Rating: 
Summary: The Fifth Child
Review: We have a pregnant woman where I work--relax, she's not due for a couple of months--and now, after reading this book, I get the shivers when I think she may be carrying around the equivalent of Lessing's loathsome but pathetic creation: Ben. Poor Ben.Ben is the fourth--no, wait, fifth!--child of David and Harriet, who had produced quite a serene home despite running a bit amok in the baby-making derby (to the chagrin of many friends and relatives who don't see how they can manage or finance so many mouths to feed). They live in a gigantic house that they can't really afford, away from the bustle of London--but they create their own bustle with so many kids (and plans for as many as ten in total!), and frequent holiday parties, where the doors are thrown open to guests of all sorts. Many of the guests stay on for indefinite periods, creating a time-tested support network, including stoic Dorothy, who helps raise the assorted kids, and David's father--call him moneybags--who grudgingly comes up with the cash to help his less-successful son afford the little, densely populated microcosm of busy-bee harmony he has sired. But then, it all changes, when Ben is conceived. Harriet's pregnancy with the fifth child is an awful thing of pain and distress and little sleep. Ben breeds resentment well before he sees the world. When he is born, he takes over the lives of everyone in the house, and those who cannot flee and stop visiting--like his mother, father, and siblings--face the challenge of co-habiting with what seems to be a little monster. Little? Ben comes across as some kind of titanic, destructive force of nature--and the always-disturbing dynamic with his withering mother becomes the focus of the narrative; in truth, the only weak spot of this eerie tale is Lessing's handling of Ben's father, who seems to clock out of the story by hiding out at work, and when showing up, not displaying much personality. But given Ben's shattering presence, I suppose someone had to get squeezed out of the picture. Harriet struggles to make the right choices when dealing with her cold, snarling troll of a child; she makes a few shocking choices, like sending Ben to a rather horrid place of rejected children, at least for a time, and neglecting Paul, the child who came before Ben, and who starts to scar from lack of nurturing. But through it all, it's hard not to feel for poor Harriet, never mind "poor Ben". Compelling stuff that has led to a sequel.
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