Diana Page Jordan | Book Reviews and Inspiration

Secrets of Eden

By Chris Bohjalian

Published February 2, 2010 (Hardcover) Shaye Areheart Books

Eight hours later, I am just now catching my breath.

I read Secrets of Eden, falling into the disturbing brilliant story about domestic abuse.  And then, this afternoon, Chris Bohjalian and I met at the Heathman Hotel in Portland, OR, for one of our many interviews.  I once interviewed Chris in San Diego – in a car – at the airport – having passed through security – twice – in this 9/11 time – forever impressing the hell out of him.  He reminded me of that today, when we settled against the relatively plush couch pillows in his suite. This time – he would not know until after I had put away the mic – that it was just after I had rummaged through similar material from my own life.Chris’ most pivotal character in Secrets of Eden will be dead before we reach page six.  Dead, apparently, at her handsome husband’s hands. Hands that strangled her to death.  And then, reportedly put a gun to his own head.  Leaving a fifteen year old daughter orphaned.  The story reveals in four distinct voices.  I think, when I begin, that I will be hearing from the minister of the small New Eastern town, who had baptized Alice on the last afternoon of her life.  And, then, my jaw drops when the second part begins with the voice of the state attorney with the flip side of this story.  Then, the voice of a best-selling novelist whose parents died in a similar murder-suicide – Heather sees angels.  And, finally, the voice of fifteen-year old daughter, Katie.

The problem – if you can call it that – with Chris’ writing, is that every character, every nuance is so fully developed, that the story is real.  Too real if you’ve tasted that kind of violence.  I don’t mean murder-suicide.  Although I have covered such stories as a news reporter/anchor.  A terribly sad camp-out in the wealthy Dunthorpe area comes to mind — as we reported on the murder-suicide of an entire family.

As I read, I identified with Alice, later realizing that I had lived a story much like Katie, and Heather, when she was a child.  Chris talked to victims of domestic violence to fuse their stories with his characters.  He did all too well.  I can tell the stories of the terror with a glib reporter’s eye, but there is a grave difference in reliving those experiences, as I did through Chris’ storytelling.  Between the ages of four and seventeen, there were countless moments of terror every day.

Most, I had walled up behind a quickly-coded story: my stepfather raped me (how many hundreds of times?), my mother tried to kill herself (pills, knives, drinking, falling), my dad was gone by the time I was six (beaten bloody by my stepfather, and told not to return).  There was no one to rescue me — except books; my grandmother bought me tickets to see Broadway shows and symphonies and opera; and of course there were Disney movies about wicked stepmothers, fairy godmothers, and happy endings.  And, I could see angels, and this bright light in my heart that sometimes shrunk to a dot. I am fortunate.

After reading Secrets of Eden, and before interviewing Chris today, I had a 90-minute therapy session.  It was brutal.  Lately, I have been at war inside myself.  My soul – my professional self knowing – really knowing, the positive of what I experienced.  And, knowing that it is best to live in the moment.  I walked into therapy, saying that these days, dancing is the only time I can truly live in the moment.   Otherwise, I felt the pent-up anger, the struggle of the trapped little girl I had been.  A flash of insight split me, and sobs came.  As a child and a teenager, “living in the moment” was treacherous.  Anything evil could happen.  And did.  There was the torture!  My soul says “live in the moment.” My experience tells me living that way could kill me.

Mike Dooley’s book yesterday led me into examining this living in the moment. And, today, Chris Bohjalian’s book takes me back into the bowels of despair.  They catalyze my answer.  I’ll feel light for awhile, then another book will kick off another revelation.  Book by book, I am healing, and, honestly, I am mostly quite solid.  That’s why I can tell you.  That’s why it is my turn to write about that dark side, and that I made it through – and, if you have had traumatic times that taught you the brutal truth – or lies – you can, too.

At the risk of sounding too simplistic, books, I can thank books for saving my life.