Erotic, abrasive, and visceral, Kim Addonizio’s novella, In the Box Called Pleasure is a collection of short stories assessing the both the female psyche and libido. Her (mostly female) characters range from a series of alcoholics, sluts, sadists, and masochists dealing with issues, ranging from abuse to drug addiction, in a manner that is unnervingly surreal. For instance, in “The Gift”, Addonizio captures a woman finds a dildo on the street and is magically transformed into a man (ala Virginia Woolf’s Orlando). In “The Fall of Saigon”, the author focuses on a woman, in a sadomasochistic relationship, who decides to have her third abortion after an unexpected pregnancy. Such provocative stories and literary tropes of emotionally fragile and self-destructive women manage to inform Addonizio’s book.
As an author of a strong poetry background, Addonizio’s writing is evident of poetic consciousness, as a majority of her prose consists of choppy sentences with direct imagery and anecdotes. For example, in “Scores”:
“He puts Pierre Cardin powder in his underwear every morning and I like the smell.
Loren puts his hand on my hair while I suck him. He doesn’t make a sound” (56).
In addition, Addonizio experiments with multiple perspectives, specifically within “A Brief History of Condoms”, which dictates encyclopedic anecdotes on condoms in a manner that is matter-of-fact and darkly humorous. Yet it is within the, often, graphic and hypersexual prose that renders Addonizio’s writing as forward and brutal, such as in the titular story:
"Most men are lousy fucks anyway; that box is crammed full. Can't get it up, can't keep it up, won't eat pussy, comes in three seconds, holds me like I'm made of glass, can't find my clit, won't use a condom, fucks in total silence, expects me to do all the work, thinks of it as work, as proof of his power..."
With such explicit, sensory imagery, Addonizio’s writing may read like unabashed erotica that often veers towards the macabre. Yet this only seems to serve as the catalyst for explorations of the female psyche. “In the Box Called Pleasure” finds its strength in its depiction of women, whose emptiness with life, men, and sex serve as a catharsis and psychological escape. The book also contains stories and accounts of sexual violence, domestic abuse, and motherhood, which prove both jarring and titillating as we gain insight into the fears, hopes, desires, and rage of modern women and the human condition. The book is unconventional not so much for its vulgar content, but for the nuances of the female mind and body that Addonizio strips bare.