Omega Farm by Martha McPhee

Several things drew my attention to this book. Set during the pandemic? Check. Mother with dementia? Check. (Although my dad is the one with dementia in my reality.) Rural setting? Memoir about an interesting, yet abusive childhood? Yes and yes. I’ll read this book. Omega Farm made its way to the top of my reading list.

At the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic in 2020, Martha McPhee and her family, consisting of her husband, daughter, and son, wound up retreating to the rural property in New Jersey where she grew up. Her mother, who suffered from dementia, still lived there with a paid caretaker. On top of helping with her mother, McPhee also put herself in charge of dealing with the forest around the property, dredging up old memories, some of them unpleasant, at the same time.

My Thoughts on Omega Farm

I’ll be honest. I wanted to like this book but didn’t. It’s written in a stream of consciousness fashion, jumping from the present to the past with very little segue. The main character in the memoir isn’t even a human: it’s the farm. McPhee gives away very few details about herself, her family, and even the woman and son team that they’d hired to take care of her mother.

While the details about the property are interesting, any information about McPhee’s past (having witnessed/been subjected to sexual and physical abuse by her stepfather) which you’d think you would be more plentiful in a reminiscing book such as this, as minimal. In several instances, she brought up abuse suffered by her sisters, then quickly followed that with “but that’s not my story to tell.” Why bring it up then?

Overall, I expected better from an English professor with several novels under her belt. This book is a true example of the issues that come about when you choose to ignore “show, not tell.” There’s a lot of telling, but very little showing.

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