All of the characters in Carliegh Baker’s smart, sometimes playful but always entertaining story collection, Last Woman, are worried about something. It could be their living circumstances or the environment, or their job. It might be their past, or their future. Regardless of the source, everyone here has good reason to be anxious about what’s coming next.
The collection kicks off with “Midwives,” in which two Métis women—"ecotourists”—are hauling a canoe through the forest in Canada’s far north, a transformative experience for both that, through her clever deployment of language and motif, Baker likens to giving birth. “Catechism” is the story of Charlotte, a junior professor of Creative Writing, whose neurotic lack of confidence manifests itself in a recurring dream that her teeth are falling out. Charlotte, easily intimidated and just a year from having completed her master’s degree, can’t help but regard her hiring as “a fluke.” And to make matters worse, her teaching assistant, a young woman of colour who oozes confidence, has already published a “sprawling space opera trilogy” that’s been optioned for film. With her meagre (by comparison) resumé and unproven teaching skills, how can Charlotte be sure she deserves a place amongst her tenured colleagues?
“Patron Saint of the Hesitant” arises from an emerging genre: pandemic fiction. The narrator, a self-described “empath,” lives alone in a tiny apartment in a “mouldering” building, her solitude exacerbated by the threat presented by the spreading virus. During this challenging time, her only human contact is with Amanda, a fitness instructor, whose archive of online videos she’s working her way through. As an empath, she finds the negative energy that other people bring into the world toxic to her well-being and admits that what she fears the most is not the virus, but what she calls the “big sad:” a corrosive state of mind that finds expression in pessimism and anger. The story pivots on a sudden electrical outage. Since the landlord is mostly absent, she ventures down to the basement to see if she can find a way to restore power and forges an unexpected connection with another of the building’s equally lonely tenants.
Baker’s more whimsical side finds expression in a set of three short pieces, spread through the book, under the title “Billionaires.” These reproduce translated transcripts of reports from the planet Utopis on the fates of three ultra-wealthy humans—Jo Sparks, Eliza Day and Doreen—each of whom have their own reasons for using their wealth and privilege to leave Earth for adventure in outer space. Told from the point of view of the inhabitants of Utopis, who clearly regard themselves superior to humankind, these wry pieces humorously imply that humans might not be the smartest beings in the universe after all.
Carliegh Baker’s outlook is ironic, thoroughly contemporary and a little wacky. Her vulnerable characters often find themselves staring into the void, with no idea how to proceed, a situation most of us have no doubt encountered, probably more than once, possibly every day. Last Woman speaks in a recognizable voice. It’s the voice we use when we try to explain to someone that astounding thing that just happened.