Scars in The Splinter

The story opens on the subject of a scar and an embedded splinter that has not worked itself out of the skin, although many years have passed.

Scars play a symbolic role in The Splinter. Each of the characters has them, although some are more hidden than others and they are all self-inflicted to a greater or lesser extent. Even Dolores' mother Eugenia is scared by, as the priest notes, hard labour, grief and dental problems. The priest, Father Steven also has an internal scar - a limp from an old sports injury. These scars are self-inflicted but not as intentionally made as the scars of the others.

Jacob has needle mark scars from habitual heroin use. Simon has intentionally scarred both his face:

"The skin on his face was seamed with scars. A pair running parallel lines from just below his eyes to his chin, two on either side of his forehead, and a thatched pattern of smaller scars that ribbed his face on both sides from his cheekbones to his jawline. Worst of all was that his lower lip was cleft cleanly down the middle. When he smiled, the gap made by the cut widened to show a row of even, white teeth."

And on his chest:

"Whorls and lines, puncture marks, words and raised symbols. Instantly and without thinking, she reached out a hand and touched one of the ridged scars with her fingertip. It followed the strange terrain of his skin down and over to just where his heart sat, beating hard beneath the surface."

And of course Dolores has scars on her knees:

"the web of white scars that criss-crossed her knees, and then covered them with her hands, feeling awkward."

And on her back:

"Sitting up made her wince. The blood had dried on her back, and the robe had stuck, in places, to the wounds. She pulled the coverlet off the bed and wrapped it around her. The least painful way to deal with her problem was to stand in the shower and get everything really wet. She'd been in this predicament before."

For each of the characters, their scars have meaning to them, although Eugenia's aged face is the most natural of all.

To Father Steven, his injured hip reminds him of a time before his life had narrowed down to what it had become as a priest, "when his world had been a diorama of possibilities".

Jacob's scars are also a memory of his past, but are also a constant reminder of where he could so easily end up in the future if he cannot successfully fight his addiction.

Simon's scars are not only the story of his past, but the disfigurement he must bear into the future. They are the maps of his travels into the battleground between faith and nature. He has cut himself for every time he lost a battle against the calls of the flesh and the number of them leads the reader, I hope, to believe that there have been many of them. The more dramatic he felt the transgression was, the more flamboyant the cut and the more obvious the scar. The ritualized and patterned nature of the scarring suggests that he translated each of his sins into a unique pictograph, to be worn on the skin as a brand, like Cain.

Once Dolores sees the scars on his chest, she interprets them mystically. Aware of what it cost him to make them and the kind of internal changes that such religious self-harm would trigger, she believes them to be proof of his godliness, a diary of his religious experiences. Seeing them, and "reading" them the way she does, allows her to believe that she can trust him. What she does not really understand is that his are actually the product of penance, whereas hers are the by-products of her journeys into ecstatic states that have very little to do with penance, and more to do with a yearning for union.

Dolores' scars are, as with the others, souvenir of her past - in this case, her mortifications. The recent scars on her back are also mystical - almost like eyes in the back of her head. She believes she can sense things through them that are sub-rosa. Although they cause her pain - which she acknowledges - she has certain affection for them. They are the reminder of her pilgrim's progress.

The only scar which is not self-inflicted, and which happens accidentally, is the cross that breaks beneath her chest and embeds the splinter into her skin.

550 words (5,186 and counting)