A Formula for Success: dumb parents + evil child = Nobel

The Fifth Child
Doris Lessing

I’ve tried to expose myself to some of Doris Lessing’s work, although the woman is so damned prolific that, despite thinking myself quite brilliant for choosing three of her works, I actually haven’t really read too much of her at all. I’ve chosen The Grass is Singing (1950), and The Fifth Child (1988), The Grandmothers (2003), so it’s a pretty good survey of her stuff.

I was nervous to read Lessing, since upon hearing of my intention to read some of her work, a poster had warned me against her “turgid prose,” and I feared my endeavor would be an exercise in pain. Keeping this warning in mind, I began my foray into the newest Nobel with the shortest – and therefore least intimidating – of my purchases, The Fifth Child.

Immediately, I was relieved: her prose was not turgid, in my opinion; instead, I found her writing both simple and elegant. Lessing begins the tale without delay or unnecessary frills, and we are quickly plunged into the world of the Lovatt.

The novel begins with the meeting of David and Harriet, who meet at an office party and instantaneously recognize in the other the very qualities they had been seeking. It isn’t long before the two are married, eager to embark upon the ONLY GOAL THEY HAVE: children.

No, seriously.

I’m not saying that having children isn’t an admirable goal, but these people take it to a whole ‘nother level. The second they are married, they buy a huge house they can't afford because they know that they will one day fill it with lots and lots of children. Harriet gets pregnant immediately and quits working, because working mothers = bad, or some such. And, despite financial problems that do not go away, they keep. having. children. What could go wrong?

sometimes a smackdown's necessary;
thankfully, Ben will do just that

Needless to say, I was really glad when Ben, the evil fifth child, was born. I sat back and snickered as these two freaks received a little karmic kickback. Their fifth child is, to put it bluntly, an evil little troll.

I’m not sure if The Fifth Child is meant to be a scathing indictment of those whose only goal is procreation, or if Lessing’s literary sword seeks a broader target, such as bourgeois domesticity at large. Lessing might simply be denouncing selfish parents, and lord knows there are plenty of those out there. Perhaps Lessing means none of these, and simply wants to stick it to her annoying protagonists – in which case, I can’t say I blame her. As someone with little-to-no domestic instincts, I couldn’t relate at all to the Lovatts, and I took a perverse joy in seeing Ben wreak utter havoc on their domestic bliss.

Ben is primitive and violent from the womb, and this behavior only worsens after his birth. To say that he does not interact well with other family members is putting it mildly, and soon, Ben has destroyed the peaceful domesticity that has reigned in the Lovatt house for years before his birth. The Lovatt house, which has become a haven for not only the immediate family but for anyone with even a slight connection to the happy couple, eventually stands empty and nearly abandoned.

The time quickly comes when Harriet must choose between her family and her fifth and final child. What’s a good mother to do? Unfortunately, Harriet’s a sucker. If Ben were my kid, I’d beat his monstrous, symbolic ass back to the Stone Age where he belongs.*

In a nutshell: Short, thought-provoking, and now with that nougaty, Nobel goodness.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars (although I think my overall hatred of the Lovatts is preventing me from rating The Fifth Child higher.)




*This is not entirely true. I’d have killed the little fucker long before it got to that point.**


**This is also not true, as I doubt any child will ever be dumb enough to exit my womb.***


***These points are all moot anyway, since I am very obviously Team Ben. Seriously. Watching Ben tear the Lovatts apart is really quite charming.