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Book Review: Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado

Her Body and Other Parties: Stories by Carmen Maria Machado

Graywolf Press, 2017

ISBN-13: 978-1555977887

Available: Hardcover, paperback, Kindle edition, audiobook, audio CD

 

Carmen Maria Machado centers women, and especially their bodies, in this genre-bending collection of stories. Her story “The Husband Stitch”, which appears in this book, has been generating buzz (and admiration) for years. Now that I’ve read it, I can say that it deserves the attention. Framed around the urban legend “The Green Velvet Ribbon”, anyone who knows that story will predict the ending, but, narrated by the woman in the story, there is so much more inside. “Inventory” starts out as a list of one woman’s sexual experiences, but against a background story of a spreading pandemic, it starts to take on a feeling of dread and inevitability.  “Mothers” is a hallucinatory story with an unreliable narrator that involves a fragmented relationship between two women that may also involve a baby. “Especially Heinous” recounts surreal, fictional summaries of episodes from 12 seasons of Law and Order: SVU. This particular story, even with supernatural elements, doppelgangers, and interpersonal drama, was far too long. I feel like in “Mothers” and “Especially Heinous”, Machado was experimenting with style, and maybe this worked for some readers, but not for me. “Difficult at Parties”  about the effects of trauma and rape on the body, mind and intimate relationships, is very different from the other stories, which have a slightly surreal or fantastic feel to them. Other stories include “The Resident”, “Eight Bites”(this gets into eating disorders), and “Real Women Have Bodies”.

One thing I really loved about this book was the way Machado writes about sex. Her characters aren’t passive. They enjoy sex, sometimes paired with love and sometimes casual, both with men and women. It’s so refreshing to find this! She does a skillful and fluid job of describing sex and passion. Her writing is unapologetically feminist and queer, but her way with words is lyrical and it all flows into the story. I kind of want her to write about the early days of Mary Shelley’s love affair with Percy Shelley after reading this!

Her Body and Other Stories is an uneven collection: it has a few outstanding stories, a couple of reasonably good ones, and some I don’t feel the need to revisit. Machado does a good job at creating a sense of the uneasiness and dread that come from, and are felt by, women’s bodies, and it’s a collection well worth visiting. I’m adding “The Husband Stitch” to my list of “favorite short stories”, and this is the perfect time of year to read it. Recommended.

 

Contains: sex, violence, descriptions of pornography, references to rape, domestic violence, eating disorders

Posted on September 6, 2019 by , Reply

Book Review: What Should Be Wild by Julia Fine

What Should Be Wild by Julia Fine

Harper, 2018

ISBN-13: 978-0062684134

Available: Hardcover, paperback, Kindle edition, audiobook, audio CD

 

What Should Be Wild is a flawed, if gorgeously written dark fairytale. Julia Fine has outdone herself in establishing a disturbing, unwieldy, and wild Gothic setting for her story of  Maisie, a girl born with the power of life and death in her touch. The women of the Blakely family are believed to be under a curse: many of them have terrible stories that led them into the dark wood behind the family home, Urizon, never to be seen again. The story alternates between the present day, with Maisie narrating, and third-person narratives about the other Blakely women who disappeared, who are now trapped in a timeless dimension in the wood where things are just starting to change.

Not without reason, Maisie has been kept in isolation from the rest of the world by her anthropologist father and the family housekeeper. Unable to touch without killing, she is starved for affection, and has to work to suppress her urges to touch the things and people around her, following rules strictly enforced by her father. Her solace is in stories, especially local history and customs, folklore, and fairytales. These stories, and the structure imposed on her by her father, are the only patterns she has for connecting to the world around her– in short, she is naive, sheltered, and unable to imagine people who don’t follow the patterns of the narratives she knows.  When she discovers the family housekeeper’s death and runs away to process it, she discovers on her return that her father has disappeared to search for her. Matthew, the housekeeper’s nephew, steps in to accompany her when she decides to search for him. They then encounter Rafe, who claims to be a colleague of her father’s also looking for him– that both he and her father have been searching for a way to enter the wild wood where the Blakely women are trapped. Up to the point that Maisie encounters Rafe, her first-person narration is really interesting. It gets us inside her head, as an unusual child with perceptions that are far different than the norm. At that point, Maisie’s naivete becomes more and more frustrating, as it becomes quickly obvious what the characters’ motivations are, and they become pretty one-dimensional for most of the journey.

When the search takes the three of them to the city, both men disappear from the picture, and Maisie is left in a horrific situation. She is drugged and trapped, without means of escape, while a man drains her of blood for a mysterious purpose, and after several weeks he realizes that her power can be used to his financial benefit, as when she “kills” an animal, it enters stasis rather than decaying. The terrifying months of being drained and having angry animals released into the room she’s locked in are horrific to read about and jarring compared to the rest of the book, but Maisie’s lack of agency and desperation, and her connection to the wood behind Urizon, start to affect the actions and events occurring among the Blakely women and the growth of the wood.

