Powerful Description in Little Darlings

The use of description in Little Darlings by Melanie Golding powerfully drives an otherwise simple story forward. The main thrust of the plot is that a woman’s children are stolen or traded for children that aren’t hers, and the only reason that the reader is so invested is how the writer describes the bond between mother and children. I’m a man, and I was so into it, I felt like I had given birth to twin boys and were connecting with them. The effect to the reader is profound. 

Even an awful moment like the immediate days after the trauma of birth are profound, “Her nipples were torn and raw, and the pain in her uterus was dulled only slightly by the co-comadol she had recklessly taken despite the implied threat of further confinement (Are you sure? It might make you constipated, flower).” The physical description of her body with the destroyed pelvic floor and the pain of the body after birth gives the reader an excellent description of post-birth pain, bodies, and trauma. 

Another moment is created in only a line and that is when her husband leaves her after the birth, “He kissed her head and both babies. He walked away a little too quickly.” That is a powerful moment created in only a line. The reader is well aware of many things in that single line. It is a clue to the relationship between Patrick and Lauren. The writer does not need to tell us that he is detached, she gives the feeling that he is detached from the situation. This also adds to the further isolation of Lauren. 

It’s fairly obvious that the writer is a mother, but the level of description is profound. So, when the babies go missing/traded the reader is as invested into the children as the mother, Lauren, in why these babies have been taken or substituted. The best part about this book is that we get two perspectives. The female officer, Jo Harper, is another perspective used throughout the book from time to time. An interesting thing happens when it comes to description, the police officer chapters are not nearly as descriptive as the chapters with Lauren, the mom. This works because the reader is far ahead of the police when it comes to what is happening to Lauren and what leads up to her babies disappearing. The book opens with Lauren trying to drown her children, although she does not believe that the children are hers. 

The book delves deeply into the psychosis of Lauren. She is afraid of someone stealing her children, and she seems crazy until it happens. The journey into her psychosis is potent. In the days after she gets home from the hospital, she is still exhausted and the trauma of birth feeds into what becomes postpartum depression. “Lauren forced her stinging eyelids apart. There was danger in falling asleep, especially when the babies were quiet: a silent thief could seize the opportunity to sneak in.” The lack of sleep begins the seeds of her psychosis and the crisis of reality. 

The way the book is structured, it is often not clear where the delusion of Lauren ends and reality begins until reality comes crashing in. I also found it interesting, in this story, how absent her husband is from the situation. Sometimes, description is powerful in what is not on the page. She clearly needs him, but he is nowhere to be found. This is often the case for new parents, but this only feeds Lauren’s psychosis and ultimate crisis. Many chapters begin with quotes that talk about how mothers shouldn’t be left alone or how children can get stolen. All of these builds up to that seminal moment that started the book.