Kushner's follow-up to the hugely- and rightfully- lauded 2013 bestseller The Flamethrowers is a blistering and unflinching look at the flawed federal prison system for women in the US.
Before I get accused of reviewing a book that was published last year, in my defence, I had all of the Man Booker shortlist to work through over the festive period, and beyond. The usual customary Christmas haul of books was a veritable feast of literary excellence that stacked nearly to waist height, and took many hours happily spent curled up next to the radiator (the indisputable queen of reading spots).
For reasons purely coincidental, The Mars Room was one of the last, but certainly not the least. At risk of sounding too metaphysical, that is the beauty of literature; even if the story is rooted in history, the themes are often timeless, transcending the page to become commentary on time past, and time yet to come.
That is the beauty of literature; even if the story is rooted in history, the themes are often timeless, transcending the page to become commentary on time past, and time yet to come.
So late I may be, but The Mars Room certainly falls into the bracket of having a prevalent message that is as important today as it was when it was published, and certainly will still ring true many years from now. The novel does not shy away from hugely contentious topics; Kushner deftly explores what it is like to be poor, a woman and a felon, in the American justice system.
Our protagonist Romy Hall is 29, facing two consecutive life sentences for killing her stalker, and on the bus to Stanville Women's Penitentiary where she will see out the rest of her life. The novel seamlessly jumps between past and present, exposing the tragic systematic abuse, through her drug-addled mother and sexual violence inflicted upon her at the age of 11, that leads Romy to the point of no return.
The title refers to the strip club where Romy inevitably washes up, and which is the catalyst of her incarceration, as it is the setting where her stalker is introduced to her, and her life changes forever. The Mars Room is her death sentence and her downfall; but it is also the place that saved her from a worse fate of life on the streets. That tragic contradiction of this is a microcosm of American society at large, and Kushner does not shy away from the momentous task of tackling this issue, without trivialising it.
The Mars Room is her death sentence and her downfall; but it is also the place that saved her from a worse fate of life on the streets. That tragic contradiction of this is a microcosm of American society at large.
The novel also explores female hierarchies and friendships, both in the outside world, and in jail. Orange is The New Black this is not; Kushner expertly injects warmth, humanity and even humour into an at times bleak atmosphere, with a subtly that can only be achieved through prose, not programmes. The inmates are not supporting cast members with little quirks, they are actualised beings injected with the realism of having dark and uncompromising histories.
Male voices are sparse, and as flawed as the females in the narrative. It is established early on that this is a book mainly from a female perspective, which is obvious considering the subject matter, and does not feel contrived. Two men - a dirty cop and a teacher at the prison - are given chapters, but it is clear that it isn't really their tale to tell. Romy's son, Jackson, is the only character who is exempt from this harsh gaze on both male and female characters, and he too is somewhat of a plot device, albeit an effective one. He comes to represent youth uncorrupted, and is fleshed out only by Romy's maternal yearnings, her conflict between wishing a better life for him while hoping she can see him again. This serves as another desperate impossibility that Kushner uses to highlight the flaws in the justice system, and in the imbalance that often affects the most vulnerable and poor in society.
Light reading it is not, but worthy, undoubtedly.
It must be acknowledged that the 2018 list was an outstanding year for women - indeed the overall winner was the brilliant Milkman by Anna Burns. The Mars Room was amongst fierce female competitors, but it shines in its own light, as a damning indictment of blanket justice that does not acknowledge social standing, and a society that refuses to address the divide between rich and poor in the first place. Rachel Kushner has once again produced a work of brilliance, of poignant reflection and of humour in humanity's darkest moments.
I would urge everyone to pick yourself up a copy of The Mars Room and delve into the dark and dangerous world of Stanville Penitentiary. You might not always enjoy the path it takes you on, but you'll be very glad that you undertook the journey with Romy and co.
The Mars Room is available from all good bookstores, or if you're part of the 21st century and don't visit bookstores (booooo!) the usual places for the tech-savvy among us.