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The View from the Window
This is a story about the loneliness of being crippled. Irene, now eighteen, has suffered from rheumatoid arthritis since she was twelve; her illness has set her apart from her contemporaries and she finds it difficult to communicate with the girls who were once her friends at school - they fail to grasp how different her life is from theirs, how bleak her future.
Irene is in hospital for a course of treatment. From the window beside her bed she watches the unattainable world where ordinary people lead their ordinary lives, until a series of coincidences leads her out into that very world to meet the people she has only seen as distant figures. She does not always find it easy to connect with them, nor does this new outlet make life inside the hospital any more bearable - but she has many things to learn about herself and other people and by the end of the book her isolation no longer seems so complete and future is full of new possibilities.
Irene is in hospital for a course of treatment. From the window beside her bed she watches the unattainable world where ordinary people lead their ordinary lives, until a series of coincidences leads her out into that very world to meet the people she has only seen as distant figures. She does not always find it easy to connect with them, nor does this new outlet make life inside the hospital any more bearable - but she has many things to learn about herself and other people and by the end of the book her isolation no longer seems so complete and future is full of new possibilities.
143 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1978
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January 24, 2021
I really wanted to like this book. Picked it up in a charity shop, a lone hardback amongst the multiple copies of Dan Brown and Jo Nesbo - it stood out to me. And the subject matter - the life of a young person stricken with a life changing illness - appealed as a topic not often tackled.
It starts well, with references to Tennyson, and an intriguing conversation about the nature of poetry. Irene (apparently it should be pronounced I-re-nie - who knew), virtually bed-bound through rheumatoid arthritis at the age of 18, is a self-assured and intelligent narrator, which seems fitting given how much time she has to think and reflect. She is very down on herself, despises TV, despises pointless craft activities, thinks her life is hopeless. This is, of course, a very realistic position which someone like her might find herself in. And to the reader 50 years later, the hospital she is living in for a while seems remarkably prison-like with its regimented occupational therapy and water therapy sessions, and bans on leaving the grounds. This is all quite entertaining to start with.
However, the book gets mired in the middle. Of course the author wanted to paint a positive picture of Irene's life, and decides to formulate a quasi-romance with a middle-aged man and frequent 'escapes' from the hospital which are of course forbidden for insurance purposes. This all seems not only absurd to today's reader, but also disappointing. The subject matter is so promising, but the story is not strong enough to carry the idea through.
Also, it's hopelessly dated. Not only the prison-hospital, but also the frequent references to 'cripples', and gender stereotyping date it. All of the male characters are strong problem solvers, all of the women squabble, cry and obsess over pointless details, waiting for their white knights to ride in and save them.
I unfortunately got bored and irritated with Irene in equal measure. Started well, did not end well.
It starts well, with references to Tennyson, and an intriguing conversation about the nature of poetry. Irene (apparently it should be pronounced I-re-nie - who knew), virtually bed-bound through rheumatoid arthritis at the age of 18, is a self-assured and intelligent narrator, which seems fitting given how much time she has to think and reflect. She is very down on herself, despises TV, despises pointless craft activities, thinks her life is hopeless. This is, of course, a very realistic position which someone like her might find herself in. And to the reader 50 years later, the hospital she is living in for a while seems remarkably prison-like with its regimented occupational therapy and water therapy sessions, and bans on leaving the grounds. This is all quite entertaining to start with.
However, the book gets mired in the middle. Of course the author wanted to paint a positive picture of Irene's life, and decides to formulate a quasi-romance with a middle-aged man and frequent 'escapes' from the hospital which are of course forbidden for insurance purposes. This all seems not only absurd to today's reader, but also disappointing. The subject matter is so promising, but the story is not strong enough to carry the idea through.
Also, it's hopelessly dated. Not only the prison-hospital, but also the frequent references to 'cripples', and gender stereotyping date it. All of the male characters are strong problem solvers, all of the women squabble, cry and obsess over pointless details, waiting for their white knights to ride in and save them.
I unfortunately got bored and irritated with Irene in equal measure. Started well, did not end well.
Displaying 1 of 1 review