Model Family?

I've decided to read one of the worse books in town. I decided so knowing that the book would be bad, it's just like I didn't expect it to be so bad. No, it's not as horrendously bad as "Chasing Harry Winston", which still holds the undeliable title of "worse book ever written in the History of the Universe", but 43 pages into it (from 252), this book "The Shack" is coming dangerously close to a very disputed second place in the dubious ranking, defeating by far many other terrible books I've ever read.

If you recall, this is the book my shepherd recommended, and the one that was discussed last Thursday at the Bible Group or whatever they call the gathering. (I'm still not clear about the actual name of it.) Let's start with the fact that a lot of people mentioned (okay, all of them), that the book had been poorly written, and that half way through it, it can't be called a novel at all. Honestly, I didn't expect the book to be so severely challenged in the writing department, as it not only leans heavily on bad clichés, to the point of making the whole thing feel too fake to be real, but it also misuses clichés. Let's not enter into the land of the mistakes that happen all over, like the guy grabbing a blanket and a pillow to go to the livingroom to watch TV, and as he's watching the TV, he curles on the bed. Livingroom-bed, you see it? And this is OREGON, US, with a huge house, where the mailbox is over 600 feet away from the house entrance. Two paragraphs appart on the same page! Or saying that out of the two girls one is in college and the other is around six, but as Daddy bids them goodnight, he bids "his little girls goodnight".

43 pages into the book, and that's roughly the 20% of the book, a fifth of the book, and the characters are loose, there's no definition to them, but a lot of contradictions regarding the main character, very utilitary depictions of two other characters and the rest can't be described in any other way but as "filling". Actually, there are two sons, the older ones, that are conveniently sent away, discarded from the begining. Then why create them in the first place? It's not that's an inefficient use of characters, but it's simply noise in the story.

I was already upset that after an introduction where the main character, Mack, is described as a smart guy who grew up in a farm, with rough hands from working the land, who ran away and became a globetrotter, wants to curl up with a book and a cup of hot wine. Kinda so-so relationship with God, but he prays constantly every step of the way. So... straight, farm educated, Generic Christians living in Oregon relax like New York women and gay men, and pray more than devoted Catholics. Interesting.

Sure, it could be that he really enjoy books and wine, and walk around in pyjama bottoms (instead of track pants or boxers), but the book doesn't give you the frame to click this into the picture. The most upsetting character of all is, however, Nan, the wife. Nan is the perfect wife: deeply devoted to God, with a firm, deep connection to Him, personal and strong, but she's also "the mortar that holds the family together". She's the one who gave up a promising career as doctor to have five children (two of which are entirely disposable, other two that are filling and excuse, one who's the saint, the favorite and the excuse to make the main character a martyr), and became a nurse who takes care of terminal patients of cancer and has written and held conferences about helping the dying get in touch with God again. Because there's no other job a nurse can do, but to talk about God to the patients, and because there's no other groundbreaking field about which a nurse could talk about.

From the first moment on it raised my attention how Nan's character was left empty of personality. Her sole job and calling was to be a Mother. She sacrifices herself, her life, her dreams, her expectations, her personality and individuality on the altar of family and society, to serve and run like an invisible maid making sure everybody has a happy and uneventful life. Her hole existence is about servitude. She takes care of teh dying, she takes care of the children and she takes care of her husband, who also acts as a child. She makes decisions and severely decides one way or the other, while Mack is more like a buddy for his children. Then, as the younger child disappears, Mack's wish is to have Nan close so she can make things better. This is down right outrageous. The main character is so absorbed in his selfish pain, that he doesn't stop to think fir a moment how will his wife take the news, but he wants her close so she can confort him.

43 pages into the book and the model Christian family was laid out before my eyes in the full glory of it's grotesque shape. The family should be big, but the kids themselves didn't matter much, just the favorite one. Kids should act unnaturally mature, devoted and bordering saint, expressing a desperate desire to sacrifice themselves for their parents and all sorts of small matters. This family, however, is entirely the responsability of the Mother, which is such a demanding, absorbing role, that sucks out all traces of individuality and humanity from the woman. The mother becomes "family" and as such, it is her personal responsability to make sure the whole cluster holds together and are well served. Sure, she can be bossy, but under no circumstance she can stop serving them. She takes the kids a state away, husband stays home unable to go out due to the weather, and when she comes home with the kids after a long trip, she must put the food on the table. She makes sure things are packed for the vacations she won't participate in, and she puts away her pain to help others deal with theirs.

Not one person rebuked this image. Yes, this is an ideal family and that's the role a woman should take, and must do so with a wide smile plastered on her face, yearning fervently to do so, thinking of her sacrifice as an act of love she can't wait to perform. Why the mother? Why only her? She's a depersonalized center, a servant for a group of individuals that connect to it and serve themselves from it, but give nothing in return. Is this supposed to be desirable? Is this supposed to be healthy?

Reading such an atrocity shines the light of sense and realization about why the childfree and the woman who don't want to marry are so despised. Yes, the childfree and the singles prove that women are not only entitled to have an individual personality and an individual life, but that they can be fucking happy with it. Any asshole with a working womb and healthy eggs can have babies. Drug addicts and young teen girls have them by the dozen, but not everybody can push up in life by themselves and stand on their own feet, head held high and show that they are good at what they do. Not everybody gets to be a successful lawyer, not everybody can be elboy deep into a fascinating research, and not everybody can pursue their deepest dreams.

Childfree and singles show that women and men are equal, that a vagina doesn't make you automatically to want a husband and a family, but that you can also dream to become the champion of the Forma-1, or the winner of a Nobel prize. A vagina doesn't mean that your deepest desires are about helping others, nurturing others and sacrificing yourself for others.

Would have the story suffered so much if the mother had a personality of herself, or if the father would be a bit more active in the family chores? If the number of children would have been less? The story is terribly crappy as it is, a blatant advertisement for a way of life that's anything but natural, mingled to a devotion to God that speaks about someone who doesn't really know God at all, but rather has a close relationship with the church, and firmly believe that God and the church are one and the same thing.

43 pages into it and the book is a disappointment. But that's okay, for the writer made sure to state at the begining that if you didn't like the book "Sorry, this book wasn't primordially intended for you" (quoted, and poorly translated from Hungarian, from The Shack, by William P. Young). Yeah, a cheap trick, I know. This should warn you, in case you intend to read his crap.

So far, if you intend to read this book, I recommend you to keep a bag or a bucket close, in case you need to puke. It's excellent, however, if you want to try bulimia.