The portrayal of the much longed for but brief telephone call home is brilliantly done: from the materiality of the telephone and that small finger struggling to pull the stiff dial around to its stopping point to the "desire meeting agony" on suddenly hearing her beloved parents' voices. This is such a powerful motif of homesickness at boarding school. Anyone who has experienced that feeling will relive it through Emma Parsons' beautiful capturing of it. The Introduction to Chapter 2 is also fascinating. Who knew that the great George Orwell regularly wet his bed at school and was punished for it? How many other luminaries of the British establishment carried these early childhood humiliations from boarding school into their adult lives?
Gosh, this is taking me back to childhood, although I didn't experience the trauma of being sent away to school. I can feel the hazy fuzz of memories unravelling, painful emotion and the innocence of things when we're young. This is brilliantly written and I'm very much looking forward to reading on xx
Imagining a miracle, hoping for a miracle, requesting a miracle to come and get you, and there must have been wondering if a miracle request will ever be answered or why wasn't it? I read this with such deep sadness at what you lived and try to imagine the parent perspectives, intentions, and how a parent grapples with the sadness of a child in an age when it was common to hear something like "chin up." Ultimately, how do we truly hear, see, feel the pain of children and step into their shoes? I once did a presentation to parents, with shoes of all sizes lined up on the stage, saying we so often want to project that children can walk in adult shoes rather than realizing that we need to walk in children's shoes and truly honor the difference. Also, the whole topic of intentions of or parents as we reexamine our lives.
You go right to the heart of a small girl about to be abandoned at a boarding school, with all the sweetness of innocence mixed with dread, anxiety and suppressed sobs. Trying to be brave and put on a false smile. That phone call so vividly described - an oasis of happiness and excitement - but after hearing beloved parents' voices, such a downfall into a deep pit of loneliness and longing.
What ghastly institutions some boarding schools were (and still are?).
From the escape beyond the school gates to the ox blood, red rubber sheet drying in full view on the washing line; from the humiliations in the gymnasium to the fraught, rare and desperate phone calls; the mounting suspense and menacing fear of the cruel matron- these and other fragments of memory capture so well the desolation, loneliness and yearning for love and safety… for home. Having been to boarding school myself, much of this hits deeply. Feelings are buried as a child, unfathomed and unarticulated. The split between the narrator and child, the I and you, powerfully compound the feeling of this fractured self.
It’s not an easy read - the pain penetrates through - but so exquisitely written. In some ways, it is consoling to read such intense emotions, some shared by many boarding school survivors, laid bare.
You squeeze the tangled, raw memories into a gut knotting ball.
Thank you so much for this wonderful comment. It’s so moving for me to know that it resonates with the experience of someone else who has been to boarding school. Love ‘gut knotting ball’. You may see this appear in a future chapter!
It’s heartbreaking Emma. I read it immediately but couldn’t comment until now because it’s really painful to engage with and I am a wimp who never experienced boarding school but perhaps felt the ripples from others who did. I echo Laila’s comments about your brilliant descriptions of the material. I think the split voice is really interesting and at the moment makes total sense and absolutely nails the unreliability of memory. I wonder if you will keep that up all the way though or if sometimes it fades in and out as the memories become clearer and then more hazy… just a question not a suggestion! Bravo.
Thank you so much for this really thoughtful and interesting comment, Ruby. Your insight makes me think. In a good, useful way! And btw there’s nothing wimpish about not having been to boarding school.
Dear Emma, I can’t call this brilliant because it’s heartbreaking being taken back to what this poor little girl is going through … but it is brilliant that you’ve managed to create such a moving account so vividly . The you and I split voice manages to retrieve what is so hard about conveying memories, not just the facts but the feelings of being there. I thought your comment to one of your reader’s comments was spot on in making the point that is so true of childhood experience even among children of privileged backgrounds: ‘being accompanied by that jeopardy was so normalised’. I’m not sure I can wait to read this week by week - I might save it up to binge!
Good to read an account by a girl! Have you read Trivial Pursuits by Frazer Harrison? It is a great account of a boy’s experience. It’s many years since I read it but I remember him struggling with the question that he knew his parents loved him so they must think that this was the best thing for him but his experience didn’t bear that out. I look forward to more from you
Thank you, Claire. Yes, very little out there about girls. Thank you for recommending Trivial Pursuits. I’ll read it. I recommend Alex Renton’s Stiff Upper Lip too - an investigation of abuse in boarding schools. Boys again.
This is such strong writing, Emma, dark and frightening. I feel I’m there with the little girl, hoping, wishing and, ultimately, coping. It’s brave to share this story. Thank you for all the “truths.”
The portrayal of the much longed for but brief telephone call home is brilliantly done: from the materiality of the telephone and that small finger struggling to pull the stiff dial around to its stopping point to the "desire meeting agony" on suddenly hearing her beloved parents' voices. This is such a powerful motif of homesickness at boarding school. Anyone who has experienced that feeling will relive it through Emma Parsons' beautiful capturing of it. The Introduction to Chapter 2 is also fascinating. Who knew that the great George Orwell regularly wet his bed at school and was punished for it? How many other luminaries of the British establishment carried these early childhood humiliations from boarding school into their adult lives?
