Book review: Room

Published on Tuesday 10 August 2010 15:00

ROOM BY EMMA DONOGHUE Picador, 321pp, £12.99

When the terrible story of Elisabeth Fritzl's 25-year incarceration by her father first broke in 2008, many writers must have been tantalised by the possibility, or impossibility, of entering the world of a captive woman who had endured the very worst a father can inflict. Callous though that may sound, it is an artist's job to go to places, both real and imagined, that many of us would prefer to avoid. Not many writers, though, would have had the courage, or the ability, to visit this particular place and produce such a startlingly original and moving piece of work.

Startling because Elisabeth's Fritzl's story has enough poignancy and horror and tragedy of its own. Why try to reproduce any of that in a novel? Emma Donoghue answers that troubling question by having her novel narrated by a child, the son of the captive woman known only as "Ma". Jack is five years old, the offspring of Ma, held captive in a sound-proof shed for seven years, and "Old Nick", her captor. He visits most nights while Jack lies hidden in his makeshift bed in the wardrobe, counting the squeak of bed springs until Old Nick is done, has left them alone and he can sneak back into bed beside his mother. After a row, though, Old Nick cuts the power supply for a few days. Combined with his revelation that he is out of work, his latest behaviour compels Ma to make a daring bid for escape, using Jack.

It's not a spoiler to say that Jack does escape and alert the police: the second half of this novel is a superb treatment of the after-effects of release. The unbearable tension of the first half of the novel requires this shift, and Donoghue judges it perfectly, taking her readers to the brink but never stepping over into sensationalism or horror. Writers are voyeurs almost by necessity, the quality of their work dependent upon their ability to see, record and then take further, the actions, tics and traits of human beings. Making her observer of the claustrophobic world of Room a five-year-old is a stroke of genius on Donoghue's part, as it allows for both an acceptance of that horrible world, thus defusing much of its horror, whilst at the same time cataloguing the intimate nature of that world in a believable way.

Jack's world is fraught with terrors he never fully glimpses. We adults tremble, however, at the abusive nature of the relationship between Ma and Old Nick, as she wheedles for extra rations, and he tells her how lucky she is, how much she costs him. Ma knows Old Nick could leave them to starve, or take her son from her. She works hard to give her son security in the midst of horror, and protects Jack from a great deal.It is, ironic though, that on their release some of those previously hidden adult terrors become real for Jack: for the first time, he is separated from his mother when she takes an overdose and he has to stay with his grandparents. On another occasion, Jack gets lost in a mall and is quickly surrounded by strangers wanting his autograph. The world beyond Room in many ways is more terrifying, and more dangerous, for a five-year-old boy.

Jack's narrative voice can take a while to get used to: the mix of baby words like "meltedy spoon", the loss of the definite article so nouns become Wardrobe and Bed, combined with adult terminology that he uses so accurately ("invisibly") can seem artificial at first, and his capacity for self-reflection, remarkable in a five-year-old (he's not above making similes, too), can stretch credibility a little. In the real world, too, his observations sound more like the author's than her character's (especially when he notes that, in the mall, most parents don't give their children enough attention. That sounds like an adult observation, not a child's one). But it is a testament to Donoghue's skill how quickly that voice becomes acceptable, then endearing, and finally utterly compelling, as compelling as the murdered young girl who narrated Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones.

In the best novels, every word matters. And in the very best, every word not only matters, it helps transform how we see the world around us. Elisabeth Fritzl's case altered for many of us our view of the world. Donoguhe's book has done exactly the same thing. It is a tremendous achievement.