Response to Patchwork Girl

On "birthing": There is an ever-present idea that something, or rather someone, is being created (over and over again). In the broadest sense, “birthing” relates to the concept of hypertext fiction itself; that is, giving birth to a story through a web of writing space. However, in Patchwork Girl, we are told that the title character's "birth takes place more than once.... Or it took place not at all" (Jackson “birth”). The story recollects various memories, belonging to the Modern Monster herself, her body parts’ previous owners, snippets from other novels etc. But is this really "birthing"? Arguably so, but perhaps "resurrecting" might even be a more accurate term.

The ugly and grotesque: The masculine grotesqueness of Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein monster and Jackson’s “ugly” patchwork doll both receive public disdain and lack any chance at a life “normalcy” because they are monsters: “multiple…mixed, mestizo, mongrel” (Jackson “why hideous?”). Yet, unlike her male counterpart, the patchwork doll finds something empowering, something beautiful in her “ugliness.” She accepts her state as is, and tries to forge herself a place in the world. A realized beauty comes from the Patchwork Girl’s attempt to break free from standard conventions, to contradict the shortcomings fallen to her, to blur the line between beginning and end. Shelly’s monster eventually returns to his creator, but the Patchwork Girl defiantly says to hers, “I shall be no more than a heap of letters, sender unknown, when I return” (Jackson “mementos”).

Words and bodies: In Jackson's story, there is a parallel between stringing words together and stitching up bodies. Words and bodies are synonymous. The tasks of writing (and reading) a story and patching someone up both require continual attempts at injecting something with coherence, with meaning and with life. Her hypertext novel, like the Patchwork Girl character, needs to be "operated" on constantly to "stay alive." Readers pull apart and put back together words in the electronic space; with the Patchwork Girl, it is she who is pulled apart and put back together.

Word play, seem for seam: Jackson incorporates a play on words, emphasizing the supposed way a story seems to be told, and the actual stitched seams one would see on a piece of patchwork. A story can unravel, it can tie up loose ends; a quilt or a doll can do the same. In the Quilt section of Patchwork Girl, we read of how the title character came to be. But upon closer inspection, the footnotes provided show that the text on each page actually belongs to handful of sources; that in fact, all “the charm you need is a needle and thread” (Baum 153, in Jackson “seam’d”) to create interesting compositions, textually and otherwise.

Demon of multiplicity/Built without dignity: The Patchwork Girl is a character of many guises. Her implied physical condition(s) reflects the internal efforts she must make towards self-realization. She is constantly being reworked; organs are stolen/borrowed and lost; similarly, her attempts to tell her story follow suit. The Patchwork Girl shares the tales of her multiple donors; she embodies the imaginations of her author(s)/readers (Jackson, Shelly, you and me etc.). The Modern Monster is built without dignity; she will be subject to frequent repair and under constant ridicule. Is she made in such a way to avoid haughty inclinations, to test her mettle, or simply to see if she’s fit to live? Does her mismatched state attempt to teach humility and to treasure the generosity of others? Perhaps she will take her misgivings as blessings in disguise. The Patchwork Girl declares, "I'm just what I am, and nothing else" (Baum 43, in Jackson “but I’m glad”).