A Child Out Of Alcatrez
I forgot to update about a new book I've finished, and I need to before I forget everything about it. As you can tell by the title of this entry, it's called A Child Out of Alcatrez. I got it two summers ago while in Chautauqua. It was one of those library sales they always had where they sold books for like $.25. It caught my eye with its harsh, black and white photo of the island accented with bright chalky colors penciled in by what looked like a young girl. I intended to read it that summer, and I started it but never really got into it. After reading Tuesdays with Morrie, I was suddenly devoured by the desire to read book after book again. Most of this semester I'd felt too busy to read, but now I couldn't avoid the need that took over. It was late when the feeling struck, so I couldn't go to the library to find a new one. Instead I sorted through the few I brought back to school with me and saw the novel by Tara Ison. I fingered through the pages and saw that the print was relatively big, and the language seemed relatively simple. I reread the inside fold and decided to give it another shot.
The book was so far different from what I expected. I thought it would be about life among the cons and having the constant fear of escapes hovering. I thought it would be about Alcatrez, the prison, and I guess in a way it was, but mostly it was about being trapped. And the metaphorical island didn't need to be Alcatrez, it could have been anywhere: a small town, a big city, your own head. The author depression and mental instability so well I could assume she's dealt with it very directly. It's about a daughter watching her mother in a free fall, a downward spiral into a shell of the person she once was. It's devastating, and the end doesn't readjust to happy. In fact, the further you read, the sadder the story gets. Here are a few pink post its, a few moments that grabbed my attention:
"Whether an Alcatrez prisoner found his time served in a 'soft spot' or a 'hell hole' was going to 'depend entirely on the Government and the man it selects as warden' - implying, inadvertently or not, that a prisoner's conduct might well be irrelevant to how he is treated, when weighed against the inclinations of his keeper."
"These stories lull me to sleep at night, lull me off somewhere it's easy to be a good girl. It's getting harder, in real life ... I thought getting older would make it easier."
"I'm not even sure they believe in God; I think they just believe in themselves and each other, which to me shows much greater devotion and faith. It's harder' people who believe in God say He's always there and always listening, but you can't say that about the people in your life, not at all."
"He holds onto me at night like a buoy; I usually try to turn it into sex, but sometimes he wants to just hold on and talk. What he wants with me and what I want with him are two different things - Let me be a body, just a body, I think - but he is waiting for me to forget this and really hold onto him, too."
The book was so far different from what I expected. I thought it would be about life among the cons and having the constant fear of escapes hovering. I thought it would be about Alcatrez, the prison, and I guess in a way it was, but mostly it was about being trapped. And the metaphorical island didn't need to be Alcatrez, it could have been anywhere: a small town, a big city, your own head. The author depression and mental instability so well I could assume she's dealt with it very directly. It's about a daughter watching her mother in a free fall, a downward spiral into a shell of the person she once was. It's devastating, and the end doesn't readjust to happy. In fact, the further you read, the sadder the story gets. Here are a few pink post its, a few moments that grabbed my attention:
"Whether an Alcatrez prisoner found his time served in a 'soft spot' or a 'hell hole' was going to 'depend entirely on the Government and the man it selects as warden' - implying, inadvertently or not, that a prisoner's conduct might well be irrelevant to how he is treated, when weighed against the inclinations of his keeper."
"These stories lull me to sleep at night, lull me off somewhere it's easy to be a good girl. It's getting harder, in real life ... I thought getting older would make it easier."
"I'm not even sure they believe in God; I think they just believe in themselves and each other, which to me shows much greater devotion and faith. It's harder' people who believe in God say He's always there and always listening, but you can't say that about the people in your life, not at all."
"He holds onto me at night like a buoy; I usually try to turn it into sex, but sometimes he wants to just hold on and talk. What he wants with me and what I want with him are two different things - Let me be a body, just a body, I think - but he is waiting for me to forget this and really hold onto him, too."