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A review by shelleyrae
Daddy Love: A Novel by Joyce Carol Oates
3.0
I have had an awkward track record with work by Joyce Carol Oates, despite the acclaim she has received, and primarily I requested this novel in yet another effort to connect with her writing. Oates has published more than 50 books, many of which probe sensitive, dark subjects. In Daddy Love, Oates explores the shocking abduction and abuse of five year old Robbie Whitcomb by a sadistic pederast who keeps him captive for six years.
The story of Daddy Love was no more than what I expected, confronting, disturbing and thought provoking. It is difficult to read of Diane's despair at the loss of her son, her misplaced feelings of guilt and shame. It is horrendous to read of Daddy Love's justifications for his deviant behaviour, his remorseless manipulation and abuse of young children and to know that such monsters walk amongst us undetected. It is utterly heartbreaking to imagine the fear, pain and sense of utter helplessness experienced by Robbie whose innocence is destroyed and will never be the same.
And yet somehow Oates fails to move me, my reactions are dictated by the subject matter rather than the way in which she tells the story. I find her style spare and distant, even dry at times. Perhaps that is necessary in writing about such an emotive issue to reduce the risk that the reader will be overwhelmed by the sheer, shuddering horror of the situation but for me the result was a disconnect I am hard pressed to articulate.
Even though Daddy Love left me with a painful ache in my chest, and desperate to keep my children a little closer to my side for a little longer, I think I will have to admit I am defeated by Joyce Carol Oates.
The story of Daddy Love was no more than what I expected, confronting, disturbing and thought provoking. It is difficult to read of Diane's despair at the loss of her son, her misplaced feelings of guilt and shame. It is horrendous to read of Daddy Love's justifications for his deviant behaviour, his remorseless manipulation and abuse of young children and to know that such monsters walk amongst us undetected. It is utterly heartbreaking to imagine the fear, pain and sense of utter helplessness experienced by Robbie whose innocence is destroyed and will never be the same.
And yet somehow Oates fails to move me, my reactions are dictated by the subject matter rather than the way in which she tells the story. I find her style spare and distant, even dry at times. Perhaps that is necessary in writing about such an emotive issue to reduce the risk that the reader will be overwhelmed by the sheer, shuddering horror of the situation but for me the result was a disconnect I am hard pressed to articulate.
Even though Daddy Love left me with a painful ache in my chest, and desperate to keep my children a little closer to my side for a little longer, I think I will have to admit I am defeated by Joyce Carol Oates.