Title & author
Bad Fruit by Ella King
Synopsis
Lily strives to determine a sense of self the summer before college despite attempts by her parents and siblings to define her. In Bad Fruit, Ella King explores generational trauma, specifically the normalization of violence in families, but without the idolization all too common in today’s media; Rather, she shows there is a way out.
Who should read this book
Fans of Chelsea Bieker’s Godshsot and Heartbroke
What we’re thinking about
Society’s upholdment and furthering of generational trauma
Trigger warning(s)
Physical violence, sexual violence, substance abuse, eating disorders, sexism, mental health, racism, abandonment, fatphobia, self-harm, xenophobia
“How do you come back to yourself when you’re not there?” writes Ella King in her debut novel Bad Fruit (Astra House, 2022). The question echoes throughout the story as Lily strives to determine a sense of self the summer before college, despite attempts by her parents and siblings to define her. In Bad Fruit, King explores generational trauma, specifically the normalization of violence in families, but without the idolization all too common in today’s media (the trend that has come to be known as “trauma porn”); Rather, she shows there is a way out.
The complicated truth is that motherhood has the power to shape each and every one of us, whether we identify as mothers, have or don’t have mothers, or have distanced ourselves from our mother-figures. In part inspired by King’s trip to Cambodia during which she spoke with women about posttraumatic stress from the Cambodian Genocide in the 1970s, Bad Fruit explores the trauma mothers pass down through generations. “‘This is real motherhood, real daughterhood,’” Lily’s sister insists about stab wounds from their mother (King, 185). The violence Lily’s mother May experienced as a child in Singapore influences her treatment of her children. And despite the physical and emotional abuse Lily faces from her mother, she possesses a loyalty to her mom, eager to prove herself as worthy of love. “She will sketch these images forever, mother and child, mother and child, trying to solve the dark clot of a question we dare not utter even to ourselves: If our mother loves us, why does she hurt us?” (185).
But in the violent absurdity that has become Lily’s life—every day scenes emphasizing both the violence and also the trauma her mother has experienced—there is a thread of hope for escape. Woven between the moments in which Lily’s mother forces her to change her appearance to look more Chinese or to prepare slightly spoiled juice, Lily unlocks pieces of both her own and her mother’s past, largely with her friend Lewis’s help. She begins to see that her mother’s behavior is abusive. When Lewis asks how she is, Lily shakes her head “and it seems like the bravest thing [she’s] ever done” (82). King paints a way out, demonstrating the importance of guiding figures, whether that be trusted adults, teachers, social workers, etc.
Through its emphasis on intergenerational trauma and Lily’s journey to separate herself from her emotionally, physically, and mentally abusive family, Bad Fruit lays bare the necessity of fighting the root causes of trauma: racism, sexism, colonialism, imperialism, and other forms of oppressive behavior. “Change my hair, my skin color, my eyes. No one would question whose daughter I was” (53). Lily cannot be herself until she learns who exactly that is—which in turn cannot be accomplished without seeing the way societal oppression has influenced her mother’s views, her father’s own role as an accomplice, and her siblings’ internalized beliefs. And the story serves as an allegory for how we as a society must do the same. Generational trauma must be believed, addressed, and compensated (whether monetarily, through policy, etc.) if we are to prevent such violence from occurring in the future. Just as it is not enough for May or Lily’s father to simply apologize; apologies must be rooted in concrete action to demonstrate change. “The relentless line of mothers and daughters hurting and inflicting hurt…Our inheritance isn’t a degree or rent. It’s a fire. It’s a shed” (248). And the cycle won’t be broken until we dismantle the systemic and systematic violence integrated into the very fabric of our society.
Read more about organizations working to fight generational trauma here.
“The relentless line of mothers and daughters hurting and inflicting hurt…Our inheritance isn’t a degree or rent. It’s a fire. It’s a shed.”
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