A ruthless and razor-sharp essay collection that tackles the pervasive, creeping oppression and toxicity that has wormed its way into society—in our books, schools, and homes, as well as the systems that perpetuate them—from the acclaimed author of Mean, and one of our fiercest, foremost explorers of intersectional Latinx identity.
A creep can be a singular figure, a villain who makes things go bump in the night. Yet creep is also what the fog does—it lurks into place to do its dirty work, muffling screams, obscuring the truth, and providing cover for those prowling within it.
Creep is Myriam Gurba’s informal sociology of creeps, a deep dive into the dark recesses of the toxic traditions that plague the United States and create the abusers who haunt our books, schools, and homes. Through cultural criticism disguised as personal essay, Gurba studies the ways in which oppression is collectively enacted, sustaining ecosystems that unfairly distribute suffering and premature death to our most vulnerable. Yet identifying individual creeps, creepy social groups, and creepy cultures is only half of this book’s project—the other half is examining how we as individuals, communities, and institutions can challenge creeps and rid ourselves of the fog that seeks to blind us.
With her ruthless mind, wry humor, and adventurous style, Gurba implicates everyone from Joan Didion to her former abuser, everything from Mexican stereotypes to the carceral state. Braiding her own history and identity throughout, she argues for a new way of conceptualizing oppression, and she does it with her signature blend of bravado and humility.
Powerful and painful essays about living as a queer Mexican woman. Creep addresses a range of topics including the intersection of racism and sexism, sexual assault, and oppression enacted by people both within and outside of the literary community. I like that Myriam Gurba can both call people out and inject humor and wit into her writing.
While I loved Myriam Gurba’s memoir Mean when I read it back in 2019, I unfortunately didn’t enjoy Creep as much. The essays in Creep felt a bit too unfocused for my taste. I think others may still appreciate the nonlinear writing more than me.
I appreciated this collection in new ways on my reread. It is so smart and good.
Really strong essays. Powerful. Angry. Smart. Dynamic. Gurba’s POV is unique and her arguments are well reasoned. A few stick out as incredibly memorable.
Thank you to the author Myrium Gurba, publishers Avid Reader Press and Simon and Schuster, also to NetGalley, for a digital review copy. All views are mine.
Three (or more) things I loved:
1. I adore the trip down memory lane with the 80's toys, Barbies and Cabbage Patch Dolls and Garbage Pail Kids!
2. She captures the fleeting and elusive nature of childhood and everything in it, even death, in a single image: Quote loc. 972.
3. She provides some really interesting and important information on prisons and ex-prisoners in the essay entitled "Locas," like that ex-prisoners are hired less often than their counterparts without a prior conviction, but they tend to have lower turnover and get promoted faster. Also, it's assumed by many that time in prison is the debt ex-prisoners pay to society, but they have to keep paying once they're released-- restitution, return of damages, and for their state provided defense, if they used such. loc.1278
4. "White Onion" contains the most fascinating and meaningful discussion of cannibalism I ever expected to encounter.
5. I adore the note about the power and necessity of literary analysis and criticism: Quote loc. 2225.
6. Gurba writes deeply insightful passages about the experience of SA and sexual trauma, such as loc. 3240. I won't quote it here, to protect those sensitive to triggering.
7. These essays don't read or feel like nonfiction. They're riveting in style and surreal in places. They remind me so much of bits of magical realism. She reminds me so much of like of Brando Skyhorse and Sherman Alexie had little literary kittens.
Three (or less) things I didn't love:
This section isn't only for criticisms. It's merely for items that I felt something for other than "love" or some interpretation thereof.
1. The essay on Didion is probably my favorite. It explores some interesting stylistic, but more importantly ethical questions about perhaps the US's formost creative essayist: Quote loc. 2200. What bothers me about this piece is the tone. It's so academic, so removed, not like Gurba's other work at all. Is she mimicking Didion, mocking her? Hard to tell here. Still a great piece, but hard to ingest.
A few words on each essay:
1. "Tell" An essay about how children's games can be deadly, and how deadly games can create deadly men. Gurba writes about a fascinating case of three brothers who accidentally kill a nanny during a game, and all go on to become remarkable individuals.
2. "Cucuy" is a brilliant essay on the serial killer The Night Stalker, who was active where Gurba lived when she was only a little girl.
3. "Locas" is an essay about abuse. Big abuse, the kind an organization does to an individual. Little abuse, the kind an individual does to a littler individual. What it's like to be abused. What it's like to know someone who is abused. What it's like to live with abuse and after you've been abused. Top 3!
4. "Mitote" is an essay about home as a place, as people, and as conflict.
5. "The White Onion" is an unforgiving and eye opening analysis of Joan Didion's creative nonfiction work as both racist and willfully closeminded.
6. "Navajazo" is about gendered violence and the states failure to protect women from violence twice: first, repeatedly, from the men closest to them, and second, only once usually, from themselves when they commit capital crime in self-defense.
7. "Waterloo" is about one of the author's really racist exes and her really racist family, but it's also about knowing what you want and respecting your own boundaries.
8. "Slimed" is about comedy with a capital C and misogyny. Here is my trigger warning for extreme language describing SA and violence against children and women.
