The Fifth Child [Paperback]

Lessing tells us the chilling story of the Lovatts. In the unconstrained atmosphere of England in the late 1960's, Harriet and David Lovatt seem to defy the greedy and selfish spirit of the times with their version of tradition and normalcy. They want a large family, all the expected pleasures of a rich and responsible home life, children growing, Harriet tending, David providing. Even as the time's events take a dark turn, with a sudden surge in crime and unemployment, the Lovatt's cling to their belief that an obstinately guarded contentedness will preserve them from the world outside. Until the birth of their fifth child.

Harriet and David are stricken with astonishment at their new infant. Almost "gruesome in appearance, insatiably hungry, abnormally strong, demanding and violent," Ben has nothing infant-like about him, nothing innocent or wholesome, nothing normal by society's standards. Harriet and David understand immediately that he will never be accepted in their world. David cannot bring himself to touch him. Harriet finds she cannot love him as she should love her own child. The four other children are afraid of him. Family and friends who once enjoyed visiting with the Lovatt's begin to stay away.

Now, in this house, where there had been nothing but kindness, warmth, and comfort, there is restraint, wariness, and anxiety. Harriet and David are torn, as they would never have believed possible, between their instincts as parents and their shocked reaction to this fierce and unlovable baby. Their vision of the world as a carefree and ultimately happy place is desperately threatened by the mere existence of one of their own children. As the novel continues, we are drawn deep into the life of the Lovatt family, and are witness to the terrifying confusion of emotions that becomes their daily life as they cope with Ben and with their own responses to him throughout his childhood and adolescence.

Lessing's plot is absolutely brilliant. It was thought out, detailed, and the setting she chose enhances the story. A major problem, however, is that the novel seems to have left something out from Ben and his inner feelings. We never really get to hear his point of view, we cannot understand his reasoning on matters, nor can we relate to him in any way. Lessing should have developed Ben's character more, and brought him closer to the reader. We're left with an empty feeling, a craving for more. The reader wonders if Ben can understand what he is, or what he is doing. Overall, Lessing gave us a wonderful tale, and was only hindered by her use of character development (or lack thereof).

What is Doris Lessing trying to give us? A reflection of society's unwillingness to confront its own most horrific aspects? Is it meant to be a challenge for us to change? Readers have questioned the reasons for Lessing writing this novel. According to her, it is nothing more than a horrifying, yet realistic, story. I agree with her, and think that this story is only that: a story. Readers should not expect a moral at the end of this tale. Susan Sontag states, in her essay Against Interpretation, that "From now to the end of consciousness, we are stuck with the task of defending art." With this novel, we must do the exact opposite, there is no ambiguity involved. Doris Lessing is able to weave complex stories that are amazingly enjoyable to read. As a writer, she is one of the best at capturing the interests of her readers.