Have you ever wondered what draws people into a cult, or what keeps them there? Do cults always start with good intentions and end in tears? Although neither of these novels can give us all the answers, they do provide interesting insights into what it’s like to outsource your autonomy to a community with a megalomaniac at the helm. Both are informed by real cases: the first in contemporary Britain, the second in 1970s USA.
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Nina X by Ewan Morrison
Ever since she learned to write, Nina has kept a record of her daily activities. But it’s worlds away from an ordinary girl’s secret diary. For one thing, she can only refer to herself as Nina or, better still, The Project, and must erase the words I and me along with other narcissistic offshoots of capitalism. For another, her account is regularly scrutinised by the adults with whom she shares the house she never leaves, and is corrected to keep the ideology pure.
For her entire twenty-eight years, she’s been the subject of an experiment to raise a new kind of human, the embodiment of Mao’s teaching that not even one’s thoughts are one’s own. But something must have gone awry because, when the novel opens, Nina has left the commune and is trying to adapt to a totally topsy-turvy world. Simultaneously, the overstretched London health and social care system is trying to adapt to Nina, and to figure out what kind of help she needs.
Narrated through Nina’s notebooks, dipping back and forth between the present and the early years of the current millennium, the voice is beguiling from the first page. We see directly the impact of the erasure as words, sentences and whole paragraphs appear in paler font. Although her plight is pitiful, there’s humour in her naivety, as there is in the muddling through of service providers who are well-meaning but unprepared for a case like hers. But Ewan Morrison doesn’t play the situation for laughs; there’s a deep well of compassion, and intelligence, at the heart of the story.
The author also explored the struggle for selfhood in a casualty of communal living in his previous novel, Close Your Eyes, but Nina’s segregation from society is perhaps more extreme. But how damaged is she by her physically and emotionally abusive upbringing? How much recovery can we expect?
Although I enjoyed the interplay of optimism and pessimism between the different services, each picking up on only part of the picture, and the exposure of the limitations of statutory support for any vulnerable adult, I was a little sceptical about the reliance on psychological assessment tools designed for a very different population. But the real-life versions of these characters would have had to work with what was available under increasing pressure of time. I was satisfied by the ambiguity of the ending, with hope, but not too rosy, and a breakthrough via self-compassion and discovering elixir in truth.
Ewan Morrison’s seventh novel is published by Fleet who provided my review copy. If you’re interested in issues of idealism and identity or if you’re curious about cults and / or the care of vulnerable adults, this novel is well worth your time.
For her entire twenty-eight years, she’s been the subject of an experiment to raise a new kind of human, the embodiment of Mao’s teaching that not even one’s thoughts are one’s own. But something must have gone awry because, when the novel opens, Nina has left the commune and is trying to adapt to a totally topsy-turvy world. Simultaneously, the overstretched London health and social care system is trying to adapt to Nina, and to figure out what kind of help she needs.
Narrated through Nina’s notebooks, dipping back and forth between the present and the early years of the current millennium, the voice is beguiling from the first page. We see directly the impact of the erasure as words, sentences and whole paragraphs appear in paler font. Although her plight is pitiful, there’s humour in her naivety, as there is in the muddling through of service providers who are well-meaning but unprepared for a case like hers. But Ewan Morrison doesn’t play the situation for laughs; there’s a deep well of compassion, and intelligence, at the heart of the story.
The author also explored the struggle for selfhood in a casualty of communal living in his previous novel, Close Your Eyes, but Nina’s segregation from society is perhaps more extreme. But how damaged is she by her physically and emotionally abusive upbringing? How much recovery can we expect?
Although I enjoyed the interplay of optimism and pessimism between the different services, each picking up on only part of the picture, and the exposure of the limitations of statutory support for any vulnerable adult, I was a little sceptical about the reliance on psychological assessment tools designed for a very different population. But the real-life versions of these characters would have had to work with what was available under increasing pressure of time. I was satisfied by the ambiguity of the ending, with hope, but not too rosy, and a breakthrough via self-compassion and discovering elixir in truth.
