The thing about being a parent is that weekends are no longing about the doing nothing. Because the feeding, diapering, soothing, playing, they still go on. Of course the husband is around more and he can handle more of that while I do other things, but there are always things to do. Things that are easier to do when there’s someone else to watch wee reader. Like tidying up and making freezer meals.
I know I’m stating the obvious here but I guess that it wasn’t all that obvious to me before wee reader arrived some 5.5 months ago! It’s just amazing how he’s changed our lives, our routines, our own bedtimes and eating schedules.
So it’s taken me a while to write this review – a whole week to be exact. And I have to warn you, it’s a terrible one. Partly because my mind is elsewhere. But also because I’m just not sure about this book.
In secondary school in Singapore, we did John Wyndham’s The Chrysalids (not Day of the Triffids as I originally recalled it as!) as part of our literature class. I remember quite enjoying it and heading to the school library with my classmate to check out Wyndham’s other books. We borrowed what we could and savored them all. I was so sure that Chocky was part of that collection. Now I’m not. Or perhaps it was something that didn’t stick in my teenaged mind?
Anyway here’s the synopsis from Good Reads:
Matthew, they thought, was just going through a phase of talking to himself. And, like many parents, they waited for him to get over it, but it started to get worse. Mathew’s conversations with himself grew more and more intense – it was like listening to one end of a telephone conversation while someone argued, cajoled and reasoned with another person you couldn’t hear. Then Matthew started doing things he couldn’t do before, like counting in binary-code mathematics. So he told them about Chocky – the person who lived in his head.
After reading that I thought, hey, creepy kid, that’s rather RIP-ish, no? And I guess it kinda was, especially when I thought of how I would feel if that were my boy. Well, except I wasn’t creeped out. I read this with a sense of detachment, I didn’t care for Matthew, plus his parents just irritated me. And when I finally finished it, I just wasn’t up to writing a review of it. Obviously that’s not going to encourage anyone to read this book! However because of my fond memories of really enjoying Wyndham’s work those years back, I’m going o give him another try. Perhaps revisit Day of the Triffids and see how that stands up.