“Her amaba didn’t want to believe that things Yetu spoke about were true. If they were, what would it say about her as a parent to have consented to her becoming a vessel of such ugliness?” (Solomon 99-100).

I chose to close read this line from The Deep by River Solomon, this line not only reveals the emotional distance between Yetu and her amaba but also the way denial is used as a protective force within communities that have been shaped by trauma. The phrasing, “didn’t want to believe,” suggests that disbelief is not rooted in evidence but in a psychological necessity. Solomon uses the refusal less as ignorance and more as a coping mechanism–one that lets her maintain faith in cultural traditions that demand individual sacrifice.

The metaphor “a vessel of such ugliness” encapsulates the heart of the conflict. “Vessel” implies containment, something hollowed out so it can carry something else..For Yetu, becoming the Historian means being emptied of her own interiority so that she can house ancestral memories. But the keyword is “ugliness.” Unlike other descriptions of History–which can feel sacred, monumental, or heavy–“ugliness” frames the stored memories as morally contaminating. This isn’t simply a burden; it is defilement. The pain of the past becomes something grotesque, so disturbing that even hearing about it threatens those who remain unexposed.

This reframes her amaba’s denial as a form of self-preservation. To acknowledge the truth of Yetu’s suffering would mean acknowledging her own complicity in handing Yetu over to a role that causes psychological and physical turmoil. The rhetorical question–“what would it say about her as a parent”–reveals that the fear is not of Yetu’s pain, but of the mirror it holds up. The mother’s identity as a good parent depends on maintaining the belief that the system is just, that sacrifice is noble, that the Historian’s role holds dignity rather than destruction.

Solomon complicates this idea of communal survival by suggesting that protecting the collective often requires emotional abandonment of the individual (Yetu). Yetu’s mother is not a villain; she is a product of a culture where survival depends on selective seeing. In this moment, the novel confronts the reader with this painful truth that love can coexist with complicity–and that sometimes, the deepest wounds come from those who believe they are doing what’s best..