100%

Scanned image of the page. Keyboard directions: use + to zoom in, - to zoom out, arrow keys to pan inside the viewer.

Page Options

Download this Issue

Share

Something wrong?

Something wrong with this page? Report problem.

Rights / Permissions

This collection, digitized in collaboration with the Michigan Daily and the Board for Student Publications, contains materials that are protected by copyright law. Access to these materials is provided for non-profit educational and research purposes. If you use an item from this collection, it is your responsibility to consider the work's copyright status and obtain any required permission.

February 21, 2020 - Image 5

Resource type:
Text
Publication:
The Michigan Daily

Disclaimer: Computer generated plain text may have errors. Read more about this.

As enticing as a story about a manipulative
mother who systematically poisons her daughter
for years sounds, Stephanie Wrobel’s debut
“Darling Rose Gold” manages to add an even
more interesting wrinkle to this premise. It’s
likely you’ve heard of Munchausen syndrome
by proxy (MSBP): A child’s caretaker fabricates
illnesses to make the child seem sick. This form
of child abuse is a focal point of depictions
such as HBO’s documentary “Mommy Dead
and Dearest” and Hulu’s “The Act.” For the
most part, such narratives culminate with the
revelation that leads to the caretaker’s arrest,
but Wrobel states that her novel “begins where
most novels … end — with the reveal upfront.”
Patty Watts has been in prison for five years,
and the novel begins with the day of her release,
when her daughter, Rose Gold Watts, takes her
in, seemingly forgiving her for poisoning her for
eighteen years of her life. The reader experiences
the present through Patty’s eyes, and the five
years during which she’s imprisoned through
Rose Gold’s eyes, and as these two narratives
come closer to intertwining, the question
remains: Why would Rose Gold give her mother
shelter? Wrobel draws out the suspense of this
question well, and the uncertainty of the answer
carries much of the novel’s momentum. But not
effectively enough.
I was struck by how poor the novel’s attempt

was at creating a compelling and realistic
abusive mother, and when half the novel
devolves into disengaging and inauthentic first-
person narration, it’s difficult to take the story
seriously. The concept of “show don’t tell” is
nonexistent here. Patty is reduced to a hand-
wringing caricature, comically thinking to
herself about how she can
manipulate
her
daughter
again, “She’s not the only
Watts capable of forming a
plan … Now I know her weak
spot: Adam,” (Rose Gold’s
infant son). Patty’s character
lacks nuance, her reasoning
is simplistic. While MSBP
is a real phenomenon, and
there have certainly been
individuals similar to Patty
Watts, Wrobel’s novel lacks
an
awareness
that
such
individuals are still human,
and should still be portrayed
as such.
Regardless of the morality of a character’s
actions, they should still be sincere. Patty
is jarring, not because of the audacity of
her actions, but because of the lack of depth
underlying them. Few people explicitly declare
and acknowledge the intentions, biases and
motivations behind their every thought. Wrobel
hamfistedly pushes the narrative that Patty
Watts is one-dimensionally bitter, vengeful and
hateful. Every other page, Patty pats herself

on the back for pissing off the reader with her
willful obstinance. All this being said, I had no
problem with Patty’s actions themselves. Her
character would have been better served by
subtlety and humanity. She should have been
a character who the reader wants to hate, but
can’t quite hate because the reader understands
her on some level.
In contrast to this, the
eponymous character, Rose
Gold, does add an intriguing
level of depth to Wrobel’s
debut.
Ironically,
Wrobel
stated
that
her
biggest
difficulty in writing the
novel was “getting Rose
Gold’s voice right.” While
Rose
Gold
suffers
from
some of the artless one-
dimensionality Patty does,
her character arc throughout
the novel is both engaging
and realistic. For the most
part, satisfactory character
development is hindered by the time spent on
her mother’s character, and if more time were
to be invested in her character (and less in her
mother’s), the novel would be considerably
better. Regardless of these caveats, Rose Gold
effectively inspires pity and dread as the reader
witnesses her embark on an increasingly toxic
trajectory. Her struggle to break free from
Patty’s legacy, even as Rose Gold is haunted by
similarities she shares with her mother, is tragic

and sobering. Though a few of the similarities
Rose Gold begins to show are somewhat
incongruent with the rest of her established
character, she remains a grim reminder of how
children of abuse struggle to break free long
after they escape the abuser. Thus, much of the
suspense is built upon whether or not Rose Gold
is able to mature before her path is cemented.
One of “Darling Rose Gold’s” biggest strengths
is the novelty of the premise. Though MSBP is
commonly depicted in media, Wrobel portrays a
stage of headline-making criminal cases that is
often ignored: the aftermath. Her novel shows
the unpleasant reality that, often, after justice
is served, a happy ending isn’t a certainty, and
recovery isn’t easy. The novel illustrates one of
the many shortcomings of the punitive American
criminal justice system, which often accounts
for neither the victim’s nor the perpetrator’s
welfare following the verdict. It’s a relevant
issue to consider, and the intrigue of Rose Gold’s
emotional transformation throughout the novel
demonstrates the potential for such narratives.
Though the novel’s third act was by far the
strongest, with a page-turning climax and an
unexpectedly somber ending, the same could
have been accomplished if the novel had focused
solely on Rose Gold’s recovery and struggles.
It’s unfortunate that so much of “Darling
Rose Gold” was defined by what could have
been, but the novel struggled to fully develop
fruitful emotional connections with the reader,
and what resulted was a so-so character study of
a warring mother and daughter.

