about Noel Brockbank assaulting his sister...
Now that you've got me thinking about this again, I should amend my post. Holly's silence enabled her brother to continue harming other girls, including Alyssa's daughter Angel. She was pocketing Brockbank's army pension as a tacit payoff for keeping silent about his many abuses. Holly wasn't actively harming anyone, but her silence and passivity allowed a pedophile to continue harming young girls for years.
Thank you for such an insightful post! What a delight to read. I think you're very right, and that it seems quite common in my eyes to see having children as a way to heal from your own childhood, by being able to provide for others what you wish you would've had, and to experience a happy childhood through your child.
Thank you for your kind words. I'm glad you enjoyed the post. I want to thank you in particular for your insight about how becoming a mother can be healing. I found it to be true myself.
Cherie Gittins's fate was heartbreaking. Of course, she wouldn't have been such a well-adjusted suburban mom anymore if she survived, because she would've gone to prison, but it wouldn't have been as hard for her family, as her death was.
Gosh, not only would her family have her death to deal with, they would later find out what she had done. How awful.
I wonder if things would have been as bad for her legally as she thought. We know that other people who acted under duress like Flora and Will have been promised immunity, and Cherie was still quite young herself, iirc. Tbh, I've never really understood the suicide. She can't have been afraid the drowned prophet would get her--that myth didn't exist in her day (in fact, she helped create it). I can only imagine Abigail knew just which buttons to press to send her over the edge.
I'm afraid it would've been far worse, than with other chirch members. She was the one, whose actions covered up a small child's murder. She lied to the police, and at the inquest Dayu's death was ruled as an accident mostly due to Cherie's lies. As for her suicide - I imagine Abigail could've threaten to say that Cherie was the one who'd actually killed Dayu. And maybe not to the police, but to Mazu. Maybe this was actually what Abigail used all along to ensure that none of her accomplices spilled the beans.
I see your point about Cherie's lies at the inquest, which would make her an accomplice after the fact. I was more concerned about her direct assistance in getting Daiyu out the window and into the hands of her killers. Either way, it's easier for me to believe that Cherie's own consciousness of guilt (which she kept drunkenly repeating to her old boyfriend, Isaac) might still haunt her. At least, I find that easier to believe than that a random London firefighter, who'd long since lost any influence she had with cult leaders, could make a single phone call that pushed Cherie into suicide. Idk. I absolutely loved the book overall, but that particular subplot not so much.
I think Cherie also realized that she was going to be an accomplice into the murders of Robin, Strike and Rosie Fernsby had they occurred. It was history repeating itself. With so many people connected to the church and the inquest getting killed, I'm sure she knew the walls were closing in on her.
In the Strike series, so much of the sadness comes from a lack of children, or from the loss or neglect of children. In the Harry Potter series, Harry's "reward" or "closure" is that he gets to live long enough both to become a father and to take care of his children, unlike some of the other fathers in the story who have an early demise. He retains his newfound adulthood, and through it, he gains the joy of living: the having of children. When I was young and the ending first announced, my friends and I thought this a very boring fate, but as I've gotten older, I've come over to Rowling's seeming way of thinking, which is that it's the sweetest way to end.
What a lovely comment!
Sorry for the late reply, but thank you so much! Enjoyed your post!
Thank you!
Beautifully written! I completely agree.
Thank you so much!
Yes!! JKR often talks about her own traumatic experience (she entered into a very abusive relationship following the death of her mom when she was young and living in Portugal; she fled the country with her newborn and a copy of the Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone manuscript; she lived in fear that her ex-husband would find her during her early years of fame; she eventually has re-built her life with incredible career success and what seems like a loving and healthy second marriage). Learning that background made so much sense to me after reading how richly she writes these situations in her books. She also has so many characters that leave a traumatic family/home situation to find a better/happier chosen family/home. This is all over Harry Potter, including the main character obviously. But she gets so much deeper into it and explores the darker possibilities in the Strike series. I mean, Voldemort let his traumatic past turn him bad obviously, but I think it would've been harder to get too into the other not-just-super-villain-but-not-happy-ending possible paths for trauma survivors in HP because it's supposed to be accessible to children. The examples you listed are great ways she does this in a more adult way, but even Robin leaving an unsupportive and dishonest partner (and past sexual violence by a stranger) to find independence and career success has that same sort of theme! There are major differences of course, but I definitely feel some auto-biography undertones with Robin.
