Arthur Schopenhauer once said for an individual to suffer was not to merely “understand” what the other was going through; rather to truly experience empathy is to take on the other’s suffering, to literally be crucified with another as opposed to simply carrying their cross, and Draper’s novel Out of my Mind seems to focus on the latter in this powerful novel. Following a fictitious autobiography of Melody, a young girl with a disability restraining her to the confines of a wheelchair and the inability to express any words whatsoever, the book seems to invoke some primal emotions that force one to no longer simply “read about” the character, but actually experience life with her. There is much to say about whether Draper is justified in writing this kind of work; however I find that discussing topics of that nature take us away from the whole point of the book and I’m much more concerned about what the book has to say then whether or not she should have said it.
To begin with, I really appreciated the existential element to Draper’s narrative method. The book did not have a rigid structure which it adhered to, and consequently it became quainter as the story revealed itself, quite akin to a blossoming rose. This particular style would appear to be quite vexing insofar as it has no logical point that it could end per se. Any ending would appear disappointing to a reader in its lack of a formal conclusion. However, the open-ended style of the book is what gave it all its charm. The lack of any sense of ethos from Melody’s contemporaries did not derail the whole book; rather following the main character through her struggles and sharing in her perseverance seemed to endow her with stoic nobility. The inexcusable lack of justice experienced by her colleagues made me reminisce of the Aristotelian tragedy: one that is not viewed as to depress, but to reify certain virtues in the audience. This is what I was speaking of earlier with the modes of compassion and primal sensations: as incomparable misfortunes strike Melody and her family, she seems more whimsical than pathetic.
Christopher Williams is an editor with Synchronized Chaos Magazine and may be reached at cwilli10@ashland.edu. Visit www.sharondraper.com for more information about the author.








