Beattz
This review does not contain spoilers, but it does contain what some might consider objectionable language.
I ended up reading this book to satisfy a bingo challenge for an awesome book discord I'm part of (Brief Book Respite, come hang out with us). The square was "Recommended by your favorite music artist". I thought, Sure! No problem! I have one of those! So I DM'ed him on instagram, and he told me what he was currently reading and I decided that was good enough to meet the requirements. He was reading Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller, and initially, I was kind of excited. I'd always kind of thought I'd get around to reading some of his or Anais Nin's work, so this was as good a time as any, right? Well, time passed, and I found myself dragging my feet. So now here we are, less than 2 months from the bingo deadline (gimme that prize!) so I snag the audiobook from the library. When I tell you I didn't last 30 minutes (at 1.8 speed, so real time 20).
I must have heard the word cunt repeated 18 times in that timeframe. Each one hit me like a bullet. This man describing these different women, all by the size, flavor, and metaphysical properties of their cunts. At that point, I really no longer cared what the story might actually have been about. So I returned the audiobook to the library, and when I got to work, immediately began to research a replacement bingo book. It took me ages (like 30 minutes) but eventually I found a website (radicalreads.com) that has a bunch of music artists' (and other influential people) favorite books, then I scrolled through until I found someone I could reasonably call a favorite (hey there Phoebe Bridgers) and scrolled through her list until I found one that sounded more appealing than finishing Tropic of Cancer.
Thus, Her Body and Other Parties. This is a collection of short body horror stories, all told from a first person female perspective (if I recall correctly). The first story, The Husband Stitch (and probably all of the stories, really) also used the word cunt a lot. Not as many as Mr. Miller, but more than thrice, and you know what, it didn't bother me one bit. The difference? A woman, writing a woman, about a woman's body. Her domain. Her prerogative. Her power. Her party.
Personal revelations aside, I really enjoyed this book. I've been exploring a lot more this year into horror, specifically body and plant horror, and have seemingly found my sweet spot with short form. So this fits the bill perfectly. The audiobook was good, but I do think it would have been a better experience if read from the page - a couple of the stories almost need that for the full effect. I will definitely be seeing what else Machado has available for future consumption!
This review does not contain spoilers, but it does contain what some might consider objectionable language.
I ended up reading this book to satisfy a bingo challenge for an awesome book discord I'm part of (Brief Book Respite, come hang out with us). The square was "Recommended by your favorite music artist". I thought, Sure! No problem! I have one of those! So I DM'ed him on instagram, and he told me what he was currently reading and I decided that was good enough to meet the requirements. He was reading Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller, and initially, I was kind of excited. I'd always kind of thought I'd get around to reading some of his or Anais Nin's work, so this was as good a time as any, right? Well, time passed, and I found myself dragging my feet. So now here we are, less than 2 months from the bingo deadline (gimme that prize!) so I snag the audiobook from the library. When I tell you I didn't last 30 minutes (at 1.8 speed, so real time 20).
I must have heard the word cunt repeated 18 times in that timeframe. Each one hit me like a bullet. This man describing these different women, all by the size, flavor, and metaphysical properties of their cunts. At that point, I really no longer cared what the story might actually have been about. So I returned the audiobook to the library, and when I got to work, immediately began to research a replacement bingo book. It took me ages (like 30 minutes) but eventually I found a website (radicalreads.com) that has a bunch of music artists' (and other influential people) favorite books, then I scrolled through until I found someone I could reasonably call a favorite (hey there Phoebe Bridgers) and scrolled through her list until I found one that sounded more appealing than finishing Tropic of Cancer.
Thus, Her Body and Other Parties. This is a collection of short body horror stories, all told from a first person female perspective (if I recall correctly). The first story, The Husband Stitch (and probably all of the stories, really) also used the word cunt a lot. Not as many as Mr. Miller, but more than thrice, and you know what, it didn't bother me one bit. The difference? A woman, writing a woman, about a woman's body. Her domain. Her prerogative. Her power. Her party.
Personal revelations aside, I really enjoyed this book. I've been exploring a lot more this year into horror, specifically body and plant horror, and have seemingly found my sweet spot with short form. So this fits the bill perfectly. The audiobook was good, but I do think it would have been a better experience if read from the page - a couple of the stories almost need that for the full effect. I will definitely be seeing what else Machado has available for future consumption!