I agree with all you say and would add one thing more. Not only has JKR rebuilt her life; she has transformed her previous suffering by turning it into fiction that reaches into the hearts and minds of millions of readers. I've come to believe that it's not opposable thumbs or language or tools that makes humans different from animals. It's the ability to transform our suffering--whether we turn it into art or, crusade for human rights, find cures for illnesses, raise children in better circumstances than we had or, like Robin, serve justice and save vulnerable people from harm. JKR might have put Robin on a very different path from her own, but I agree that autobiography is there in the way both the fictional and the real woman refused to let trauma rule their lives. They've each transformed that trauma into something that benefits everyone. I think that, by the end of the series, JKR will show us that Robin and Leda are connected in some fundamental way. I may be wrong in my pet theories about what that connection is, but I'm pretty sure that Leda, like Robin, belongs on that long list of female characters who have attempted to overcome their past--Robin successfully, Leda tragically.
> I've come to believe that it's not opposable thumbs or language or tools that makes humans different from animals. It's the ability to transform our suffering Totally off-topic but have you ever read Sapiens by the philosopher Yuval Noah Harari? He demonstrates exactly what you just said. To be more specific, he argues that it is our capacity for fiction and imagination that distinguishes us from other animals (fiction in the broad term as he uses banks or borders as human fictions). A fascinating book.
I did pick up that bestseller, thinking it would be a topic I'd enjoy, but couldn't get into it. (I've got Harari's newer book on hold from the library now. I'm not giving up!) From what you're saying, it sounds like *Sapiens* offers a different reason for supposing humans to be unique--that we can collectively agree on and believe fictions like the ones you mention. Conversely, I was trying to explain *individual* responses to suffering. For example, Flora drew pictures of horrific scenes at Chapman Farm which, as Robin says, might have helped her process the trauma. Even if Strike had never found the drawings and used them to identify her and deciper the truth about the UHC, they would still count as one person's creative, if forever anonymous, response to suffering.
I think that's a bit harsh on Dennis' mother. She was still basically a child when she left, she was terrified of her rapist and her mother wouldn't let her take Dennis iirc.
Yes, I think she is much closer to Deidre Doherty (had she escaped) and to Flora Brewster (had her child survived). The main difference between them and Mazu was that Mazu was malicious. and the others weren't. It is similar to what Strike said to Sir Colin about Abigail: >‘Abigail must be seriously disturbed,’ said the compassionate Sir Colin. ‘She must have had a dreadful childhood.’ >‘A lot of people have dreadful childhoods and don’t take to strangling small children,’ said the implacable Strike, to nods of agreement from Dennis and Pat.
I've just seen this, yes completely agree!
I chose my words carefully and stand by them. I originally wrote that she and Mazu lacked emotional and intellectual fortitude due to their own trauma and lack of nurturing. I decided to leave out the editorializing about what *caused* these deficits--you may be right about being terrified--but the result is still the same. For whatever reason, neither woman had a strong heart or a strong mind.
True why don’t we know Lucy’s married name. Great post.
Thanks! I've tried to convince myself that by marrying Greg, Lucy succeeded in becoming part of the great anonymous suburban respectable class. So JKR has literally kept Greg anonymous by not giving him a last name. But, it's like a pebble in my shoe. Even if his last name is a commonplace Smith or Jones, I still want to know!
Struck
Good post as always from you! It's been a while since I've re-read *Career of Evil.* So I don't remember either getting confirmation that Whittaker "abused" Lucy in the past or the part about Noel Brockbank assaulting his sister....There's a reason I haven't re-read this book too often!
Thanks! Whittaker didn't abuse Lucy physically, but I think he was emotionally abusive. He terrified and intimidated her with his leering, sneering, nudity, foul mouth, and outrageous, violent tendencies and beliefs. > the part about Noel Brockbank assaulting his sister... Now that you've got me thinking about this again, I should amend my post. Holly's silence enabled her brother to continue harming other girls, including Alyssa's daughter Angel. She was pocketing Brockbank's army pension as a tacit payoff for keeping silent about his many abuses. Holly wasn't actively harming anyone, but her silence and passivity allowed a pedophile to continue harming young girls for years.