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Adrienne YoungA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Jasper, North Carolina, is central to the plot in both its 2023 and 1951 iterations. Despite the multi-temporal setting, parochial elements of the town persist. The town’s perceptions of the Farrow women lend an undercurrent of ominousness and suggest a mob mentality, highlighting the potential problems of small-town life.
Early in the novel, Young connects descriptions of the town with its inhabitants. The town is menacing, with its “curious gazes that follow[s] [June] and Gran on the street and the rumors that skip[] in the air no matter how much time ha[s] passed” (6). The Farrow women are paired with physical details of the setting, illustrating how closely people watch each other in small towns and how smothering this can be.
In the novel, perceptions of so-called “madness” are frequently portrayed as gendered. The Farrow women are perceived as dangers, while Nathaniel—who is evidently a bad and dangerous individual—is perceived positively by the town. The newspaper article about his murder notes that “[o]nly a few years later, he lost his wife, a victim of long-term hysteria. After dedicating his remaining years to the town he loved and cherished, he died at the age of sixty-three” (242-43). The term “hysteria” undercuts Susanna’s experience and minimizes her murder, and Nathaniel’s cruelty is overlooked. This misogynistic perception of women persists in the 2023 setting. As June notes, “No one in Jasper had ever seen me as normal because my grandmother had never been normal” (11). Young suggests that the small-town mentality can propel a tendency to view women as abnormal.
In the 1951 setting, Young portrays an undercurrent of violence and the potential for a mob acting against the Stones. The novel refers to the town as a collective, implying the lack of individual agency and a mass mentality. For example, Eamon “[isn’t] just afraid of the sheriff, he [is] afraid of what Jasper [is] capable of” (170). Additionally, he “seem[s] genuinely concerned about what the town would do if they thought [they] knew anything about what happened to Nathaniel” (173).
The potential for violence creates suspense throughout much of the novel, as well as characterizing Jasper as a setting: “The line between suspicion and fear was a thin one. Jasper was like the still, serene surface that was visible on the deepest parts of the river. It was the undertow you had to worry about” (181). Here, Young uses a simile, where something is compared to something else using “like” or “as.” In this case, she connects the river’s undertow to the trouble brewing beneath Jasper’s polite veneer. While mob violence does not happen in the novel, the threat of such is present throughout. Through gendered perceptions and references to potentially ominous actions, Young emphasizes the complexities of misogyny in a small-town context.
Young emphasizes the circularity of lineage throughout the novel. She suggests the importance of nuanced family connections to one’s path in life. The novel focuses on the matrilineal nature of the curse to emphasize a shared and gendered experience among women, as well as highlighting complexities of parentage and family relationships.
Young explores the idea of women as fading from importance: “Somewhere along the line, one of the Farrow women could have had more than one child, and the Susanna Farrow in the photograph could have been simply lost to history” (54). The Unmaking of June Farrow includes literal instances in which women are lost not to but into history. This emphasizes the fact that women can disappear from history in a metaphorical or actual sense.
Throughout the novel, the curse is closely connected to being different from others, emphasizing the collective experience of the Farrow women. For example, Esther describes the curse to June by highlighting the inevitability of the curse, that “any woman in [their] bloodline will see that door at one point or another, and eventually, she’ll walk through it” (112). Similarly, Birdie notes, “The Farrows are different. You know that. Some part of you has always known that, right?” (80). June’s intrinsic knowledge underscores the connection between the matrilineal curse and identity. Despite the curse’s negativity, it serves to enhance family connections and bonds. For example, soon after June returns to 1951, Esther tells her, “You’re a Farrow, June. This place is as much yours as it is mine, even if you’ve ended up on the wrong end of time” (11).
Young also examines the complexities of parental lineage, particularly through the characters of June and Caleb. June’s relationship with Annie highlights the nuances of the mother-child relationship when disrupted by time and the curse. As Eamon tells June, “She’d only just turned three when you disappeared, but children aren’t the fools we are. She knows you’re not her mother” (130). This emphasizes the fact that June—who doesn’t know Annie yet—is not her mother emotionally. June grapples with this until she begins to remember her daughter.
Similarly, lineage is explored through June’s brother, Caleb. The novel implies that history persists inside of people physically. For example, June can “see the remnants of his father, [their] father, in that crazed look. It [is] the fractured man who stared back at me from that portrait in the diner” (228). Young creates suspense throughout much of the novel, as it is unclear whether Caleb is malicious in the same way as his father. Young also raises questions about whether lineage can be overcome. Caleb’s releasing of June and June’s ending the curse suggest that it can.
Young implies that love is a powerful way to overcome even the most insurmountable obstacles, like curses. While June initially intends to end the curse by avoiding having a family of her own—“It was as good a place as any to end a story. I wasn’t the first Farrow, but I would be the last” (13)—it is ultimately her love for her daughter that compels her to find a way to release her family. Throughout the novel, Young connects the theme of lineage to circularity, the permanence of connections across time, and the idea that family curses can be broken through persistence and caring.
Young emphasizes the connection between memory and self-discovery as June develops in the novel, suggesting that memories are an integral part of selfhood. Initially, June is surprised when Birdie uses the term “memory” to describe her condition: “‘You’re starting to remember.’ She searched my eyes. ‘Right?’ Remember” (17). June experiences her return to the past as memory: “What had Birdie asked me? If I was remembering? That’s exactly how it had felt. Like opening a hole in my mind that held something I’d forgotten” (87). Young depicts the return of absent memory as a physical experience. Because of the novel’s timeline and the first-person perspective, the reader learns details as June remembers them. This emphasizes how missing memories cause a disorienting loss of self.
Young builds the connection between personhood and memory as June begins to remember her life in 1951. June experiences settings as familiar, which inspires her self-questioning: “It felt as if I was the only thing that was different now, and that was a change that couldn’t be undone” (107). Young emphasizes that past choices define one’s present identity. June wonders, “How could I have just walked away? I was only just beginning to think of those choices as my own. In some ways, maybe it wasn’t true, but with each passing day, I found it harder to separate myself from the June who’d lived here” (208). The role of the past is particularly complex because June lacks critical information about the choices she previously made.
Ultimately, Young suggests that memories are important because of relationships. June notes, “There was a part of this story I’d never understand until I remembered [Annie]. There was a version of me that I’d never know” (210). Memory is significant to identity because it represents connection. The novel explores the important link between memory and selfhood, suggesting that an absence of memories constitutes a loss of self. Memories are connected to selfhood because of what they mean in relation to choices and relationships.
By Adrienne Young