Emma Donoghue's Room is not a book I would willingly pick up myself and read. There was a pit of dread in my stomach as my book club unanimously agreed to make that our December book, and yet, as we near closer to discussing it next week, I find myself not being able to wait. From the first two sentences of the back-of-the-book synopsis, I knew right off the bat that I absolutely did not want to read this book:
"To five-year-old Jack, Room is the world....It's where he was born, it's where he and his Ma eat and sleep and play and learn. At night, his Ma shuts him safely in the wardrobe, where he is meant to be asleep when Old Nick visits."
Talk about a bad week to be off my antidepressants! But since I flaked on our last book (Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet), I put my big girl pants on, sucked it up, and read my chapter book like a good girl. If you call putting my big girl pants on making a rule that I would only read the book in the daylight, when I wasn't alone, and I'd round out the evening with a Christmas movie.
Having it be written from the perspective of 5-year old Jack is a little off-putting, yet also comforting. You know something awful had to have happened, and since he's five, he's able to better understand the world - or lack thereof - around him, including the circumstances in which he wound up in Room. But you're left to fill in certain pieces of the puzzle yourself which is where I think the book wanders into dangerously depressing territory. It's especially easy for readers - parents or not - to take pause and wonder what on earth they would do if forced in to such a situation.
Although the story is told from the most innocent of perspectives, the twists and turns the story takes are still somewhat surprising. I'll be honest, the entirety of this novel is a heart-pumper! I found myself on the metaphorical edge of my seat right up until the very last page.
There are parts - my friend and I agreed - that are a bit far-fetched. But I just keep reminding myself that I'm reading a book, a land where vampires and humans can spawn, so I try not to get caught up in the semantics.
By far the most compelling part of Room is not the story itself, but the way this fictional child is able to spark within us basic questions of humanity. In a flash of a three-word sentence, the reader can find themselves in contemplative thought over their own life and how they are contributing to society: "Everything just repeats;" or, "in Outside everyone is always stressed." And if only it were still as easy as counting our teeth in order to feel calm and secure.
Room makes us look at the world - "Outside" - a little differently than we have before, if only for just a moment. For that, it is a definitely worth a carry in your tote.