9. "Itchy" is an extremely powerful essay about racism in education and how hard reforms must be fought for. “Mexican-Americans,”writes the essayist E. Michael Madrid, “tend to be identified not by what they are, but what they are not.”In this way, Mexican-Americans are like lesbians, another group of people who tend to be identified not by what they are, but what they are not. I belong to a diaspora defined by deficiency, and I keep a running list of things I’m supposedly missing. Loc. 3484 Top 3!
10. "Pendeja, You Ain't Steinbeck" is about the challenges of finding success for writers who are women of color, and what Gurba has experienced in her own career and striving for greatness.
11. "Creep" is an essay about how social and cultural structure help to reinforce institutional misogyny, from sexual harassment in the Supreme Court to domestic violence that leads to murder. Gurba details her own horrific experience with domestic violence. (Note: this story is harrowing.) Top 3!
Rating: 👁👁👁👁👁 creeping eyes Recommend? Yes! Finished: Aug 31 '23 Format: Digital arc, Kindle, NetGalley Read this book if you like: 🎞 nonfiction 📃 essays 👨👩👧👦 family stories, family drama 👭🏽 intersectional feminism 💇♀️ girls' coming of age
Full disclosure: I won a free ARC of this book in a Goodreads giveaway.
Wow! This was definitely better than I'd been expecting. I'm unfamiliar with Gurba's work, but the jacket description was intriguing, and the cover image striking. So I took a chance.
The first essay, "Tell," won me over by bringing Joan Vollmer into focus. I discovered William S. Burroughs at an impressionable age. I normally avoid literary fiction, but his sheer weirdness and unpredictability attracted me. I read his biography, and interviews, and watched Naked Lunch multiple times. But, until reading this essay, Joan had never really existed for me except as Burroughs' Wife, Whom He Shot Playing William Tell. But Gurba gives us something of Joan's life, which made me aware of how one-sided my mental picture has been over the years. She gave me Joan Vollmer as a person, and I love her for that.
And, of course, the essay is about more than just Joan. In all of these pieces, there's more going on than just what's visible on the surface. Gurba's writing takes on an impressionistic quality at times. We'll get bits and pieces of separate scenes that, taken together in succession, enhance each other and resonate more strongly. It works very well. I initially approached the book with a certain amount of trepidation–"I don't know if I'm going to like this."-- but was quickly won over by her style, wit, and honesty.
Favorite title is probably, "Pendeja, You Ain't Steinbeck: My Bronca with Fake-Ass Social Justice Literature." My Spanish could be charitably described as "rudimentary," but I was cackling with glee as I read that.
Creep is an amazing book. It makes me want to read Mean, her previous book. Highly recommended!
Her most solid book yet, this one feels like an unbreakable brick. Many of the essays feel like they've taken on a tighter, more true crime-y style, but still with the occasional slashes of Gurba humor. The essay on Didion is dazzling, the queer feast of Waterloo is funny and entertaining, and the literary mentions and dissections throughout are refreshingly strong. The long title essay that closes the book is an intense and grueling masterclass on writing about abuse. Creep is further proof that Myriam Gurba is one of our best and most uncompromising writers about the highs and lows of life and culture.
I received an arc of this title from Netgalley. My opinions are my own.
Creep is a very worthwhile interesting title. The author's voice is compelling, infused with intelligence and a dry humor. In some ways, the book was a verbal version of those evidence boards in crime shows with the red strings connecting elements.
Myriam Gurba has this knack of relaying a story, and then connecting it -- even though they seem initially unconnected -- to a previous story or stories. Every time she does it, it somehow seems fresh, and exciting. Like a hit of dopamine.
Some of the stories she tells are about stories in the media, many are stories of her family and her Mexican heritage, some are deeply personal stories of abuses she's survived, but in the end they all feel like they belong to the same tapestry.
When accepting an ARC -- advanced reader/review copy -- almost always there's a note saying not to quote the book unless you can confirm the quote is in the final copy. This leaves me with a lot of compelling quotes that I can't imagine didn't make the cut, but I don't know that. So you can discover them for yourself.
The author's words pack a punch, expressing anger, frustration, and the push and pull of memory. What it means to be a queer woman of Mexican heritage, or at least this queer woman of Mexican heritage.
This should appeal to people with an interest in intersexual feminism and a penchant for true crime.I plan on reading the author's previous book, Mean.
This memoir was an emotional firestorm for me. It’s not a POV I will ever fully understand. I am grateful to the author for sharing her stories. I received this book through a Goodreads giveaway and this is my unbiased opinion. Please go pick up a copy when it releases in September 2023. Trauma shared is therapeutic.
Creep is a collection of Accusations and confessions of being a MEXICAN Gay girl while growing up and then ending up in the California institution for women in Chino, Valley State Prison for Women. By Myriam Gurba, I won this book in Goodreads Giveaway
Very smart writing that I sometimes struggled to wrap my head around, given the many directions each essay takes. I appreciated how she writes about folk tales and inscribed her own stories into folk lore. It was truly devastating to see her dissect the many ways the personal and political meet to subjugate women and glorify violence against them. And specifically the many layers of racism against Mexicans in California history kind of shocked me. The last essay is so heartbreaking and painful and concludes the whole work in such a powerful way.
