The narrative is extremely sobering. Death is a destination every single one of us will arrive at, but each one's journey to this end point is very unique. The book explores what it is like to have one's mind fade away well before the body has begun its decay. During the author's time, there was limited knowledge as to how dementia and Alzheimer's disease worked, but it is clear that Claire Temple suffered from one of these kinds of mental decay and we watch her groping around for some semblance of normalcy in the midst of her ailment.
The book is divided into three distinct parts. The first part is called 'Inside the House.' This portion of the book is entirely from Claire's point of view. In fact, we don't even get to know her name here. She could be any woman, waking up in her house, going about her normal routine at a time when the Second World War is raging in the world outside. The setting is a bit surreal, with common folk always keeping an ear out for the sirens that would warn them of a possible bombardment. There are the wardens who patrol the areas under their jurisdiction to ensure that blackouts are in force and no light is allowed to escape from any building.
Claire Temple is an energetic woman, it is clear, considering the amount of running about she has been doing. It is also apparent that her domestic situation is not up to her expectations. One can see the nonchalant rudeness with which her cook Kathleen answers all her queries and orders. We can feel the frustration Claire feels during each interaction. But as we push on further, it gradually becomes obvious that something is not quite right with Claire herself. We are allowed to discover this on our own as the author gently pulls us into the narrative. Claire becomes repetitive, often asking her cook and the washwoman the same questions over and over again, even though they have answered these queries just a while ago. Her mind also seems to run in circles. She keeps forgetting some of the things she planned to do a few minutes ago. She is sharp enough, however, to know that she was meant to do something or say something, but the memory of it is always just out of her reach, increasing her frustrations. Having been a witty and clever woman, a writer who was well known enough in her heyday, she is also aware that her memory is fading away and that there is nothing she can do about it.
The second part of the book is called 'Outside the House.' This portion of the novel shows us the perspective of the people who are in contact with her, her servants and her friends, the few who deign to visit her. It tells us the frustrations they feel whenever they have to deal with a person who has become increasingly repetitive and boring. For instance, when for the umpteenth time Claire wonders if her friend Edith Barlow could move into the house with her sister, despite Edith having patiently refused the offer half a dozen times already:
Edith Barlow drained her coffee-cup before replying. It was worth investigation, she thought, the way repetition drove one to such interior impatience that one had to clench one's hands before replying. It resembled a Chinese form of torture ... they relied on the cumulative effect of a continual drip of water ...So while in the first part of the book our sympathies lie entirely with Claire, in the second part we can easily see why the people around her have become short-tempered and brusque in their dealings with her. People like Kathleen the cook believe that most of Claire's contrariness stems from the bad nature in the woman and not because she is helpless and unaware of the things she says and does. It makes it clear how little people understood the process of dementia in those times.
Sometimes, though the people around her are careful to be kind enough to her, they are provoked into saying sharp and sarcastic things to her, and it is surprising the way a portion of her brain is still lucid enough to know exactly what they mean by their unkind remarks, homing in with unerring instinct on the insult, so much so that they themselves are startled into a moment of embarassment and apology at their momentary lapse of patience.
The third part of the book is called 'The Dark Night of the Imagination.' In this portion of the narrative, Claire slowly becomes worse. Her mental status consumes her and it is now time for her to have a companion who would keep an eye on her and keep her from harm. Miss Jones arrives at her doorstep. Claire is partly relieved with the company and partly resentful. A lively person herself in her younger days, she soon enough finds it hard to tolerate the placid Miss Jones who can sit quietly by the fireside and knit. There are moments when she actually prefers Kathleen who seems more alive to her, even though she displays a lot of rudeness.
As her condition progresses, she begins to become paranoid, often imagining that Kathleen the cook and Miss Jones are in cohorts with one another to poison her and take possession of all her belongings, or worse, drag her to an asylum to be committed as a mad woman. Her paranoia worsens considerably causing her to travel alone to the police station to complain about them, which of course is tolerated humorously by the men there. All this watchfulness on her part soon tires her out tremendously.
Dr Fairfax has been treating her for some years now. He is a kind soul who knows exactly what she is going through. He takes a balanced look at her life, realizing that she had been at a high in her life and therefore her expectations had always been at a higher level; therefore her exit would not be a quiet one. His response is one of compassion and patience. As he visits the house, he watches the women of that household and makes keen observations of their various natures:
Dr Fairfax had time to ponder on the diversity presented by the three women, Mrs Temple, her companion and the maid, as his visits to the house became a matter of daily routine. It seemed to him there was irony in the pattern which had brought them together ... It was like the old parlor game, he thought - animal, vegetable and mineral.
Kathleen, of course, was animal ... resembled most closely a cat ... She had the disinterested detachment of the cat, who so long as there is a comfortable corner remains surveying, but not essentially moved by any of the alarms and excursions round her. And like a cat how she appraised titbits, how unerringly she pounced on those things which were essential to her. Dr Fairfax had more than a suspicion tthat she derived emotional satisfaction from the contemplation of her mistress's more spectacular exhibitions of frenzy.
Miss Jones was vegetable ... the spermatic individual, whose force is quiescent, whose quality of perception dim. Unlike Kathleen, she formed no judgments about Mrs Temple. It was true that Kathleen looked through her own darkened windows, since her judgments were without understanding or compassion. But did Miss Jones look through any window at all? Miss Jones and her like looked out into a world composed of culs-de-sac. Theirs was the negation of imagination. And yet only the dull and the superior would despise Miss Jones. A world without the Joneses would be a world without ballast - an inconceivable world.
Then Mrs Temple, his patient. If she were mineral, it could only be one mineral, quicksilver. And there he had to take leave of his childish fantasy.
This is recommended reading for any avid reader as it explores deep issues that most of us are afraid to understand. And rightly so, perhaps, because we are all mortal and contemplating our end is a hard thing to do. Being based at a time when blackouts were a norm, windows soon become a metaphor to the way people look at the world, and at themselves and their own inner darkness. I found the book very insightful. It is all the more relevant in today's world where lifespans have been increasing and most diseases are now easily treated with advanced technology ... except for mental deterioration, for which there is still no cure. Reading this book would enrich one's life learning process as it eventually deals with acceptance and tolerance of people who no longer have control over their faculties. And the scary truth is, it could happen to any of us.
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