Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Annabel by Kathleen Winter

Kathleen Winter’s novel, Annabel, explores the physical, emotional, and social ramifications of what is a rare and seldom-discussed circumstance.  Set in a rural, rustic outpost of Canada’s Labrador province, the novel opens in 1968 with the birth of Treadway’s and Jacinta’s first child.  Attended by a midwife and two close friends, the delivery is a smooth one, but upon laying the infant upon its mother’s breast, midwife Thomasina notices something peculiar. Beneath the child’s small penis and single testicle lies a vaginal opening.  Far from sensationalizing the intersexed phenomena, Winter’s tale draws the reader more towards empathy than fascination or shock.  When Jacinta is torn between establishing normalcy for her infant via a surgery to correct ambiguous genitalia (all factual and standardized in real-life cases of intersex births), and the desire to let her child, both son and daughter, develop unmarred, the reader is compelled to imagine what his or her own decision would be.  The story progresses beautifully as Wayne (so named after the “corrective” intervention) grows and struggles with a duality he doesn’t understand. Fearing societal reaction Treadway and Jacinta never reveal the true nature of their child to anyone, not even Wayne himself.  Perhaps they would have continued to remain silent, but at age 14 Wayne develops strange symptoms and requires medical intervention.  Thomasina, returned after having spent several years abroad, then reveals to Wayne the reason for the pains in his abdomen, his “unnatural” budding breasts, and the daily medication (explained to Wayne as necessary for treating a blood disorder) he has taken since he was an infant. Readers have no choice but to sympathize with Wayne and struggle to wrap their minds around what would be a baffling and life-changing revelation (Wayne’s medical intervention at 14 revealed yet another stunning secret).  If I read another novel only half as well-written as Annabel this month, I will consider myself very fortunate.

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