Book Review: When Madeline Was Young by Jane Hamilton

Not long after her wedding, Madeline Maciver (nee Schiller) crashes her bicycle and suffers a brain injury that leaves her with the cognitive abilities of a six-year-old. Her husband, Aaron, assumes her care, but also divorces her when it is clear she will not recover. He marries Julia and starts a family, one where his ex-wife becomes the de facto eldest, then youngest, child, her mental age immutable as everyone grows up around her. When Madeline Was Young, published by Doubleday Canada, is a coming of age story rooted in this unconventional household.

What When Madeline Was Young is not is a novel about the perpetually young Madeline. It is eldest child Mac's story of when he was young, and he is using the hook of his parents' and Madeline's relationship to tell us what he learned about love. The story that unfurls is a reminder that coming of age can take a lifetime. For Mac, this story can be told in his relationship with his mother, with Madeline, and with his cousin Buddy.

Hamilton's descriptions of Buddy call back the memories of the Buddy's we all knew in our youth: brash, pig-headed, in charge. Not quite a bully, Buddy is nonetheless the instigator of shady plans, the introducer of illicit pleasures, the purveyor of family secrets. Buddy is the fierce and physical counterpoint to Mac's deliberate, internal approach. Though their relationship is rocky, it is most of all this relationship that Mac is trying to understand as he tells his story, from his comfortable late middle age.

Mac is, for the most part, a sympathetic character. His inaction, his calculated blindnesses are his flaws, but Hamilton is deft enough that these serve to make him real, rather than dull. Still, a seemingly throwaway reference near the end of the book tainted the affection I had for Mac. While rhapsodizing about watching his wife engaged in her domestic duties, he notes: "Surely it has never been more dangerous to love than in our time; the feminazis would undoubtedly lynch me for warming so to Diana in her farm-wife costume." As a woman, it is hard to like a man, even an imaginary one, who would refer to those big, bad, oppressive feminazis. It is one of the late 20th century's more odious terms, and its use taints the character with an unpleasant colour.

Article Author: Bonnie

Bonnie writes about books every Thursday at Fourth-Rate Reader, about everything else at Signifying Nothing, and sometimes she resorts to pictures. She lives in Toronto.

Visit Bonnie's author page — Bonnie's Blog