Sunday, 25 February 2018

Dropped Threads 2: More of What We Aren't Told


Readers will again experience the shock of recognition that comes from bumping up against thoughts and feelings that mirror their own. Other writers expose us to unfamiliar terrain, dark patches of brutality or misfortune that many of us may never experience personally. What is common to each of these accounts, though, is a journey to the heart of one woman's private experience that she wants – and needs – to tell others.


Editor Marjorie Anderson wrote the above in the Introduction to Dropped Threads 2 and it pretty much captures what makes this collection of essays different from the first volume in this series (Dropped Threads): while the first attempted to capture some underdiscussed but universal women's experiences, this volume is darker; more focussed on the negative. Writers outline sudden widowhood, divorce, domestic abuse and rape, failing to bond with a newborn, the heartbreak of infertility (and the helplessness of overfertility and requiring several abortions while your best friend remains barren). More than one woman rides the crest of second-wave feminism into lesbianism; more than one confronts a breast cancer diagnosis. Compared to the first collection, I had very few moments of personal connection to these experiences, but ultimately, I still felt privileged to read these women's truths; it's still a remarkable thing for the editors to have assembled all these stories in one volume.

It wouldn't feel appropriate to “evaluate” the narratives that were forged in these writers' most painful experiences, but I will note that I was interested by the number of them who fought to carve out a space in which to record their own truths (from Alison Wearing, who allowed herself to be overshadowed by her more famous author boyfriend until she broke free; to Carole Sabiston, who sold off everything to move with her toddler son to Spain and concentrate on her fibre art); so many of these women describe waiting for a few quiet hours while their children slept in order to work on their novels and art. A few random quotes that asked to be noted:



• What's incredible is that it almost bores me to write this. I have lived these thoughts so long that everything seems tedious. Redundant. Difficult to imagine as something you would even care to read. I don't want your pity. Everything I need to be here writing this is already mine; otherwise I would be dead. It's that simple. Pamela Mala Sinha in Hiding

• Now I stare at these words and wonder how I managed to pull them out without breaking apart. Recalled one by one, the scattered memories had always been manageable. Combined, they felt heavier and more lethal. Lisa Gregoire in Northern Lights and Darkness

I was a spoiled, immature twenty-year-old and scared stiff something awful would happen to my child and everyone would blame me. Motherhood was the final exam; I hadn't studied and got caught cheating. C. J. Papoutsis in They Didn't Come With Instructions

• Anti-Semitism was the shard of glass in the pale custard of Toronto society. Michele Landsberg in Don't Say Anything



I would also like to note that many of these contributors are from generations before me, writing about “the patriarchy” in a way that feels dated (but as a time capsule of thought, still valuable). And I knew that I would find kneejerk anti-Americanism in Maude Barlow's contribution on travelling with an NGO to Iraq in 1991 (they have endured horrible deprivation under the U.S. embargo that has killed so many children and crippled the economy of their country) and was unsurprised to find it again in Sandra Beardsall's piece on travelling to the poorest corner of India (even as the West rained terror just over the northwestern horizon in the opening volleys of the Gulf War); contributions from only one political point-of-view seems to undermine the aim of universality. But, I suppose, that's the nature of collecting personal stories from thirty-five different women: there's an unevenness to the pieces that led to an unevenness in my enjoyment, but the experience was overwhelmingly positive; I'm not certain this is aimed at my enjoyment. There's truth here and I am a grateful witness.