Joyce Carol Oates

Oof. I actually stopped and said aloud "This fck'n guy!" many times to reduce my stress and anger while reading.

I wish I could say that all of this has changed for the lower classes and women in general, but it really hasn't. Women have never been treated well by the medical establishment, and continue to be brushed aside in many ways. Our pain is treated as an afterthought. Our distress met with a condescending smile. If we object, we are treated like an unruly child, or if we're very show more unlucky, a "Karen" who is recorded and put on the Internet to be mocked. It's a poison that continues to float. If you know, you know.

Well, at least we all get anesthesia during surgery now.

I read several other reviews, and I'd like to point out that the book is also based upon accounts of other men who experimented on vulnerable people, not just Sims. The biggest difference, of course, being that Weir, the character in the book, experimented upon mentally ill women exclusively. Sims did not. The book is also based upon the lives of "Silas Weir Mitchell, M.D. (1829–1914), “the Father of Medical Neurology”; and Henry Cotton, M.D. (1876–1933), the director of the New Jersey Lunatic Asylum from 1907 to 1930”.

A much longer review - This might be triggery, so I am hiding it under spoiler. Edit 10/19/24:

I had to process this last night. Now, I want to write about it. Oates also did a gorgeous job of including indentured servitude in the list of wrongs to humanity prior to the mid-1800s. Too many people forget indentured servitude was still strong in the north. Too many people forget that indentured servitude still exists underground in many forms, around the world, including underpaid illegal migrants and sex trafficking. They have no protection from those who turn their eyes away from the problems that are bubbling under the surface.

The book also touches on the horrors of adoption of the era. "Unworthy" (white) mother's children were stolen away immediately after birth and sold to a family of higher standing in society. It was essentially the buying and selling of a human being. In the age of open indentured servitude, the rich needed no permission, nor did they need to notify the father or family of the child's birth.

The practice did not end with the outlawing of indentured servitude and the 13th Amendment. Eventually, the unscrupulous practice turned to social manipulation and to the black market, then bribery to procure babies from more lawless lands. Lawyers, (usually religious) NGOs, and the medical community continue the practice to this day. If anyone thinks that adoption is a mercy for the child or the mother, you should examine what adoption is to the biological family.

The experiments with separated twins described in the book continued well into the 20th century. With the advent of DNA testing and the opening of sealed adoption records, separated twins are still finding each other, unaware that their other half existed.

I'm glad that Oates included it. Even though it was a side issue, she did a wonderful job. I wish she would write a book about the modern version. show less

Oh wow, Joyce Carol Oates sure can write! Set in a rundown New Jersey city in the 80s, the novel begins with a missing Black teen, Sybilla, discovered in a destitute house, the apparent victim of a hideous rape/ attack, the perpetrators apparently a group of white cops.
We're never entirely convinced on this one. The sullen daughter and her slightly off-kilter mother seem reluctant to engage with the authorities to get justice. Though as theyre taken up by a self-seeking Black activist, his show more observation that "tellin that poor ravaged girl to go to the po-lice is like tellin Jews to appeal to the Nazi Fuhrer", gives us pause for thought.
The clever thing, for me, is that even as we fail to warm to foul mouthed Syibilla, her mother, murderous stepfather, the corrupt 'Reverend' pushing their cause...and even as we don't buy their tale and rather like the whites who come into it...we still have a sympathy for their plight after decades of police racism, and given the rotten life Sybilla is born into.
The other clever thing is that exactly WHO is the sacrifice is very much up for discussion. There are a number of potential characters, black and white...there is no easy answer to any of it, it's awash with grey areas.
One of the best authors out there. show less

If ever there was bad timing for a book's release, it is the release date of Night. Sleep. Death. The Stars. by Joyce Carol Oates. With its discussion of police brutality and bigotry, one would think it is a perfect time to publish the book. However, the police brutality, in this case, occurs against a wealthy, white family patriarch, which feels more like a declaration of "All Lives Matter" rather than a timely story that contributes to the fight against racist police violence.

