In some ways it was good that I read this right after A Child Called "It". It was fresh in my memory and any of the facts that were written in one book, I could easily compare it to that last book.
In other ways, I think I should have waited a little while. I think I held such sympathy for David that hearing any other tale, even if it agreed with it, was difficult for me. I know that a part of my brain was thinking that Richard deserved what he got, and I know for a fact that that is wrong, wrong, wrong. No one deserved that. Still, a selfish little part of my brain wanted him to suffer like David did. Does that make me a horrible person?
This book was not really as detailed as the other, but the feelings evoked were similar. More than anything, it re-iterated the fact that the mother was very, very sick and that the figures of authority in and around the area where these people lived was despicable. The police in the area only took away the one child from an abusive, alcoholic parent with no income and a history of violence? They left four other boys there with her? And the other people around ignored the behavior as it was repeated a second time? Teachers? Principals? Doctors?
What the fuck was wrong with this town?!
I understand that it was San Francisco in the 70's, but holy shit...
Also, one thing that didn't sit right with me was the ending of the book. You never learn what happens to Richard. He's still living with her at the end of the book and you never find out if he stays until he leaves for college, or if he gets out sooner, or if the mom moved on to yet another son with her abuse...
I need to know these things, guys. For science. And my own piece of mind (AKA: my creepy case of Schadenfreud).
I think I'm done with books about child abuse for a while. (Edit: That's a lie. I have one more to get through right now. Don't judge me.)
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