Finding Her Voice

“You asked me if I liked my nickname. My mother was Welsh and had always wished for a boy. When I turned out to be a female ‘disappointment’ to her (her word!), she had to abandon the name ‘Llewellyn’, but settled for Lou-Ellen instead. It was close enough, I guess. She disapproved of ‘modern life’ and modern writing, and was an angry and frustrated writer herself. My home life was not easy, so I found escape and solace in reading, away from the bitter, often violent, conflict between my parents. As I have no siblings or extended family, I kept all of this within. My father was remote and unsympathetic, and ‘took to drink,’ as they used to say. My parents fought continuously. They were, sadly, weak and broken. I bear them no malice, but have always needed to find my own way. I tell you this because I think you understand me. Few people do.”

He noticed her use of the past tense. Was the conflict now at an end, then? He doubted it. He added an encouraging neutral note as a postscript and moved on to the next student’s work, wondering why she had not spoken to him in person rather than confessing private difficulties in print, but perhaps she could speak her mind more freely to him in non-committal written form than in speech, with its essentially intimate eye contact and accompanying body language. Some people were like that, he conceded.

When it came time for the next report, he was quite unprepared for it. Lou-Ellen had made up her mind for another topic altogether. She had made an odd choice of the play Doctor Faustus, by the sixteenth-century playwright Christopher Marlowe, a contemporary of Shakespeare’s. She had read it three times, awestruck by its story, and had also read a sympathetic biography of Marlowe’s tempestuous life and violent death. This was a play with a traditional theme about sin and damnation, written in a bygone Christian era by a rebel against conventional behaviour, now embraced by a modern girl in a post-Christian society, inevitably influenced by the religious skepticism of her own time. Matthews had no reason to think she was religious herself. Perceptive as her understanding of the play was, Matthews felt as he read her report much as a priest must feel listening to a penitent’s confession, for she had written:

“I live in a group home outside the city. It is chaotic working there, with constant fights, arguments, chaos and confusion, but I manage. I use the local library a lot. My housemates are druggies, ‘troubled kids’ from broken homes, just like me, and other lost souls. I am there because I lost my home, my parents, and, at one point, even my voice, lost, doctors say, as a result of ‘domestic trauma.’ My father assaulted my mother and then me. The details are unimportant, but I could not speak for months. I was ‘voiceless’. Even now, I am afraid of being unable to use my vocal cords, and prefer ‘self-revelation’ by way of writing. I know I am not a conversationalist. I have always wanted to be a writer, but never to stand on a stage and spout. I am not an exhibitionist.  I now sleep next door to a ‘very disturbed’ young woman. She screams at night, steals things, and lies about it. I don’t dwell on any of this, and am not seeking pity, but merely explaining the context for my slow progress with my project. No one else knows any of this. I tell you it in confidence. I am drawn to Faustus because I well understand the temptations he succumbed to, and the reason for the playwright’s interest in his character, given his own difficult life. I will prove this to you. Please trust me to find my own way. I know I can rely on your help if I need it. Right now, I need only your mentorship and gentle corrections. I have had more than enough of well-meaning but powerless social workers and guidance counsellors. They talk and talk and it is all so empty! Real change must come from within; it cannot be imposed from without. They have not learned this, for all their ‘expertise’, degrees, and ‘winning’ smiles. I know I WILL rise above my difficulties. I WILL be self-sufficient. My inner voice tells me so.”