A therapist reckons with her own trauma, in the shadow of Australia's collective shame

Jacinta Halloran’s novel reminds us we can’t choose who tells the stories we use to understand the past. Mish Mackay

One story, however, is clearly presented to the reader without interpretation. Twelve-year-old Poppy writes about going into the desert and the reader is given her verbatim account. It is important that Poppy’s narrative operates independently in this way – she represents future generations who will be impacted by the psychic work her parents do or don’t do. Her writing opens up questions of interiority, time and remembering. These questions drive the whole novel – whether personally, politically or historically.

Nina’s boss Melita often provides points of reflection in relation to these themes. As Nina recounts: “when we told stories of our childhood, Melita said, we were always speaking in metaphors”. Melita considers the act of remembering and the role of time.

Earlier in the novel, she says: “What if, instead of having anxiety or depression, we just had a troubled relationship with time?” She points to those who look backwards, believing “their best days had passed” and those who look to the future, “standing on shaky ground of expectation, planning for every contingency”.

With pilates, Melita says, the body can relieve us of these two states by anchoring us in the present. It’s telling that Melita chooses a physical activity to achieve mindfulness, as the body is also a site for trauma – and reckoning with trauma is a prominent theme in the novel. Later, Melita suggests it would be easier if

our clients wore their psychological and spiritual wounds on their body […] an old, proud scar which communicated that this person had done battle.

The trauma explored in this book is also collective, the trauma of a nation. As Lisa Agostino says:

We were all of us living every day with the repressed shame of genocide … and nothing we did would wipe that away, so long as we continued to live in this country.

Throughout these stories and reckonings, the novel interrogates the usefulness of psychology in the face of past trauma. We see this as Nina narrates her own struggles, as well as in Erin’s insights during their sessions. Both therapists question their roles, their interventions and their interpretations.

Read more: 'How are they losing their children like this?' Fiona McFarlane's novel interrogates the stain of white presence on Aboriginal land

Nina’s mother says that it’s hard to keep trusting one’s instincts in the face of a “so-called expert on the human mind”. In the story world, this can read as a dig at Nina, or the larger profession. But it feels like Halloran may also be playing devil’s advocate with the novel itself.

Resistance is a poignant, thoughtful novel with layered meanings, but it’s also an engaging and quick read. I found myself wanting to return to the world Halloran has created, and wondering what was ahead for these multi-faceted characters. Halloran offers an intriguing set-up that pays off in understated ways. Story is a vehicle for deeper reckoning here as the characters face their own – and others’ – resistance.

Authors: Shady Cosgrove, Associate Professor, Creative Writing, University of Wollongong

Read more https://theconversation.com/a-therapist-reckons-with-her-own-trauma-in-the-shadow-of-australias-collective-shame-197425