I switched between reading and listening and the audiobook was really well narrated by the author
I don’t know if audio was the best format for this. The story is nonlinear which for me was extra difficult to follow while listening. There’s also a lot of random chimes? I sorta got used to it, assuming it indicates text breaks, but it’s rather annoying.
Regarding the book itself, the writing is great but it wasn’t really what I was expecting. It covers a lot of sexual assault and domestic violence so be wary of that.
Miss Myriam split me open, rearranged my insides, and stitched me back up with this book. From the first page, I knew it was already my favorite book that I've ever read. It isn't just the rich and nuanced content to the stories she tells, it was her singular narrative style that resonated with my scattered heart. It felt like so much of my own inner musings, furious, hilarious, profound and gut-wrenching, and I feel an immediate kinship with this voice. It was so validating to look into this literary mirror, and incredibly healing to see and be seen this way.
I'm still shaking. And will need to read and re-read and re-read it for a long time to come.
Loved the idea of this book and was interested in almost every source material Gurba used but there was not a coherent enough thread between the essays for me. Disappointed but not writing her off as an author, so much was contained in this but it was unfortunately too haphazardly constructed to take much away.
a moving, important collection of essays and personal stories that let you into gurba's world through her experiences, hardships, and family history. this book was eye-opening to the struggles of women, queer people, Mexican immigrants in the united states, and the appalling treatment of Indigenous peoples. very compelling.
the last essay, 'creep,' should be essential reading everywhere. like carmen maría machado's 'in the dream house,' this essay offers a truthful, haunting look into facing domestic abuse and how survivors are failed by everyone around them. i won't be forgetting this anytime soon.
[i received an advance copy from netgalley in return for an honest review. thank you!]
Thank you Netgalley for this arc! Whew. What a ride. This book is important, this feels like mandatory reading. I first came across myriam Gurba on Instagram years ago, her feed being one that seemed as poignant and implicating as the newspaper during the me too movement. But that’s exactly it, even though this book is coming out in 2023, it feels timeless. Please pay attention. Do not ignore this title nor this voice.
TW: to say this book is heavy would be an understatement. The final chapters include detailed accounts of assault and abuse, but these themes are woven throughout the entire book.
Modern classic. Can’t wait to reread. Going to be thinking about it forever probably!! What a talent, what a writer. No MFA required, for anyone who thinks otherwise. I will read anything you write, Myriam Gurba!
I didn't know what exactly to feel about Creep. I enjoy reading memoirs as a genre, but sometimes I don't think that what I'm looking for in them is what is popular or gets most people reading them. For the most part, I'm not interested in someone rehashing their trauma so readers can lookie-loo. Or rehashing trauma to make me believe it happened and was bad. (I believe you.) I don't find any catharsis in the "true crime" genre, and it's something I actively avoid due to the toxicity of cishet white women making it into their fantasy genre and turning it into a fandom.
Myriam Gurba's existence as a survivor and as a Mexican American queer woman turns much of this narrative on its head, but she doesn't go far enough. When she introduced the grossness of her middle school students having a "favorite" serial killer, Creep didn't tie all these threads together. The titular essay shows us the heinousness of Q and his mundanity. But fails on the critique. Then I asked myself if I was expecting too much of Gurba or a non-linear point-of-view to transform into a cohesive narrative.
Gurba's telling of her cousin Desiree's story intermixed with her own, stood out as the most poignant, complex, messy, and human. At the same time, it highlights all the failings of a society's governmental and familial structure around these girls. Gurba's writing is so sharp and precise here that we do not pity Desiree or point to the "better" cousin. Instead, we understand that both cousins made the best choices they could at those times to try to carve out safety and live.
While at this, the overall cohesiveness and critique didn't work for me, I did find many of Gurba's essays poignant and important and lending a different lived lens to the fundamental problem of rampant abuse and sexual assault in our society, especially that violence targeted at women.
Really powerful read. Gurba courageously delved into the racism against Mexicans throughout Californian history + the torture, humiliation, and shame men have made and continue to make women endure. The essays were largely disjointed though, very nonlinear and oftentimes difficult to follow. Some were much stronger and coherent than others. My favorite was Slimed, it made me cry… was too relatable… gut wrenching even… “I want for laughter to protect everybody who has ever been slimed.” Overall super moving and educational!
No words. Absolutely soul crushing, my heart is shattered. I know the world in which the author speaks and I couldn't stop crying. The end had me holding my breath. I know that fear, that never ending paranoia. The absolute injustice of the end and how unfair our society is. I should not have tried to finish this before election night in the US because now I can't stop feeling full of dread and anxiety.
This is incredible. Gurba has a powerful voice that demands to be heard. This book covers so many themes and all are executed so well. I especially loved her mindful critique of Didion and her famous criticism of American Dirt. Excited to read more of her work!
the last quarter of this book was stomach-churningly addictive. and what else can you do but cover your mouth with your hand and keeping flipping the page as you are confronted with some of the scariest examples of domestic violence you have ever read.