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361 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 6, 2023
‘Bertha Mellish lived in a profoundly unequal society. [...] In fictionalizing the aftermath of her disappearance, I’ve tried to consider what it might take for a woman of Bertha’s time to free herself from [marked] constraints and what constraints she might not even be capable of seeing, much less resisting.’So, once you’ve stopped expecting midnight stabbings on campus grounds and started envisioning a fin-de-siècle intellective gameplay, emotional strategising between contemporary female and male characters; you’re closer to what this novel is. (Although, Chapter One gave me real ‘Dead Man’s Folly’ vibes.)
‘Florence’s feelings were scattered and terrible, like the mess of little foul creatures that scuttle out from an overturned log on the forest floor.’Yet there is also a sense of authorial distance from the characters, which doesn't dominate the tone, but can subtly affect and shift sympathies and allegiances:
‘[Agnes’ mind] was segmented as the chambers of a shell and similarly armoured. Unless we mean to pry her open, oyster-like, there are things we cannot know about Agnes Sullivan until we have traversed those chambers.’So, the narrative is substantially cerebral, yet the vehicle by which it is carried is very definitely the body:
‘Mabel’s breath steamed into the tunnel of her ear, her lips brushed the shell of cartilage around it. Agnes raised her arms and enfolded Mabel awkwardly within them. The line of her corset pressed into the inside of Agnes’s elbows. She radiated heat.’The style of ‘Killingly’ is overwhelmingly corporeal - readers glean more from Florence's sensations in the bathtub and Agnes's sensations as she vomits, than from any actual investigations they conduct. Beutner’s writing is fantastically well-honed and her use of figurative language is inventive, yet precise:
‘The frothy vomit gave off a hot tangy smell. Agnes wiped her mouth with the back of one shaking hand and put the basin on the floor, startled by the painful burst of laughter that had overtaken her. It seemed born from a bubble below her diaphragm – not a bubble -, no; a spiked expansion like the tropical fish she’d seen in a museum in Boston that could blow up to thrice its size.’‘Killingly’ is carried in the female body, is shaped around the absence of Bertha’s body, fear engendered by frequent images of it: Bertha drowned and bloated on the Auburn cemetery slab; Bertha bloodied and bleeding on the laundry room floor; Bertha emerging from the woods ‘mussed’:
‘Her breath came fast and whispery. These memories of Bertha were like membrane-covered vats of viscous liquid. She could move across their taut surfaces, seemingly secure, until the membrane split and deposited her gasping in the past.’Animal bodies, too, stand in symbolically for Bertha’s body; it is no coincidence that two of the highlighted pursuits with which the central two girls are preoccupied are a) a debate on vivisection and, b) the dispatch of a living creature and the assemblage of its skeleton for Zoology class.