DANCING WITH THE OCTOPUS

Debora Harding grew up in the Midwest and then spent three decades immersed in Washington politics. While cycling across America she met her English husband. She is mother of two children and is now a full-time writer and activist. She splits her time between the United States and Great Britain

“This book is personal, deeply and bravely thoughtful, and creatively expressed…. It can serve as a tool for the politically engaged.” ―New York Journal of Books

1. The memoir takes place in Nebraska, Iowa, West Virginia, and England, among other locations. What’s the importance of place in Harding’s story? How has geography shaped her life, and how has she made homes, for herself and loved ones, in different settings?

2. Harding’s father (Jim Cackler) is a complex man. What adjectives would you use to describe him? How would you describe his relationship with the protagonist and her sisters?

3. Harding details years of abuse at the hands of her mother (Kathleen Cackler). How did the members of the author’s family cope with this abuse? What adaptations did they develop to shield themselves and comfort others?

4. Harding mentions, in her epilogue, that she wants to “portray ‘victims’ realistically” (372). Before, during, and after the attack, Harding demonstrates remarkable resilience and agency. What does Harding gain from recalling, corroborating, and writing down her experience?

5. Part of Harding’s resilience is her ability to accept the help of others. How does her husband Thomas support her? What tools and advice does Dr. H provide?

6. Discuss the role race plays in the narrative. How does Harding work serious considerations of race into the story of her attack and its aftermath? How does Charles Goodwin understand race to have informed his own experiences?

7. Like Charles (Mr. K), Harding’s mother has had significant challenges in life. How does Kathleen explain away, or justify, her abuse of her children and husband? How does Harding balance empathy for Kathleen with her own traumatic memories of her mother’s violence?

8. What forms of support does Harding find in the Omaha community, in the immediate aftermath of her kidnapping and assault? And whom does she rely on when she returns to Omaha as an adult?

9. How is the “dancing octopus” introduced in the narrative? Whose creation is it? And when Harding sees a real octopus, years later, what does she feel? With whom does she share this second experience?

10. Jim eventually reveals his own traumatic memories to Harding. What are these memories, and how does he tell his story? What are the coping mechanisms and kinds of fellowship––productive and unproductive––Jim turns to as he grows older?

11. How does Kathleen respond to Jim’s death?

12. Who are Harding’s role models? What lessons do they teach her?

13. Describe the book’s narrative structure. Why do you think Harding chose to tell her story this way? What insights does this structure make possible for the reader?

14. On finishing the book, do you feel that justice has been served–-for Harding, her siblings, and others who were harmed? How have characters repaired, or tried to repair, their relationships?

15. Which relationships has Harding let go of or moved on from? And what are some of the new, strong relationships she’s forged as an adult?

Lincoln, 2003

Charles Goodwin had spent twenty-five years in Nebraska state prisons. He appeared to be in his element, not overly anxious. His hands, folded, rested on a thick hardback book whose title was Revelation: A Book of Judgment. Perched on top were a spiral notebook and pen. His looks were pleasant enough, his hair closely shaven. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt, baggy jeans, and neutral-colored sneakers. There was nothing in him of the aggressive body language that was common in this environment. He appeared fit, no doubt from hours spent in the prison gym, but he hadn’t acquired that machismo bodybuilder look.

About fifty prisoners sat or stood around, waiting their turn to appear in front of the parole board. None lacked for company—parents, a wife, friends, a few even had kids to broaden the audience, so the energy of the room had the backstage buzz of a school Christmas pageant.

But my offender, and it would be correct to call him “my”—though every ounce of me recoiled at the idea that he might consider me “his”—sat alone, displaying a casual but respectful patience, wearing a look of friendly approachability, as if he were waiting there just for me in the same way he’d been that afternoon, twenty-five years ago, when our paths happened to cross.

But before I go further, let me explain how we first met.