Humanizing Prisoners: Necessary and Beautiful
- Julie Heming
- Jul 21, 2019
- 3 min read
Growing up around Pittsburgh, every time I ventured into the city, whether with my mom when I was younger, or by myself or with friends when I got older, I couldn't help but stare at the prison plopped in the center of the city, roads and overpasses twisting around the building like vines choking a stone.
What amazed me were the windows. They were so small, so perfectly square, so blank. I looked in those windows every time I passed by. What I was looking for, I don't know. I once saw a potted plant. I never saw movement.
Then, last week, as I was passing by, I looked in those windows, and my gaze moved past the square windows to the wider panes of glass in what must be hallways, or dining rooms (and they probably weren't glass but some impenetrable, bulletproof material). I looked up and gave a small start. I saw two men in orange jumpsuits standing side by side, staring at the cars passing by below them.
That was the first time I saw people there. And it startled me, I think, because I forgot real people lived there. And then two of them appeared before me, looking like they were staring straight down at me.
Prisoners are often invisible unless you know someone behind the bars and those incongruously square windows. Out of sight, out of mind, and prisons, by nature, are meant to stay out of sight.
Do we need prisons? Probably. At least, I can't think of a better alternative at the moment. But is the incarceration system perfect? Definitely not. The Mars Room by Rachel Kushner examines the injustices of the justice system (oh, irony), specifically for women of low socioeconomic status.
The protagonist is Romy Hall, a woman facing two life sentences at California's Stanville Women’s Correctional Facility. Her new life consists of staying out of fights, making friends, smuggling items, and befriending the prison's tutor to gain any information she can about her young son Jackson, alone in the outside world, now that she's behind bars. As the novel progresses, the reader understands why Romy is in jail: her actions, her motives, and the lack of care and attention by the jury and court.
This book exposes the lack of choices women of low socioeconomic background face. For them, prison is almost a required stage of life, the same as hitting fifty and officially being considered middle-aged is for everyone else. Prisoners, overtaxed public defenders, dirty cops, stalkers, and strippers are all given voices here, all made human, though not all likable.
Romy is complex, a full character, and this is what gives her and The Mars Room its power: humanity.
There are two issues I have with this book. The first is that some storylines remain unfinished by book's end. While Romy dominates the book, Doc, Gordon Hauser, and other characters like Kennedy and Sammy each have their own chapters, told from their own points of view. While Romy finishes the book (as she should), I found myself wondering what happened to the other players.
The second is the potential for romanticizing the lifestyle many women of low socioeconomic status face. The latter is less a problem of Kushner's writing (which I think she purposefully tried to steer away from romanticization), but more with the mores of the readers. There was something almost Lana del Rey-esque about the prevalence of drugs, sex, and young girls. However, these are real issues facing thousands of women, so they should be portrayed in literature. Sometimes, people just have a habit of sexualizing and romanticizing anything related to women.
I say this about a lot of novels, but the ending felt a bit rushed. Despite this, the final sentences were beautiful, impactful, and didn't leave the sour taste of contrived cliche in my mouth. A rare combination.
The subject matter sounds heavy, turbulent, dark, and gritty. And the book is all of these things. Life is all of these things. But the pages move quickly, and the authenticity of the characters' voices prevents the reading experience from falling into bleak despair. There is urgency, there is humor, there is brutality, and there is the impossibility of human connections. It is real, sharp where it needs to be, and like a quick brush of skin, or the kiss of a butterfly wing, a touch so gentle, it's destructive, it rips worlds apart.
8/10 📕
Comments