A mournful look at the inevitable shift from carefree child to responsibility-laden adult runs throughout Penni Russon’s short story. As the narrator undergoes a regular day in caring for her three daughters whilst wondering as to the whereabouts of her partner, Russon asks her audience about when we forget to play, to enjoy and to embrace a sense of freedom in our lives.
The character’s inability to feel such freedom is represented by her inability to dream, as the day to day tasks as a parent and wife take on “the same weight”. In order to fully develop this idea of freedom and playfulness being lost at some point, Russon creates many situations where the narrator is divided from her children who are depicted in various forms of activity and freedom throughout the day.
The opening of the story, where Russon pointedly remarks on how she is “sleeping” (not dreaming), provides the first instance of the impact that her adult responsibilities are placing upon her. Her youngest daughter, Mimi, is described as “weighing down” her legs as she climbs onto her bed. This weight is again referenced as the narrator points out how “heavy” Mimi is in her arms as she carries her. The children, oblivious to their mother’s concerns and frustrations, eat breakfast without appetite or any appreciation, further reinforcing the thankless nature of what the narrator’s life has become. As they venture into the world of play and imagination outside, Russon carefully points out the “threshold” between the two worlds, with the narrator “haunting” the rooms as she engages with further domestic duties and concerns as to her husband’s whereabouts. As she works, the birds are described as “belling to each other outside” – a reminder of the stark contrast between her world and that of the free who roam outside. This is one of many allusions to animals and the freedoms they enjoy. Russon later describes the children as “puppies... tumbling over and lying on top of each other.” Through such descriptions, the lack of adult thought and the complications of adult life are exhibited, with Russon outlining the jealousy experienced by the narrator who yearns for a sense of play and adventure to return to her life.
“Every insect, spider, bird, human man or kangaroo she has ever encountered - living or dead - is a temporarily lost child.”
A link to the past is created as the narrator speaks to her sister and they reminisce on endless summer days, lost in the freedom of make believe. The realisation that their lack of connection to the free spirited children they once were sees them now as being more similar to their mother comes as a shocking realisation to the pair, who resist such a thought strongly. As readers, we are provided with a glimpse as to how we inevitably must grow beyond our youth and become that which we never dreamed we could, or would, become and a sense of grieving for who we may have once been is introduced to the story. The sister’s startling realisation of the time brings the two of them back to the reality of their days and the responsibilities that still weigh upon them. The elongated playing and suspending of reality of the children outside is juxtaposed against the brief departure from the norm experienced by the narrator through the phone call.
The complication of the narrative lies in the narrator’s temporary loss of her youngest, who’s name echoes back to the narrator as Me? Me? – a chilling reminder of the character’s loss of innocence. In her desire to find out more about a car that has swerved off the road, the narrator finds another abandoned vehicle, noticing how “its soft insides had long since rotted away.” This blunt imagery of death and decay speaks to the underlying theme of loss of freedom, with the inevitable hardening of a person as they reach adulthood portrayed through “the tyre-stripped wheels...which had formed a new hard surface around them”.
Penni Russon’s poignant short story serves as a contemplative exploration of the inexorable transition from carefree childhood to the burdensome responsibilities of adulthood. The narrative revolves around the protagonist’s routine struggles as a mother of three, juxtaposed against her yearning for the forgotten realms of play and unbridled freedom. Russon adeptly illustrates the character’s diminishing capacity to dream, mirroring the weightiness of parental and marital obligations. As such, play is depicted as the stuff of children and something that takes up little space in the lives of adults, much to the detriment of their wellbeing and happiness.
The teaching package from where this reading has been taken from is available on our resources page. Please reachout if you would like any further support with your teaching of this area of study.
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