The stories of each of the Blakely women trapped in the wood, written in third person, are interspersed throughout Maisie’s story. This helps make them a little more real: otherwise they are really just a group of bodies and names. Each woman or girl in the wood in some way fell outside the narrative of conventional womanhood: too ill, too unattractive, too stubborn, too disobedient, too old, too foreign, too promiscuous. Yet, falling outside the narrative of conventional womanhood doesn’t mean they don’t have their own stories, although the stories have become more of tales cautioning people against entering the wood, than local history connected to any particular name. Maisie, too, has her own story connected to the woods, and it starts out much like a quest narrative– but the actual ending doesn’t require the kind of challenge I had expected and is rather anticlimactic.

I had some frustrations with the way characters were portrayed in this book. With its strong connection to a fairy-tale style of writing, I wasn’t expecting all fully developed characters, especially in the woods and the stories of the Blakely women, since most fairy tale characters are stand-ins for archetypes. But this is a novel, not a fairytale, and a little more depth and consistency with the characters of Matthew, Rafe, and Peter would have been appreciated. The book also had some confusing moments and left many unanswered questions. For instance, Maisie’s dog and her relationship with him was very odd, and the overprotective Matthew suddenly leaving Maisie when he knew she was vulnerable was surprising. The actions of the unknown girl in the forest were baffling.

This book has been described as a feminist fairytale, and it certainly does hit you over the head with its repeated focus on women’s lack of agency and the way they have been forced to suppress their desires in favor of fitting a pre-existing narrative of femininity. That is a strong and important message. But I really felt the lack of any  fully (or even mostly) supportive male characters was a disservice. Every single man in this book was trying to control some woman’s body or actions, if not physically, than by patronizing, threatening, or manipulating them. This was true even for Matthew, who was the most sympathetic male character. Given the treatment of all the women in this book, the curse of the Blakely women appears to be not that they were so desperate to escape the men victimizing them that they’d rather spend eternity in the wood but that hundreds of years later, while women might have evolved, men’s treatment of them pretty much hadn’t changed at all. While the fairytale here appears to have a happy ending for Maisie, the story of the women in the wood, and the world, is ongoing.

Despite any issues I have with it, this is an unusual, compelling, and memorable story, with lush and beautiful writing. It doesn’t move quickly, but you will find yourself lost inside Fine’s dark, wild, wood, and in her tale, if you care to enter. Highly recommended.

 

Contains: body horror, cannibalism, animal cruelty, murder, torture.

Reviewed by Kirsten Kowalewski

 

Editor’s note: What Should Be Wild is a nominee on the final ballot for the 2018 Bram Stoker Awards. 

Posted on May 10, 2019 by , Reply

Book Review: Dread Nation by Justina Ireland

Dread Nation by Justina Ireland

Balzer + Bray, 2018

ISBN-13: 978-0062570604

Available: Hardcover, paperback, Kindle edition, audiobook, MP3 CD

 

 

Editor’s note: Due to its topic and content, Dread Nation contains racial slurs and outdated language. I’m using “Negro” in this review as it is the term used throughout the book.

 

In this alternate history, the Civil War ended after the dead rose at Gettysburg, forcing the Union and the Confederacy into a truce while they fought off cannibalistic “shamblers.” A law passed shortly after required all Negro and Native children, starting at age 12, to be trained to fight the shamblers in single-sex combat schools, for the protection of white Americans (Ireland writes in an author’s note that she got the idea for the schools after reading about the Carlisle Indian Industrial School, a boarding school intended to erase Native American culture and language and assimilate the children). Just as before the war, there are opposing movements regarding the treatment of Negroes: the Egalitarians, who believe they should be treated equally, and the Survivalists, who believe they are naturally inferior to white people.

Sixteen-year-old Jane McKeene, the biracial, dark-skinned daughter of a white woman married to an absent Kentucky plantation owner, has been training at an exclusive combat school that trains girls as Attendants, bodyguard companions for wealthy white women and girls who are trained not just in combat but in social skills and etiquette. Intelligent and talented in combat, Jane is rebellious when it comes to conforming to society’s demands and has more interest in helping others survive than in good manners, good looks, and appropriate conduct. Her frenemy, Kate, is not only talented in combat but attractive, well-dressed, well-mannered, and light-skinned enough to pass for white– enough to earn Jane’s enmity– and stubborn enough to eventually earn her respect. Jane’s insistent ex, Jackson, comes to her in secret to ask for help in discovering what happened to his younger sister, Lily, who lives with the Spencers, a prosperous white farming family of Egalitarians, passing for white. The family has disappeared, and he’s afraid they’ve been taken by shamblers. Jane, Kate, and Jackson sneak out to the family’s farm to discover that the family has disappeared, and that the mayor, a Survivalist, is covering it up.

