Family Trauma and Memory in In Ascension

The Thematic Claim

In In Ascension, Martin MacInnes proposes that family trauma is never fully resolved—it is instead re-enacted, suppressed, and transformed into a consuming drive to vanish into the unknown. Memory becomes a contested battlefield where truth is fragmented between survivors, each version serving a different emotional need. Leigh’s childhood abuse by her father Geert and her mother Fenna’s retreat into mathematics create a wound that she cannot heal, only flee. Yet the novel complicates any simple victim narrative: Leigh’s sister Helena remembers differently, and Leigh herself repeats her father’s violent unpredictability. The only escape, the story suggests, is not forgetting but a symbiosis—a merging with something vast enough to dissolve the self.

Tracing the Theme Across Three Plot Segments

Childhood: The Origin of the Wound

In Chapter 1 (Endeavour), Leigh recalls growing up in Rotterdam, a city literally below sea level—a metaphor for the submerged trauma of her home. Her father Geert, a hydraulic engineer, beats her with “astonishing” vigour, lifting her by the collar and throwing her against walls. These attacks happen only when her mother Fenna is at work. Fenna retreats into mathematics, “a purer world of symbols,” and suffers migraines that enforce silence. Leigh feels abandoned by her mother, yet later understands that Fenna’s nightly nursing was her way of “retrieving” her. The trauma is not just physical but systemic: Geert’s own fear of water and his father’s disapproval create a cycle of violence. Leigh never confronts her parents; instead, she internalises the lesson that safety lies in escape—first into the ocean (her near‑drowning vision), then into outer space.

Adulthood: The Drive to Escape and the Repetition of Patterns

In Chapter 2 (Datura) and Chapter 3 (Kourou), Leigh’s adult choices mirror her childhood coping mechanisms. She prioritises her career at ICORS over visiting her declining mother, creating conflict with her sister Helena. When recruited for the deep‑space mission, she undergoes brutal simulations and psychological evaluations. In a therapy session (Chapter 3), Leigh admits she was “assaulted as a child” by her father and that no one intervened. She refuses to explore the feelings, insisting it “doesn’t strike me as a good use of our time.” This suppression fuels her determination to leave Earth entirely. Yet she also exhibits traits inherited from Geert: a need for control (obsessive preparation), emotional withdrawal, and a fear of the formless future. When Tyler fears death on Nereus, Leigh comforts him with a vision of symbiosis—a merger with the cosmos that echoes the dissolution she craves.

Helena’s Perspective: Contested Memory and the Burden of the Past

Chapter 5 (Ascension) offers a devastating counterpoint. Helena, searching for traces of her lost sister, reflects that Leigh “always quietly insisted on playing the victim” and manipulated others with her melancholy. Helena remembers their father as merely “harsh and uncommunicative”—slaps that were “just what fathers did back then.” She does not recall the extended beatings Leigh describes. This discrepancy is crucial: the same childhood produced two radically different memories. Helena also recalls a moment when Leigh lifted her by the collar and held her over a railing—a direct replication of Geert’s violence. Leigh’s face showed “the thrill of power.” The trauma was not only suffered but passed on, even if only once. Helena’s journey to Ascension Island, where she finds Leigh’s cottage filled with marine microbiology books, becomes an act of honouring the lost person without romanticising her. She concludes that her sister’s “mythology of the past” freed her from family responsibilities—but also trapped her in isolation.

Character Connections

Leigh: The protagonist whose childhood abuse shapes her adult relationships and her desire to leave Earth. She is both victim and perpetrator of violence, drawn to the ocean and to space as sites of escape and possible rebirth.
Geert: The abusive father, himself a product of a demanding father and a job that constantly fights water. His unpredictability is both a source of terror and of his wife’s early love.
Fenna: The mother who retreats into mathematics, offering silent care but refusing to intervene. Her migraines symbolise the physical cost of complicity.
Helena: The younger sister who remembers a different, less traumatic childhood. She becomes the keeper of Leigh’s story after her disappearance, forced to hold both love and resentment.

Symbol Connections

Deep‑sea vent: Represents the hidden, primordial source of life and also the unknown depths of trauma. Leigh’s first dive mirrors her childhood near‑drowning; both involve an encounter with something overwhelming.
Algae: A micro‑organism that grows uncontrollably on Nereus, symbolising memory that cannot be contained. Leigh cultivates it for the mission; her “cautious recording” suggests an attempt to manage an unruly past.
Datura object: The artificial interstellar artifact whose markings are carved but unreadable. It stands for the traumatic experience that cannot be interpreted—only witnessed and carried forward.
Green turtles nesting: In Chapter 5, Helena sees turtles laying eggs on Ascension beach—an image of return, reproduction, and instinctual persistence. It offers a counterpoint to Leigh’s escape: staying, nesting, continuing the cycle.

Complexity and Contradiction

The novel refuses a simple moral: Leigh is not a pure victim. She inherits her father’s volatility, as the incident with Helena shows. Her insistence on her own suffering alienates her sister and family. Yet Helena’s memory may also be unreliable—a protective amnesia that minimises Geert’s violence. The novel suggests that memory is not a record but a story we tell to survive. The theme of memory itself is embodied in the fragmented narrative: Leigh’s first‑person account in Chapter 1, Helena’s third‑person in Chapter 5, and the cold transcripts of therapy. No single version is authoritative. In the end, Leigh dives into a fully submerged Earth, merging with the ocean—a dissolution that may be death, transcendence, or the final erasure of a self too shaped by pain.

Study Questions and Answers

How does the novel use the environment of Rotterdam (below sea level) to mirror Leigh’s psychological state? The constant threat of flooding parallels the repressed trauma that could engulf Leigh at any moment. Living below sea level requires constant engineering to hold back water—just as Leigh must continuously work to keep her memories at bay. The father’s job with the water board literalises this struggle.
Why does Helena remember a different, less violent childhood than Leigh? Helena was three years younger and “spared the worst” of the beatings. She also may have developed a protective psychological distance, either because she was not targeted or because facing the truth would force her to confront her own complicity in the family silence. Her version allows her to maintain a functional relationship with the past.
In what way does Leigh repeat her father’s behaviour? Leigh lifts Helena by the collar and holds her over a drop—a direct echo of Geert lifting Leigh. Helena’s memory of this incident shows that trauma can be transmitted across generations, even temporarily. Leigh’s expression of “thrill” reveals a frightening inheritance.
What role does Fenna’s retreat into mathematics play in the theme of memory? Mathematics offers a timeless, symbol‑based world where emotions and memories are irrelevant. Fenna’s escape models for Leigh a way to flee into abstraction—later literalised in Leigh’s journey into the abstract void of space. It also represents a failure to witness and respond to abuse.
How does the symbol of the green turtles complicate the theme of family trauma? The turtles lay eggs on the same beach generation after generation, instinctually returning. This offers an image of continuity and belonging that contrasts with Leigh’s drive to escape. Helena’s witness to this cycle suggests a possible reconciliation with one’s origins—a path Leigh never took.