Ewan Morrison’s seventh novel is published by Fleet who provided my review copy. If you’re interested in issues of idealism and identity or if you’re curious about cults and / or the care of vulnerable adults, this novel is well worth your time.
Beautiful Revolutionary by Laura Elizabeth Woollett
Evelyn and Lenny’s marriage is young and vulnerable when they set up home in Evergreen Valley, California, in the summer of 1968. He’s got a job in a mental hospital: alternative service to avoid the Vietnam draft. Along with the war, a spate of assassinations contributes to a climate of fear. But Evelyn, unaccustomed to living with Lenny without other students around, is more bored than afraid, despite her part-time teaching job. Will Jim Jones, charismatic leader of the Peoples Temple save her?
Despite her professed atheism, she’s soon attending regular services, dragging Lenny along. But Jim Jones’ church is more about sham healing than religion, and building a community untainted by capitalism and the racial segregation that blights the rest of the US. Evelyn quickly finds favour with the Reverend; Lenny does not. And because Jim Jones controls everything, they’re soon divorced and Lenny’s married to someone else. His former wife has a special place at the minister’s side, partly thanks to his practice of one-to-one counselling which today we’d label grooming and rape.
I found myself sucked into this novel the way members were sucked into the community, pulled further into the story with every page. But, while I could appreciate how difficult it was for participants to leave the community – especially after a staged attack on the leader legitimises the establishment of an armed security squad – I wasn’t convinced by Jim Jones’ appeal. And the large cast of characters did have me wondering, despite the list at the beginning of the book, who was who. Nevertheless, thanks to Scribe who provided my review copy, I found it an engaging read, especially when they get to Guyana and both Lenny’s and Jim’s craziness is out of control.
Despite her professed atheism, she’s soon attending regular services, dragging Lenny along. But Jim Jones’ church is more about sham healing than religion, and building a community untainted by capitalism and the racial segregation that blights the rest of the US. Evelyn quickly finds favour with the Reverend; Lenny does not. And because Jim Jones controls everything, they’re soon divorced and Lenny’s married to someone else. His former wife has a special place at the minister’s side, partly thanks to his practice of one-to-one counselling which today we’d label grooming and rape.
I found myself sucked into this novel the way members were sucked into the community, pulled further into the story with every page. But, while I could appreciate how difficult it was for participants to leave the community – especially after a staged attack on the leader legitimises the establishment of an armed security squad – I wasn’t convinced by Jim Jones’ appeal. And the large cast of characters did have me wondering, despite the list at the beginning of the book, who was who. Nevertheless, thanks to Scribe who provided my review copy, I found it an engaging read, especially when they get to Guyana and both Lenny’s and Jim’s craziness is out of control.
 | I doubt Charli had cults in mind when she called for a 99-word story about the work of many hands. But what could I do other than go where the prompt leads? |
The price of perfection
It began with a single dreamer, but many hands were needed to make it real. Our backs didn’t ache so much when we toiled together. Our stomachs didn’t grumble. The sun didn’t scorch. Blisters didn’t sting. And if ever our drive should desert us, Father would grant us his counsel; a late-night pep-talk to renew our commitment to the Cause.
When Father dreamt my husband was a Judas, many hands were needed to implement the punishment he deserved. It saddened me, but the road to Righteousness is strewn with thorns. Mindful of my duty, I threw the first rock.
It began with a single dreamer, but many hands were needed to make it real. Our backs didn’t ache so much when we toiled together. Our stomachs didn’t grumble. The sun didn’t scorch. Blisters didn’t sting. And if ever our drive should desert us, Father would grant us his counsel; a late-night pep-talk to renew our commitment to the Cause.
When Father dreamt my husband was a Judas, many hands were needed to implement the punishment he deserved. It saddened me, but the road to Righteousness is strewn with thorns. Mindful of my duty, I threw the first rock.
I thought I already had a flash about Jonestown, but I was getting my American cults confused. But, if you follow the link, you’ll find my 99-word story about the mass suicide of the members of Heaven’s Gate. The nearest thing I’ve found to a cult in my longer fiction is my short story “The Invention of Harmony” from my collection on the theme of identity, Becoming Someone. Here I am reading the opening:
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