A bothersome notion permeates Kate Brennan’s unsettling story, Stalked, A True Story of Obsession (2008, Penguin Books, London, 279 pages), that the author benefited vastly more from the writing than anyone does by the reading. Seldom does a book give such an impression so strongly.
Brennan is a pen-name used by the author to tell of her experiences as the victim of prolonged stalking by a menacing former lover. For her, writing the book amounted to therapy, a means of empowerment after years of torment.
“You won’t know my real name. But you will know my psyche, for I intend to offer it bare as a licked bone,” the author writes at the beginning.
Later, she adds: “In the end, whatever else happens, I have told my story: the story of an ordinary woman who was victimized, but was not a victim – a woman who suffered, but was not defeated.”
The scholarly Kate, a writer and university teacher, lives in the American Midwest “near the Mississippi River”. Unlucky in love, she spends three years with Paul, a wealthy man of leisure, the nephew of a neighbor. Eventually, she deems his emotional flaws too much to handle. But once she leaves him, bigger problems begin – and they last much longer than the love affair ever did.
“You will never forget me. I will always be with you,” Paul warns the departing Kate. What an understatement!
Stalked lives up to its billing as “a gripping tale of one woman’s descent into the dark side of love and how she has fought – and still fights – to free herself”. She can never relax or lower her guard, at least not for long.
“I startle awake. A gunshot? I hold my breath and strain to identify the noise in the ensuing silence. Nothing. Was it a car backfiring on the highway? A hunter downing a deer on the island? Maybe one or the other. Maybe something more ominous. I’m never sure which way to turn, toward the ordinary or the terrifying.”
The book excels less at “laying bare the twisted mind of a stalker”. Despite Brennan’s theories, Paul’s motivations to behave so obsessively and cruelly remain murky. “Long story short, he’d like to turn me into another version of myself – a form unable to work, to trust, to live freely, to feel safe ever again.”
Stalked holds obvious appeal for anyone else who has endured similar fears. “The math is depressing. More than a million women are stalked each year… and about 87 per cent of the time we’re stalked by men. Usually it’s someone we know – 77 per cent of the time to be exact – and 59 per cent of us are stalked by an intimate partner. Only 55 per cent of stalking victims ever report the crime to the police, and only 13 per cent of stalkers who are charged are actually prosecuted. Of those, just over half are convicted.”
The author’s account may encourage and strengthen others with such problems. “Each morning when I wake, before I even get out of bed, I focus on the most important work of my life these days: how to get away from Paul for good.”
People in need may adopt some of the author’s strategies. “That’s all anyone can ask really, life in increments of a day at a time. The only way to survive is to remember that at least for the moment, I’m safe.”
But Brennan offers no firm fixes – maybe none exist. Even the police can’t purge the problem. Her stalker “remains at large”. And “it wears me out…. The possibility of despair is never more than an arm’s length away. That’s on good days. On bad days, despair sits on my shoulder waiting for the slightest sign of weakness so it can wrap me in its embrace.”
Presumably, the author gives a faithful and accurate account. But every love story gone wrong, no matter how warped, has two sides, and some readers may feel a distinct discomfort at having access only to the author’s version.
Reading Stalked resembles listening patiently as a friend tells of bad experiences. It calls for sympathy and understanding. Not every reader will enjoy the experience, but most may linger in support of the author’s “therapy”.
Approval rating: 54 per cent
(February 1, 2010)
ARCHIVES
|
|
