The Fifth Child

I saw Lessing in an interview with Bill Moyer where she talked briefly about this book. When she was asked if she meant this or that by writing it, she simply said "No, you see, people always read messages and things, which I don't intend." "It's a story. I'm a storyteller." So I picked up the book... I loved it. I still do. I've read it for the third time this past weekend while traveling and enjoyed it. It is easy reading, yet it touches on so many subjects if you want to read too much into it. You can consider it from the "mother love" aspect or the way we dispose of things because they don't fit within our acceptable "norms" or the "troubled youth" or many other social issues... To me, the act of sending Ben to die is not any worse than the horrible acts Ben commits for being what he is. I do not sympathize with David or Harriet. Not because they wanted too many children, but because they wanted to achieve their dreams on the expense of others. Harriet always needed her mother and David his dad. This was well known before they set out on their endeavor. So they consciously and selfishly continued their plan, until they were dealt a bad hand. They simply couldn't deal with it, they weren't prepared and it wasn't something that their parents can solve for them so their empire crumbled. This book is different, unique and if you insist on having quality in what you read, this book delivers this as well. Hey you can even consider the genetic possibility of conceiving a Ben if you are into science fiction as well :)

I keep expecting Lessing to deliver a high quality of fiction. The quality is there, for sure, but I have to wonder about how much is fiction. The elements are all too familiar in real life. An eager young couple sets about raising a family, and succeeds far too well. They can not support their own ambitions, whether measured in dollar amounts or in units of work caring for the children. The fifth child embodies a tragic accident of birth, and the fragile sitation implodes.I don't mean to trivialize Lessing's story - even when I saw what was coming, I was hypnotically compelled to see it through, like the proverbial bird in front of a snake. (I've also avoided spoilers as much as I can, so vagueness is intended.) Taken in literal terms, the story carries a gut-wrenching sensation that's much too close to life.One step above literality, I parented a "fifth child", or tried to. It wasn't my own spawn; it had been cast out by it's natural parent, the one that hadn't bailed out long since. My concerns for the child were twice the usual: I had a duty to prepare the child for the world, but had a second duty of protecting the world from that child. (That unpleasant period didn't last, and I was truly relieved at its end.) I did not need to grant Lessing very much poetic license to see the fact in her fiction.If I let the immediacy of memory die down, I can read the story at more metaphorical levels, too. I suppose that many parents have high hopes, before the reality of a pimply teenager sprawls on their couch. Outside of parenting, I know that I have undertaken tasks way beyond my capacity, with some silly faith that things would work out somehow. The more I rely on faith, the worse the outcome.I understand that Lessing has written a sequel. To tell the truth, I don't think I have the stomach for it - and I mean that as a compliment. She is far too successful in invoking the dark spirits that resemble my personal demons, and no other author has ever come close.

Doris Lessing is one of the most important writers of the second half of the twentieth century. Lessing has written about the clash of cultures, the gross injustices of racial inequality, the struggle among opposing elements within an individuals own personality, and the conflict between the individual conscience and the collective good. However, her novel The Fifth Child seems to bring to light the twisted social an moral values of today's society. Or does it?Lessing tells us the chilling story of the Lovatts. In the unconstrained atmosphere of England in the late 1960's, Harriet and David Lovatt seem to defy the greedy and selfish spirit of the times with their version of tradition and normalcy. They want a large family, all the expected pleasures of a rich and responsible home life, children growing, Harriet tending, David providing. Even as the time's events take a dark turn, with a sudden surge in crime and unemployment, the Lovatt's cling to their belief that an obstinately guarded contentedness will preserve them from the world outside. Until the birth of their fifth child.Harriet and David are stricken with astonishment at their new infant. Almost "gruesome in appearance, insatiably hungry, abnormally strong, demanding and violent," Ben has nothing infant-like about him, nothing innocent or wholesome, nothing normal by society's standards. Harriet and David understand immediately that he will never be accepted in their world. David cannot bring himself to touch him. Harriet finds she cannot love him as she should love her own child. The four other children are afraid of him. Family and friends who once enjoyed visiting with the Lovatt's begin to stay away.Now, in this house, where there had been nothing but kindness, warmth, and comfort, there is restraint, wariness, and anxiety. Harriet and David are torn, as they would never have believed possible, between their instincts as parents and their shocked reaction to this fierce and unlovable baby. Their vision of the world as a carefree and ultimately happy place is desperately threatened by the mere existence of one of their own children. As the novel continues, we are drawn deep into the life of the Lovatt family, and are witness to the terrifying confusion of emotions that becomes their daily life as they cope with Ben and with their own responses to him throughout his childhood and adolescence. Lessing's plot is absolutely brilliant. It was thought out, detailed, and the setting she chose enhances the story. A major problem, however, is that the novel seems to have left something out from Ben and his inner feelings. We never really get to hear his point of view, we cannot understand his reasoning on matters, nor can we relate to him in any way. Lessing should have developed Ben's character more, and brought him closer to the reader. We're left with an empty feeling, a craving for more. The reader wonders if Ben can understand what he is, or what he is doing. Overa

This book is a disturbing and sad look at what happens to "the perfect family" when their fifth child is born. His name is Ben and he has serious emotional and developmental problems. He was hyperactive and full of rage while he was in the womb (causing his mother a great deal of physical pain during her pregnancy) and once he was born he continued to vent his rage at the world. The book really made me think about how I would handle a similar situation with my own family. Do you institutionalize or not? Do you go from doctor to doctor and find the right medication, or, do you sit back and do the best you can with what you emotionally have to offer?? I haven't read the sequel yet but I plan to. This book is wonderfully written and very moving. It continued to haunt me for days after I put it down. While there were some flaws with the character development (or LACK of development,) it was overall an excellent read.

I was surprised to find the "experts" listing "The Fifth Child" in a horror category. This is Lessing as we have come to know her style of bringing you into the characters' lives quickly. You find yourself passing judgements alongside the fictional characters. Though the book starts as a dream of being different by upholding the traditional values of family, it quickly turns into an understanding of the dynamics of family and friends who, facing an unknown, turn their backs and pass judgement on a loving couple who soon turn their backs on each other to preserve each one's value system. A family torn apart by what is considered the "curse" of the fifth child to this family who wanted children to the rafters, is a family you can identify with. A discovery into the heart of human, and perhaps "un-human" experiences of dear Mother Nature. I read it in an afternoon and wanted more.