"That's the way our family was, two and two. Dad and me; our mother and Noah. And now, she and I stand side by side in this little room, terrible in its very lack of terribleness, a place where endings are finally faced".
The Leftovers by Cassandra Parkin is a domestic noir, ambiguous, disturbing and harrowing.
Callie Taggart is a former nurse who works as a residential carer. While not taking care of Frey, a young man with additional needs (severe autism? his diagnosis is never specified), she helps her Dad to look after her older brother Noah who has serious mental health problems.
She is staying at Frey's house as one of his carers, when she receives terrible news over the phone. Both her father and brother Noah died in an accident.
She is left to look after her mother Vanessa.
"We could both pretend not to see the ugly truth: of all the conjunctions of loss that could have been inflicted on our family, leaving the two of us alone together is the worst possible outcome. We're both of us nobody's favourites".
Noah was Vanessa's favourite child. "She loved Noah more than anything, all of her eggs in one beloved basket, nothing left for Dad or me. There's an assymetry in her grieving".
Callie's favourite parent was her Dad, and now two of them, mother and daughter, are stuck with each other - the leftovers of their family.
Callie is trying to re-evaulate her life. Talking to the police, attempting to figure out if the car accident was a possible suicide, she explains that neither her Dad, nor Noah thought of suicide as a solution to their problems. "Noah's darkness was directed outwards, in wild fantasies that Dad washis gaoler, was trying to hurt me, was somehow a danger he had to save me from".
Callie's story unfolds, as she thinks of her childhood, a difficult relationship between her parents, her mother's aloofness towards her and her obvious preference for her older son Noah. "She was a bad mother in a lot of ways... I remember dozens of small wounds where she hurt me with her indifference (bedtime stories unread, kisses ungiven, embraces rejected, achievements undervalued, small mistakes and misdemeanours punished with a primal anger that was never turned on Noah)."
Noah is the opposite of Frey, he's flamboyant and imaginative, and very volatile. He's obsessed with the idea that Dad represents danger to his sister, and his behaviour becomes unpredictable, managed only by very strong medication that leaves him in a zombie-like state. Both Noah and Frey have serious mental issues, and neither can live on their own or even be left alone.
Callie's the main voice of the story, and her narrative appears genuine and authentic. She loves her brother and Dad, and resents her mother. As her story progresses, you begin questioning her interpretation of events. She's vulnerable, and clearly damaged by the toxic family dynamics (she blames her mother for everything). Just how reliable is her side of the story?!
There is a darkness inside Callie, which she recognises, but doesn't know how to contain. You will feel sad for her, but also alienated.
I'm very torn about this book.
I knew that Cassandra's story would be inevitably dark. I read two of her novels before, and am familiar with her writing style, which is thought-provoking and disturbingly bleak. Cassandra Parkin is very talented, but I can only take her books in small doses. I read The leftovers slowly, a little bit at a time, as I found it quite distressing. Some scenes in the book make a very uncomfortable reading.
Emotionally, it left me drained, and for that I resented it, though I accept the power and strength of Parkin's writing that her book can affect me so.
There are just so many dark themes going on: the power games, sexual and emotional abuse, the issue of consent or absence of it, gaslighting, exploitation of vulnerable people.
The sexual predators come in all forms and genders.
I recognised many of Frey's features in my older son, though in a way they are very different people. Frey's character is portrayed masterfully, with great compassion, but it also meant that it was painful to read. For example, when Callie says, "I try never to assume anything with Frey, who could know much or almost nothing, but who hasn't yet stopped surprising me". Like Frey, my big boy is non-verbal. Like Frey, it's an effort for my son "to make sense of a world that isn't built for him. He's in a constant battle with his own body, with the relentless assault on his senses. He longs for connection, but also finds it overwhelming".
Frey's experience at the residential home during the lockdown made me cry. I imagined my own son in his place, where strangers don't understand you, and where everything is overwhelming.
It's so heart-breaking to read his inner thoughts, when he believes his family has abandoned him, as he doesn't understand the concept of the lockdown. His sensory overload is dismissed by the care home staff. "You can feel yourself withdrawing, shutting down, giving up. You've spent so long trying to fit into the world, and what has that got you? A small room you didn't choose, food you can't eat, a building full of strangers, and a mortal enemy who everyone thinks is your friend. Your family told you this wouldn't be forever, they told you they'd see you really soon, and you believed them but it's not true. "Soon" will never come. They've sent you away because you're too hard to live with".
There are many potential triggers in the book.
The Leftovers is a dark narrative, which will haunt you long after the last pages.
If you found this review interesting, you might like reading two others reviews of Cassandra Parkin's books on my blog - see The Winter's Child and The Slaughter Man (both published by Legend Press).
This post is part of the blog tour for The Leftovers.
Many thanks to Cassandra Parkin and Legend Press for my copy of the book!