In the meantime, Jane and Kate save the lives of the attendees of a lecture about a vaccine to inoculate people from becoming shamblers when bitten, including the mayor’s wife, and are invited to attend a dinner party at his house. They use the opportunity to sneak Jackson in so he can search for evidence about the mayor’s involvement with the disappearance of his sister and the Spencer family. but are caught and sent to a remote Survivalist utopian communty, Summerland, where white people live in relative luxury, protected from shamblers by cruelly treated and poorly armed Negroes. Jane is able to convince the authority figures of Summerland that Kate is actually white, saving her from the deadly labor of protecting Summerland from shamblers, and giving her a set of opportunities and problems that come along with attempting to pass as an attractive white girl in a community built on unabashed white supremacy.

I suppose what technically qualifies Dread Nation as a horror novel are the “shamblers,” who, while we aren’t certain by the end of the book, are probably carriers of an infectious plague that turns them into mindless, uncoordinated, cannibals with an endless urge to feed. But the zombies merely illuminate the true horrors that take place in the book, those grounded in arrogance and vicious white supremacy. The sheriff and the preacher are truly cruel men who use every opportunity to punish the Negro characters and establish their superiority, but even the overseers are casually brutal, and the white townspeople are willfully blind. Even before the girls are sent to Summerland, it turns out that characters who are supposed to care for them are absolutely horrible under their genteel surfaces. Every time Jane attempts to save lives by stepping in between another person and a shambler, she is punished for overstepping her place.  Ireland demonstrates that even sympathetic white characters are complicit in the preservation of what they know is an unfair and cruel system.  Mr. Gideon, a white scientist and engineer who wanted to provide electricity to frontier communities using natural resources, is an ally in many ways, but is trapped in Summerland, forced to use shamblers’ “manpower” to run the town’s generator, which preserves the image that all is going as it should and perpetuates the racist system the town is built on.  Jane and Kate are both aware of how they can use negative stereotypes to manipulate white characters, and Kate is very conscious of how she can use her “whiteness” to her advantage, as well as how vulnerable she is.

In this #OwnVoices novel, Ireland portrays shifting vulnerabilities and loyalties as marginalized individuals attempt to navigate the racist system they are forced to function within are evident here in a way they might not have been if a different person had written this book. The Lenape character Daniel Redfern is somewhat of a mystery. One might think he and Jane would be natural allies, but while he saves her life early in the book, he is also responsible for her getting caught and sent to Summerland. Jane’s relationship with her mother, told in flashbacks and in bits and pieces, ends up putting a surprising light on what you think her story actually is. Jane’s relationships with both her mother and Kate contribute to a nuanced portrait of the damage, as well as the advantage, of colorism and “passing.” The other Negroes Jane works with in Summerland are more than a mass of victims– Ireland gives those that Jane interacts with names and personalities, and their agendas and fears sometimes set them against each other. The way the difficulty of being female intersects with the difficulty of surviving as a Negro is amply illustrated, not just through one set of eyes but through the experiences and stories Jane shares with many of the other characters. In addition to race and gender, while it isn’t an emphasis of the story, Jane expresses interest in both women and men, and Kate is pretty solid that she has no interest in romance or a relationship with either sex. As this is the first book in a series, it will be interesting to see how (or if) Ireland develops that further.

Dread Nation is a great read as a YA horror novel, and if that’s all you want from it, you can certainly read it that way. But it’s also a really intelligent, well-plotted book with great characters that has the ability to appeal to a widespread audience (including people who do not traditionally read either YA literature or horror) due to its nuanced exploration of race and white supremacy, character development, world building, approach to the past, relevance to the present, and its just generally fantastic writing. I have sold so many people on trying this book who would never in a million years have picked up a straight zombie novel. It’s not short, so I don’t know that reluctant readers will jump on it, but for the YA reader who likes independent-minded female protagonists, alternate histories, doesn’t mind a little gore, and can handle the racial slurs, this is an outstanding choice that more than deserves its place on the final ballot for the 2018 Stoker Award. Highly, highly recommended.

Contains: Gore, violence, murder, torture, slavery, racial slurs, references to sexual violence.

Reviewed by Kirsten Kowalewski

 

Editor’s note: Dread Nation is on the final ballot of the 2018 Stoker Awards in the category of Superior Achievement in a Young Adult Novel. 

 

 

Posted on April 25, 2019 by , Reply
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