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Friday, February 21, 2020 — 5

Coming out of the theatre after “Portrait of
a Lady on Fire,” I felt a little disappointed. The
plot had seemed right up my alley: in the late
1700s, a painter (Noémie Merlant, “Heaven
Will Wait”) and her subject (Adèle Haenel,
“Suzanne”), an aristocratic woman about
to be married to a stranger, fall in love. The
performances were great from the start, which
was a good sign. Both
Marianne, the artist, and
Héloïse, the aristocrat,
are played wonderfully
by Merland and Haenel.
The
cinematography
is
immaculate
too,
perfectly
capturing
a
rustic French villa that
lies next to a sparkling
sea. Still, for most of the
movie, I was bored out
of my skull.
We
never
learn
much about the two
characters, except that one is a painter and
the other is an aristocrat who doesn’t want
to get married. Certain questions that more
conventional movies would address, such as
what it’s like growing up LGBTQ+ in a hostile
time, are thrown to the wayside for understated
scenes where little is said. Mostly, characters
spend time walking on the beach, painting,
looking at paintings, and making out. I wasn’t
sure what these women saw in one another, or
what they got out of their relationship. It’s hard
to care about them without knowing what’s at
stake.
The movie plays out like a long, hazy daydream
about two 1700s-era women I knew little about.

There are moments that blow past this subdued
temporal distance, especially the titular scene:
a black dress burns while the woman wearing
it stares intently into the camera. In another,
a maid discovers she is pregnant and frankly
admits she wants an abortion, blowing through
usual “period piece” stereotypes. These piercing
scenes were few and far between, though, and
mostly I was underwhelmed. This is a shame,
because one of my favorite genres is LGBTQ+
cinema.
Why
didn’t
“Portrait”
affect
me
like
“Moonlight,” “Call Me by
Your Name” and “Love
Simon” did? On my way
home from the movie,
I
realized
what
was
lacking: joy.
In “Moonlight,” Chiron
discovers his sexuality
through a moonlit kiss
on a Californian beach.
In “Call Me By Your
Name,” Elio and Oliver
first kiss in a whispering
grass field under a shady
tree. The kiss in “Love
Simon” is atop a ferris wheel during a fireworks
show, while an entire high school cheers the
couple on. Even “The Favourite” had joyous
(albeit deranged) love between Queen Anne and
her female suitors.
The ending of “Portrait” has no crazy leap of
faith, no unexpected, perfect lovers’ reunion
and there’s no ferris wheel to be found. It ends
sadly, and I wonder why these two women
let things end without putting up any kind of
fight. Yet is it realistic of me to ask for a happy
ending for characters who lived in a time when
LGBTQ+ identities were ignored, marginalized
and directly attacked?
Perhaps I’ve been a tad spoiled by the

recent flourishing of queer cinema. While
essential, and utterly triumphant, the cinematic
mainstream’s embrace of LGBTQ+ characters
has been a tad one-dimensional.
Take two recent examples from this past
summer. In “Rocketman,” Elton John goes
through a tumultuous journey of fame and self

discovery that culminates with the perfect
American husband and kids. In “Booksmart,”

Amy’s first time ends with her puking on the
girl, but she still somehow gets her phone
number by the movie’s end.
Love is a spectrum, and queer cinema should
reflect that. It can be sublime, but more often
than not it has shades of frustration, confusion
and, yes, boredom. Endings aren’t always happy,
and beginnings aren’t either. Would it really be
realistic for a film set in the 1700s to have two
women find perfect, unrestrained happiness
in a relationship deemed a mortal sin by their
society? In that situation, I’d be hesitant too.
While it’s been great to revel in the colorful,
excited sense of romance in recent LGBTQ+
movies, more complex fare must be encouraged
too.
Other
countries,
time
periods
and
experiences should be brought to the table, and
every queer film is valid no matter the amount
of fireworks.
In retrospect, I’m glad “Portrait of a Lady on
Fire” took such a realistic approach, and look
forward to seeing it again.

