The Novel Cure: From Abandonment to Zestlessness: 751 Books to Cure What Ails You (16 page)

See also:
Hospital, being in the
•
Motherhood
•
Pain, being in

See:
Broke, being
•
Busy, being too
•
Busy to read, being too
•
Childbirth
•
Children requiring attention, too many
•
Cope, inability to
•
Family, coping with
•
Fatherhood
•
Motherhood
•
Mother-in-law, being a
•
Noise, too much
•
Single parent, being a
•
Trapped by children

Waterland

GRAHAM SWIFT

•   •   •

She

H. RIDER HAGGARD

P
ondering the positives of not having children is easy for those who are already encumbered. Acres of limitless time to read novels. Sleeping in on Sunday mornings. No modeling clay or mashed banana in your hair. The simple luxury of having an uninterrupted thought, let alone a bath.

But when you have that negative space in your life, the luxury of doing what you want with your time may not have the same appeal. And for those who want to have children but are unable to—for whatever reason—the absence of a child can bring acute feelings of grief and longing. Certainly it does for Mary, the wife of history teacher Tom Crick in Graham Swift’s masterful
Waterland
. Mary’s botched abortion in the hands of a reputed witch when she was just sixteen led to her subsequent infertility. For years she and Tom seem to get along fine without children, but at the age of fifty-three Mary shocks everyone by kidnapping a baby left in its pram by the turnstiles at the supermarket.

Swift’s gorgeous, whimsical novel meanders eellike through several generations of Cricks and Atkinsons on the watery Fens of eastern England. As it unfurls, the tale makes a magnificent case for people being so molded by the landscape from which they come that their destinies are written in its mud. Because this is a place of “unrelieved and monotonous” flatness where, like the silted rivers, spirits are so “sluggish” with phlegm that suicide, drinking, madness, and acts of violence are inescapable. Mary, it seems, cannot escape her roots. Of course one can’t change the past. But one can change one’s vision of the present and the future. The message here is that, unlike Mary, we can choose to let go of what we imagined our lives to be. If things haven’t turned out the way you thought they would, don’t dwell on your preconceptions. Start afresh. Be someone else. (See: Change, resistance to.)

To that end, we offer you a thrillingly positive outlook on childlessness in the form of H. Rider Haggard’s
She
, the fantastical nineteenth-century tale of a white queen ruling over a lost kingdom in an undiscovered realm of Africa. She, or Ayesha to her friends, uses her child-free years to become a goddess among men. Not only does she not lose her looks, but she manages to stay alive for two thousand years. With that much time to put into her career, it’s true, she does become something of a megalomaniac, earning herself the
nickname
She-who-must-be-obeyed
. But Ayesha makes the most of her thirst for knowledge and eventually holds the enigmas of the universe at her fingertips.

She
and its companion piece,
Ayesha: The Return of She
, are royal adventures and rollicking reads—all the better enjoyed for not having constant interruptions from any progeny. Let these spirited novels show you how to glory in your child-free life and use your time and energy to develop other qualities—wisdom, worldly success, and never-ending desirability, for a start. What else will you add to the list?

See also:
Children, under pressure to have
•
Empty-nest syndrome
•
Fatherhood, avoiding
•
Yearning, general

See:
Trapped by children

We Need to Talk About Kevin

LIONEL SHRIVER

I
f you are sick of justifying your childlessness, if you are happy with your life as it is and don’t want to spoil things, if you think the world is populated enough already, if you know that you’d make a useless parent, if you like your nights uninterrupted and your cream sofa without fingerprints, then the next time someone asks you when they’re going to hear the patter of tiny feet in your house, send them this novel for Christmas. They won’t ask you about it again.

See also:
Children, not having
•
Thirtysomething, being

A Christmas Carol

CHARLES DICKENS

C
hristmas can be a time when all your afflictions seem to come at once. If you have a big family, you’ll be stuck under one roof with a big bunch of relatives (see: Family, coping with), which may include a number of overexcited children (see: Motherhood; Fatherhood; Trapped by children). You will probably spend as much in one month as you normally spend in three (see: Broke, being; Tax return, fear of doing). You’ll certainly eat too much (see: Gluttony; Obesity) and get wind and maybe even diarrhea (see: Diarrhea) or the opposite (see: Constipation) and end up paying the penalty for an excess of drink (see: Hangover; or, if you’re a veteran of many punishing Christmases, see: Alcoholism). If you’re married or have a partner, one of you will no doubt have a few run-ins with the in-laws (see: Mother-in-law, having a), which may result in a run-in
with one another (see: Married, being). If you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, you will probably be forced to answer personal questions about this relationship (see: Coming out; Children, under pressure to have). And if you are single, you will be asked why, which may make you wish you weren’t (see: Shelf, fear of being left on the) and leave you feeling unbearably lonely (see: Loneliness). If you don’t have a large family, or are spending Christmas with just the dog, you may indeed feel lonely (again, see: Loneliness) or miss your family (Family, coping without). All in all, Christmas is an experience very likely to lead to loss of faith (see: Faith, loss of) and a desire to lock yourself in a dark closet all alone (see: Misanthropy).

In these pages you will find cures for all of the above. As preventative medicine, read them slowly, over the course of the year, to steel yourself for the big day. And when it comes, announce to your family, partner, Granny, or potted plant that instead of a film on Christmas Day you will be reading aloud to them, around the fire, mulled wine and roasted chestnuts at hand, the multigenerationally appealing
A Christmas Carol
by Charles Dickens.

It is a brilliant ghost story, and however familiar it may be, it doesn’t cease to satisfy children and adults alike. Revel in those ghostly apparitions. Gasp at Scrooge’s greed and cry tears of pity for Tiny Tim. Jubilate with all at the end. And make Dickens an annual tradition. A lovely sense of warmth will pervade your heart as you read—and the hearts of all those to whom you read.