Also, the show more tragedy that befalls this larger-than-life patriarch is only the impetus for the rest of the story, which is, in fact, more about the dissolution of the family at the father's death. Granted, the scene of his beating is horrible. It is rare for a scene of violence to bother me in a story, but I had a very difficult time pushing through that scene, which occurs within the first few chapters. I almost opted to mark it as a DNF because the scene was so uncomfortable. However, it is a brief flash in an over-long story, seen and then passed over for his death and the aftermath.

The rest of the novel follows the five children and wife of the patriarch as they each struggle to cope with his passing and his impact on their lives. We quickly find that three of the children are horrible human beings. Selfish, angry, racist, and wholly absorbed in maintaining the status quo, you find those scenes that focus on them to be just as uncomfortable as the police beating. They hide behind their white privilege and ability to donate money to worthy causes to justify their racism and abhor anyone who may actually comingle with someone of another skin color, including their mother.

If that were not bad enough, the scenes that focus on the widow and her grief drag on interminably. I read the novel for over an hour one night and still did not get through that first rush of grief the widow experiences. At some point, you no longer care about her suffering and her utter lack of interest in life. As callous as it sounds, you just want the scene to end so that the story would move forward.

In the background of all this is the fact that the family files a lawsuit against the local police department who caused their father's death. It truly is in the background of the novel, mentioned only as a point of the eldest's anger and obsession. Here is another example of where the story's release may not be the most timely. The McClaren family is wealthy. They can afford to seek legal justice for their father, but they are the exception. Ms. Oates discusses the expense associated with such lawsuits and how they can last for years. There are very few families who can afford to take on such cases and pointing out this fact seems rather tactless.

Night. Sleep. Death. The Stars. is too much of everything. It is too long. Ms. Oates drags out certain scenes, like the widow's grief and battle to simply survive after her husband's death so that they feel never-ending. Three of the siblings are too selfish. The family exhibits too much bigotry and hatred towards those who are not among the family's class. Ms. Oates tries to soften this through various love interests and a burgeoning interest in social justice within the widow, but it does not feel enough. No one calls the three siblings on their white privilege. The family receives closure in their lawsuit, again something that just does not happen in real life. The entire story made me feel uncomfortable, and not because it forced me to look at my own ignorance regarding racism. I don't feel that the story contributes anything to the Black Lives Matter movement. In fact, as I previously said, it feels more like a statement that white people can suffer at the hands of the police as well, which is the epitome of those who declare "All Lives Matter." I finished Night. Sleep. Death. The Stars. rather disgusted with the family, the story in general, and the publisher for releasing the novel. I know Ms. Oates is a literary darling, but this is simply the wrong story for the current situation within the United States right now. show less

In a riveting novel of obsession, we are introduced to Andrew J. Rush, a respectable mystery novelist who feels in control of his life. He just has one secret. He also publishes books under the pen name Jack of Spades - terrible books full of gore and upsetting situations. The trouble really starts when he is sued by a local woman for "stealing her ideas". Fear and shame plagued him, even though the woman is obviously a crank.

Soon, this dark persona, Jack, begins to take over more and more show more of Rush's life. He begins spying on the woman who sued him and leaving creepy notes and gifts to further wind her up. All of this culminates in him breaking into her home at night where she attacks him with an axe. He defends himself and ends up murdering her. Now Jack is in almost full control and is constantly whispering in Rush's ear. And honestly, Jack is making a lot of sense. Consumed by paranoia, aggression and increased alcohol consumption, Mr. Rush finds himself losing control of his life - if he ever had it.

This is an interesting read and the author does a masterful job of subtly changing the narrator's voice throughout. At first he seems reasonable and likeable, but eventually the cracks begin to show through and the reader wonders if he's changed or if we were fooled at the beginning by his superficial charm. show less