4.5 stars
The word ‘devastating’ is very frequently used to describe books. A Very Private School really, really is that.
While I already knew before heading into this book that it would be dealing with a very sensitive subject that Charles Spencer should be commended for being so vulnerable over, I do have to admit that I didn’t necessarily think it would be particularly well-written. This is, of course, because of my own prejudices: typically, memoirs written by public figures (including Prince Harry’s Spare, despite it being ghostwritten) are a little clumsily conveyed.
On the contrary, not only is A Very Private School close to being the most beautifully, heartrendlingly, and expertly written memoir I have ever read (second only to The Choice by Edith Eger), but it really, really is devastating. Maidwell will now occupy a very dark corner of my mind. Even as I was reading, I found myself marching forth partially numbed, unable to wrap my head around the amount of torment and horror and abuse endured by these children. It’s truly unfathomable. I cannot conceive of a childhood with such constant, visceral, merited stomach-churning fear—with close to zero chance of escape. Spencer explains near the end of the book how his peers would, at the conclusion of their rare breakaways from school in the safety of their own homes, hide, cry, scream, and beg to not be taken back, only for the parents, similarly wet-eyed, to press on with their decision to throw their children back into the perverted, violent arms of their abusers, all in the name of tradition and social decorum.
This school of Spencer’s childhood is truly a hellhole. There, the adults are cold and hating at worst and paedophilic, exceedingly violent, and chillingly emotionally abusive at worst. Here is a school with abusers, enablers, allies, and mutes only at the helm. Children as young as seven are, in their surrogate ‘home’, stripped naked and beaten (from which they retain physical scars decades later, in old age) and fondled for crimes such as talking after lights out, having learning difficulties, or, simply, witnessing their friends’ ‘crimes’. ‘Sickening’ only scratches the surface. To hear about the victims’ lives afterward—rife with relationship problems, abandonment issues, complete mental shutdown, severe PTSD, and more—is just the icing on the cake.
I hope any of these victims who have passed now feel as though they can rest. I hope those who are still alive will find some form of closure through Spencer’s incredibly brave and beautifully elucidated book.