A review by ellephuonglinhnguyen
Bodily Harm by Margaret Atwood

3.0

All I could think of at that time was how to get away from Griswold. I didn't want to be trapped, like my mother. Although I admired her—everyone was always telling me how admirable she was, she was practically a saint—I didn't want to be like her in any way. I didn't want to have a family or be anyone's mother, ever; I had none of those ambitions. I didn't want to own any objects or inherit any. I didn't want to cope. I didn't want to deteriorate. I used to pray that I wouldn't live long enough to get like my grandmother, and now I guess I won't.