A Family Romance

In mythology, in fairy tales, and in psychoanalysis, losing one's sight often indicates that a disaster has occurred, an event so unbearable that it is no longer possible to look at it. Yet in the ongoing scourge that is the Trump administration, Trump cannot bear that we look away from the disaster. Even as he hopes to hide from us what he does not wish us to see, he must always create a spectacle that will turn our gaze toward him. With the spectacle of stealing babies from their mothers at the US–Mexico border, Trump has invoked the power of ancient myth and old tales to focus our attention, showing us how he can break primal bonds. He has tipped his hand, letting us glimpse the workings of his psyche, the deep-rooted misogyny and matricidal wishes that mirror his internal world.

I was canvassing to get out the vote during the recent midterm elections while the cruel policies of family separation played out in the background. A blond woman with hard blue eyes answered her door. Flatly, she warned me that she supported Trump. She was about to close her door when she seemed to change her mind. Turning back to me, she lowered her voice. “Of course,” she said, referring to the children being taken from their parents at the border, “some of the things being done are terrible. But they have to be done.” I was disturbed by what she said, but I was puzzled by the way she lowered her voice. She sounded almost excited, as if the pain of these other mothers gave her satisfaction. It seemed to me that this woman lowered her voice to hide her sadism, though she was not able to help herself from wanting to display it to me, as if it were a kind of triumph.

How had this woman become enlisted in enforcing cruelty toward other women? Somehow she must have understood that a line had already been drawn between women, dividing them into those who would be granted motherhood and those who would not. The spectacle of family separation seemed to put forth a primal dilemma. I was reminded