Prince of Tides

Early in the novel, the narrator, Tom, describes his childhood memories as “part elegy, part nightmare” (7). Recalling his childhood requires a “commitment” (7) that he and his siblings are not willing to undertake because they would “prefer to forget” (7). The Wingo siblings have had a difficult childhood, and each chooses to deal with it in their own way. Luke follows the family line of willful forgetting; Tom remembers but keeps the memories suppressed; Savannah, the most honest one, lets out the memories through periods of blackouts, her writing, and magical thinking. As Tom notes, Savannah often tells reporters that she and her brothers “walked on the backs of dolphins and whales” (7) during their childhood. There were no whales in their childhood, of course, but by refashioning her memories, Savannah tries to gain control of her narrative. The Wingo children’s trouble processing their childhood is magnified by the fact that their trauma is never acknowledged, let alone resolved. While their father, Henry, beats them up, their mother, Lila, manipulates them. Lila also makes her sons, especially Tom, think they are the man in her life and indulges in boundary-crossing behavior. In Chapter 7, she presses her breasts against the teenage Tom and kisses him on the face and chest, leaving him “paralyzed by such sudden and passionate intimacy” (178). But in the present day, neither of his parents acknowledge their childhood abuse of their children. When Tom reminds Henry of his beatings, Henry says he never “once touched my children” (569). For Tom, the fact of Henry’s denial is worse than the beatings since Henry is trying to erase Tom’s memory.

Not only do the parents deny their abuse, but Lila also makes the children keep the most horrific trauma of their lives a complete secret. After the sexual attack on her and her children and the subsequent killing of their attackers, Lila tells the children to be silent about the incident since the family “have too much pride to tell what happened today” (484). The narrative purposefully juxtaposes the sheer graphic violence of the attack with Lila’s denial. Lila is more concerned about her children being naked in front of each other than about what they have just undergone, telling them she has raised them to be “decent and refined citizens” (484). However, memory is irrepressible, and the wounds on the psyche will make their presence known. Unacknowledged trauma and secrets spill out of Savannah as literal blood since her first suicide attempt. Her bloodletting is a metaphor for releasing the unspeakable truth. Tom astutely observes Savannah harms herself because “my mother had raised a daughter who could be silent but could not lie” (489). Henry and Lila also deny their role in Savannah’s mental health, reiterating that she was born with it and the environment in which she was raised played no part in furthering her psychosis.

While in Savannah, the suppressed trauma erupts as self-harm and art; in Tom, it shows up as a misogynistic streak that he recognizes and keeps in check. Tom is also prone to depression and moodiness. On the other hand, the strong one, Luke, completely cracks by the end of the novel at the prospect of losing Colleton, his sanctuary in the world. The narrative suggests that unprocessed trauma and family secrets and lies have extremely far-reaching consequences in people's lives. The family begins its journey towards catharsis and redemption only when Savannah and then Tom begin telling the truth about their childhood.