Can Some Things Ever Really Be Put Into Words?
This week's reading of Beloved was probably the hardest part of the book for me so far. There were a few times where I caught myself just staring at the page thinking... "How is anyone supposed to survive something like this?" Some of the things Sethe experienced are almost impossible for me to imagine. I think that is part of why this section hit me so hard.
The part that stood out the most was Beloved's monologue. At first, I was honestly confused. I kept asking myself... "Am I missing something here?" The thoughts jump around and do not follow a normal story. But then I started thinking maybe Morrison did that on purpose. If someone goes through something terrible, would they remember it in a neat, organized way? Probably not. Memories can be messy, especially painful ones.
I also found myself thinking a lot about Denver. She never experienced slavery herself, but it still affects her whole life. That made me stop and think, "How much of our family's past becomes part of our own story?" Even if we did not live through something ourselves, can it still shape who we are? I think it can.
Working in healthcare, I see this in a different way sometimes. I have met people who are still dealing with things that happened years or even decades ago. Sometimes it is trauma, loss, addiction, or difficult family situations. The event happened a long time ago, but the effects are still there. Reading Beloved made me think about that a lot.
As a parent, I kept coming back to Sethe. I found myself asking... "What would I do to protect my kids?" Then I would immediately think... "I honestly do not know." It is easy to judge someone's choices when you are sitting comfortably reading a book. It is a lot harder when you try to put yourself in their position and realize how impossible the situation really was.
One thing I keep talking myself through while reading this book is the idea that the past never really disappears. We all have things that stay with us. Maybe it is losing someone we love, making a mistake we regret, or going through a difficult time. We move forward, but those memories are still there. Isn't that kind of what Morrison is showing us throughout the whole book?
This week's reading left me with more questions than answers. Can people ever fully heal from trauma? How do we remember painful history without letting it completely take over our lives? And if stories like this are uncomfortable to read, does that mean they are actually the stories we most need to hear?
I do not know the answers, but I know this section of Beloved is one I will be thinking about long after I finish the book.
