I love Naima Brown’s debut novel, The Shot. Mother Tongue is a stand alone story with similar themes: Brown questions the place of women in the world. This story reminds me of a book I borrowed from Tasmania’s state library in the 1990s, a collection or anthology of short stories that I think was called A Woman’s Place. Those women all lived in the same house at different times, disrupting cultural norms. The last woman burnt the house to the ground. We need more women (figuratively) burning it all down. Brown is one of those women, challenging cultural constraints.
If written by the likes of Jonathan Franzen, Mother Tongue would be applauded as a Literary insight into domesticity and contemporary culture. As the author is a woman, I fear it will be somewhat overlooked and underestimated. Furthermore, critics and readers will condemn Brynn, the primary protagonist, instead of interrogating this Literary exploration of womanhood versus cultural expectations.
Trigger warning: tension builds partly via a potential for domestic violence.
Broad brushstrokes
The story begins with Brynn as a mother of a young child. A blow to Brynn’s head causes her to switch to French as her primary language, which changes her outlook on life.
Her husband, Eric, married her believing she wanted to be a “trad wife” (fulltime housekeeper and mother of an increasing brood). Before her accident, Brynn found this life suffocating. After her accident, she finds the courage to change her life, partly because. Eric is a MAGA-type, with superior entitlement issues. Brynn leaves because she fears for her safety.
Subsequent parts of the novel center characters whose lives are closely linked to Brynn, then Mother Tongue concludes with Brynn.
My reaction
As a reader, the first switch between central characters was a surprise. I prefer various points of view are established early then weave throughout. Also I felt … dislocated? within the story, taken by surprise. Reflecting on the novel now, Brown disrupting readers’ expectations is a Literary masterstroke, reflecting the disruption caused by Brynn’s accident.
The other point of view characters – Brynn’s husband Eric, her daughter Jenny, and her childhood friend Lisa – are all deeply affected. This is a story not just about cultural expectations and restraints affecting one woman, but also about how that woman’s journey affects those around her.
The resolution (tiptoeing around spoilers)
The resolution took me by surprise. I expected one of two outcomes but Brown opted for a third path. Thus I became more critical of Brynn, before questioning my reaction and attitudes. This conclusion will trigger similar criticism from many readers. I hope those readers will, like me, mentally gender-flip the story to realize criticism of Brynn is largely based on double standards and the cultural conditioning that Brynn disrupts.
Brown’s conclusion also emphasizes the Literary nature of this novel.
The wrap
Mother Tongue is an engaging yet disruptive read, straddling contemporary fiction and Literary fiction. I highly recommend this novel to book clubs for meaty discussion. Also to teenagers; perhaps high school English Literature classes studying this story can help teens both individuate and empathize with their parents.