What ‘Portrait of a Lady on Fire’ says about queer cinema

FILM REVIEW

‘Darling Rose Gold’ has a smart premise but falls flat

BOOK REVIEW

ANDREW WARRICK
Daily Arts Writer

NEON

Making DIY music work in Southeastern Michigan

DIY can be difficult. Finding venues for your
band to play can be a nearly impossible task,
especially when you’re trying to perform outside
of your hometown. Frantically reaching out
to strangers or friends that might be loosely
connected to a scene can be very hit-or-miss, and
pay-to-play venues rarely work out in your favor.
However, for bands looking to play Southeastern
Michigan, it might be easier than you think.
Outta This World Booking is a group that aims
to help smaller, self-run bands find shows around
Michigan.
“I’ve been playing shows since the end of high
school, and I grew up going to shows,” Pat Ray,
the founder of the booking group, said in a phone
interview with The Daily. “I was booking shows
regularly for a couple years, sort of as a one-off
thing where I would help out a friend or someone
would message me and say that they could return
the favor of booking my band.”
“But since graduating college, and working and
being more quote unquote adult, I felt like I could
make this all a bit more organized than the way I
was doing it. And then, about a year ago, in the spur
of the moment, I just decided to make a Facebook
page and come up with a name that I can use as a
banner to promote shows.”
From there, Ray recruited some friends and
started Outta This World Booking, with the
mission of helping out the local music community.
For many groups without a manager or a record

label, touring can be a daunting task.
He added,“It’s hard to be like, ‘I just started this
band. I want to play a show in New York. I don’t
know anyone in New York … how the hell do I do
that?’ And most of the time, you just have to take a
couple shots in the dark.”
But Ray hopes to make this process easier for
bands traveling through Southeastern Michigan.
“Touring is always hit or miss — sometimes it’s

a Tuesday night and there’s like, ten people there,”
Ray said. “The difference I try to make is that
when these bands come through, I want to make
sure they feel welcome, and that they’re getting a
worthwhile experience.”
Since its founding, Outta This World has
expanded into a team of eight or nine individuals,
taking more of a do-it-together approach.
“I don’t really think of it as mine anymore,” Ray
said. “I have a team of wonderful people that …

more than pull their weight.”
Ray said that in the future, they’re hoping to
expand their base with more like-minded and
passionate people, and bring more consistency to
their shows.
The group is also trying to branch out with new
events and festivals.
“We’re also trying to do some more cool
projects,” Ray told me. “We recently did a new
event called New Year, New Music, where we had
a bunch of artists submit demos to us, and then
we picked the top ten of these artists to perform
at the Loving Touch. We recorded all of these
performances, and will be releasing them later on
this year.”
Setting up a show can be pretty chaotic. The
process consists of “a lot of frantic messaging,”
according to Ray. Bands constantly reach out to
the group in an effort to find a show in the area.
After checking out their music, Ray said the group
will also make sure that the band doesn’t have any
history of unfriendly behavior.
“A big part of DIY is the ethical and moral
beliefs that are inherent to this community,” Ray
said. “We don’t really think that bands with drastic
differences in those areas would fit very well in our
community.”
Once the booking group has a band they’re
excited about, they need to find a venue and local
support for the band. Since a good chunk of the
members on the team have played frequently at
venues in the area, the group is at the point now
where they can find a venue or house show contact
point quickly in order to get the show set up. The
next step is reaching out to artists to play along

with the touring band.
“Something that I, and I think every booker
could be better at is … when you’re setting up a bill,
making sure that it’s not just an all-white-dude
show, you know?” Ray said. “We want to make
sure we’re giving a voice to the more marginalized
communities.”
From there, the group is responsible for
promoting the show with fliers and Facebook
events and making sure the show runs smoothly
the day of.
Since being exposed to DIY in southeastern
Michigan almost four years ago (at a show Ray was
playing, no less), I’ve really been fortunate enough
to see it grow as much as it has because of people
that care as much as Ray does.
“It’s really just a very inspiring community,”
Ray told me. “I’ve become friends with people all
throughout the country because of this community.
And it’s awesome.”

Upcoming DIY Shows:

Harvey Waters
Dearly Somber
Labour Day Weekend
Dogsneeze
at Buttom & Bella’s Music Box in Ypsilanti on Feb. 22

Deau Eyes
Jackamo
Craig Garwood
at PJ’s Lager House in Detroit on Mar. 1

RYAN COX
Daily DIY Columnist

TATE LAFRENIER
Daily Arts Writer

DAILY DIY COLUMN

I wasn’t sure what these
women saw in one another,
or what they got out of their
relationship. It’s hard to care
about about them without
knowing what’s at stake.

Love is a spectrum, and
queer cinema should reflect
that.

“Darling Rose

Gold”

Stephanie Wrobel

Berkley

March 17, 2020

It’s hard to be like, ‘I just
started this band. I want to
play a show in New York. I
don’t know anyone in New
York ... how the hell do I do
that?’

Back to Top

© 2024 Regents of the University of Michigan