Gosh, this is taking me back to childhood, although I didn't experience the trauma of being sent away to school. I can feel the hazy fuzz of memories unravelling, painful emotion and the innocence of things when we're young. This is brilliantly written and I'm very much looking forward to reading on xx
Thank you, Becca. I’m so glad it resonates with your own experience despite not having been to boarding school.
Imagining a miracle, hoping for a miracle, requesting a miracle to come and get you, and there must have been wondering if a miracle request will ever be answered or why wasn't it? I read this with such deep sadness at what you lived and try to imagine the parent perspectives, intentions, and how a parent grapples with the sadness of a child in an age when it was common to hear something like "chin up." Ultimately, how do we truly hear, see, feel the pain of children and step into their shoes? I once did a presentation to parents, with shoes of all sizes lined up on the stage, saying we so often want to project that children can walk in adult shoes rather than realizing that we need to walk in children's shoes and truly honor the difference. Also, the whole topic of intentions of or parents as we reexamine our lives.
Literally stepping into children’s shoes. What a great image to present to parents, Dawn. Thank you for sharing these heartfelt thoughts.
You go right to the heart of a small girl about to be abandoned at a boarding school, with all the sweetness of innocence mixed with dread, anxiety and suppressed sobs. Trying to be brave and put on a false smile. That phone call so vividly described - an oasis of happiness and excitement - but after hearing beloved parents' voices, such a downfall into a deep pit of loneliness and longing.
What ghastly institutions some boarding schools were (and still are?).
Thank you so much , Rosalyn. Yes, ‘innocence, dread, anxiety’ all rolled into one.
Still beautiful.
From the escape beyond the school gates to the ox blood, red rubber sheet drying in full view on the washing line; from the humiliations in the gymnasium to the fraught, rare and desperate phone calls; the mounting suspense and menacing fear of the cruel matron- these and other fragments of memory capture so well the desolation, loneliness and yearning for love and safety… for home. Having been to boarding school myself, much of this hits deeply. Feelings are buried as a child, unfathomed and unarticulated. The split between the narrator and child, the I and you, powerfully compound the feeling of this fractured self.
It’s not an easy read - the pain penetrates through - but so exquisitely written. In some ways, it is consoling to read such intense emotions, some shared by many boarding school survivors, laid bare.
You squeeze the tangled, raw memories into a gut knotting ball.
Great stuff!
Ps… I love the photos too…
Thank you so much for this wonderful comment. It’s so moving for me to know that it resonates with the experience of someone else who has been to boarding school. Love ‘gut knotting ball’. You may see this appear in a future chapter!
It’s heartbreaking Emma. I read it immediately but couldn’t comment until now because it’s really painful to engage with and I am a wimp who never experienced boarding school but perhaps felt the ripples from others who did. I echo Laila’s comments about your brilliant descriptions of the material. I think the split voice is really interesting and at the moment makes total sense and absolutely nails the unreliability of memory. I wonder if you will keep that up all the way though or if sometimes it fades in and out as the memories become clearer and then more hazy… just a question not a suggestion! Bravo.
Thank you so much for this really thoughtful and interesting comment, Ruby. Your insight makes me think. In a good, useful way! And btw there’s nothing wimpish about not having been to boarding school.
Dear Emma, I can’t call this brilliant because it’s heartbreaking being taken back to what this poor little girl is going through … but it is brilliant that you’ve managed to create such a moving account so vividly . The you and I split voice manages to retrieve what is so hard about conveying memories, not just the facts but the feelings of being there. I thought your comment to one of your reader’s comments was spot on in making the point that is so true of childhood experience even among children of privileged backgrounds: ‘being accompanied by that jeopardy was so normalised’. I’m not sure I can wait to read this week by week - I might save it up to binge!
Thank you so much for this, Helen. I’m glad the split voice works for you. That’s so good to know.
Thank you- a mistake from me!
Good to read an account by a girl! Have you read Trivial Pursuits by Frazer Harrison? It is a great account of a boy’s experience. It’s many years since I read it but I remember him struggling with the question that he knew his parents loved him so they must think that this was the best thing for him but his experience didn’t bear that out. I look forward to more from you
Found it. Trivial Disputes, I think. Yes?
Thank you, Claire. Yes, very little out there about girls. Thank you for recommending Trivial Pursuits. I’ll read it. I recommend Alex Renton’s Stiff Upper Lip too - an investigation of abuse in boarding schools. Boys again.
Brilliant, so evocative of the intense (& often painful) feelings of childhood that lodge themselves in our otherwise hazy memories.
This is such strong writing, Emma, dark and frightening. I feel I’m there with the little girl, hoping, wishing and, ultimately, coping. It’s brave to share this story. Thank you for all the “truths.”
Thank you so much for this, Cynthia. It fortifies me - and the little girl!