Trust contains four narratives that inform the reader’s view of the lives led by Andrew and Mildred Bevel. These narratives are a roman a clef about the Bevels, Andrew’s unfinished biography, the biography’s ghostwriter reflecting on her experiences writing the biography, and Mildred’s journal. These narratives are distinctive because they each explore - either implicitly or explicitly - the ethical dimensions of women being deprived of their personhood and autonomy.
Within Bonds, Helen is - from a young age - manipulated by others. Her father uses her schooling as a way to fill emotional and intellectual voids in his life (Diaz 28). It should also be noted how Mr. Brevoort’s obsessions render him unable to contribute to the family’s finances (Diaz 28). He is consumed so much by fictional demons that he creates real ones for his wife and his daughter. Mrs. Brevoort is forced to manage every element of the family’s affairs with no help. Naturally, Helen shoulders this burden alongside her. In attempting to secure social status, Mrs. Brevoort uses Helen’s language skills as a party trick (Diaz 39). Amidst this situation, Helen is tacitly taught to minimize her emotions. “... it was this dampened version of herself that her parents preferred - her father followed her uninspired work with great pleasure; her mother found her more approachable,” (Diaz 30).
Bevel’s key achievement regarding Mildred in My Life is painting their marriage as impeccably happy, free of conflict (Diaz 157). He portrays his wife as unfailingly kind, gentle, and gracious (Diaz 160). His description of Mildred’s love of music is - like most references to her - brief, vague, and only emphasizes her supposedly docile nature (Diaz 160). The ethics of these choices are explicitly explored in A Memoir, Remembered.
Ida explains that Andrew’s stated motivation in writing My Life is to dispel the myths that had become popular about Mildred in the wake of Bonds’ publication (Diaz 258). However, Ida also reveals how the limited depth given to Mildred in My Life was entirely intentional. Andrew refuses to provide meaningful information about Mildred’s personality, even dismissing her love of music as irrelevant (Diaz 278). Andrew reduces Mildred to this statement: “... she was a simple creature. And sensitive,” (Diaz 278). Through the course of Ida’s collaboration with Andrew, one theme emerges: Andrew was not angry because his wife’s legacy was tarnished by Bonds; he was angry because he did not get to control her legacy, her narrative (Diaz 300). He was angry because he did not get to turn her into something she was not (Diaz 300).
The discovery and inclusion of Mildred’s journal represents both Trust and Ida’s attempt to at last restore Mildred’s autonomy. Even so, the journal is - by its very nature - a fragmented, deeply inadequate portrait of Mildred. Its discovery and inclusion is derived from Ida’s insistence that she knows Mildred even though she does not and never can (Diaz 357). In this sense, Mildred’s journal is Trust’s most visceral, pivotal symbol surrounding the ethics of why and how someone’s story is told.