Sold Tone

Poignant but Hopeful Intensity

In an interview about Sold, McCormick said that one of the biggest challenges to writing was not to let the sorrow overwhelm her. And while McCormick manages to balance to some degree Lakshmi's despair with the lighter, more hopeful moments of the novel, the sadness of Lakshmi's situation can still be overwhelming for readers at time.

There is poignancy to the novel, a deeply moving and touching tone that affects us more than we think. And because the language is so sparse, the words that McCormick chooses so deliberately convey more intensity than standard prose.

In between, men come. They crush my bones with their weight. They split me open. Then they disappear. I cannot tell which of the things they do to me are real, and which are nightmares. (82.Twilight.7)

Focus on the words used to describe Lakshmi's violation: "crush" and "split" are both violent words. And Lakshmi feels this violence not just on her surface, but in her bones. Finally, the fact that the men don't just leave—they "disappear" instead—implies that she is existing in a hazy world where nothing is what it seems. Which is exactly what is happening, because she is drugged. Check it out:

I inhale deeply, drinking in the scent of mountain sunshine, a warmth that smells of freshly turned soil and clean laundry baking in the sun. I breathe in a cool Himalayan breeze, and the woodsy tang of a cooking fire, a smell that crackles with the promise of warm tea and fresh roti. (84.BetweenTwilights.2)

As Lakshmi is locked in her room waiting for the men, think about the words McCormick uses to describe her longing. Lakshmi focuses on the sunshine of her home, a warmth that isn't just of sun but also of home. More than that, the sun cleanses her—and then we've got other descriptors: "woodsy," "warm," and "fresh." These adjectives imply life and hope and home, ideas that Lakshmi never truly relinquishes throughout her time at the brothel.