Call me a devil’s advocate, a killjoy, or an literary ignoramus, but I must admit that I do not find Orange is the New Black as well-written, deep, or as fascinating as others on this blog seem to find it. Do not be mistaken: I do believe this memoir is worth reading and powerful; however, I had hoped to hear more about the institutional oppression jail presents to women as well as more personal growth in Kerman at the termination of the memoir.
Firstly, while the work lacked organization, it swam with characters—too many characters to track. Before you could often understand or appreciate a character, Kerman focused on
another, and seemed to be no chronological order to the memoir. I suppose I simply prefer a little more structure. Secondly, for someone who undergoes such an emotionally, mentally and at times physically strenuous time, Kerman certainly does not leave with any amazingly complex or deep revelations (“What I discovered was that I am emphatically not alone.”). The last few pages were more of a reflection upon how Kerman recognized the need for others (dropped the “I am an island fortress method of dealing”) and her affection for the women in Danbury instead of the horrors of the American prison system or national drug issue. This made me wonder: Did Kerman regret pushing people away more than drug-trafficking? The memoir was a tad shallow, and I craved more significant, if you will, epiphanies. Thirdly, this memoir was neat in the sense that it was not too messy or gritty when it came to conflict. Even the moral ambiguity regarding Nora that Kerman experienced at the end of the memoir—“Regardless of whether she was honest to me, I wanted to forgive her…If I could forgive, it meant I was a strong, good person…”—was short-lived and cursory. Lastly, though I would have liked to see Kerman address the calls to action for the things prison does not do for the society, this is a memoir, and therefore never promises any of those conclusions.
Nonetheless, I refuse to end this brief blog post on a negative note. The true power of this
book, the part that struck me the most, is the fact that it made me step into the shoes of a
female in a prison and feel, no matter how superficially, how we as a society punish lawbreaking.
Though Kerman is a class apart from most of the women at Danbury (she consistently makes comparisons for the reader, with her books, education, and visitors), Kerman’s psychological journey most definitely made me never want to enter the prison system. And truthfully, because it is a memoir, it allows the reader to make his/her own connections and conclusions. Kerman told her story. It is the reader’s responsibility to reflect.