What a festering triumph! This novella shows a continued growth in Gretchen Felker-Martin’s writing, with a profoundly sympathetic main character, tense and genuine world-building, and a feverish atmosphere that is punctuated by moments of unflinching violence. It feels like a combination of Gemma File’s Experimental Film and Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s Silver Nitrate, only combined with Felker-Martin’s sensibilities of graphic rage and justice. The writing really does shine, leading us into an uncontrolled nightmare that keeps you looking over your shoulder. The graphic sex and violence of both Manhunt and Cuckoo are here in this book, but here the rage feels like it is simmering under the surface, and Felker-Martin hasn’t reined it in as much as she has been more deliberate with where and how it explodes onto the page.
The story pulls you in right away, and once you’re lost in its grasping claws it doesn’t let you go. The writing only follows a single character, which makes the story feel more narratively restrained than her previous two novels, and it is better for it. We are able to really get lost in (and with) that character, grow with them, feeling their pains and triumphs, and it makes the story a lot more impactful. This isn’t story just about finding yourself, it is about reclaiming yourself, reclaiming your history and your desires and your right to occupy space. The intersection of queer and Jewish identities, and the ways in which the violence of the Holocaust is continually experienced by those communities, even four decades after the end of the war, is the unsettled heart of this story, and the narrative crafted around it explores the many permutations of that violence, especially as it collides with classicism, misogyny, patriarchy, homophobia, and more. Maybe most importantly, this story is heartfelt, with a genuine emotional center that cradles its main character, as confused and acted upon as they are, with warmth and concern.
As usual Felker-Martin doesn’t feel like she is pulling any of her punches, she wants the reader to feel this story. Yet in some ways it is much more ephemeral than her previous novels, playing with ideas of the occult and the unknown in ways that force the characters (and readers) to question their sense of self as well as their sense of reality. It does lean heavily on fevered-nightmare aesthetics, that frenzied insomnia where it is hard to hold too tightly to anything that might offer explicit answers. This is done really well, with enough narrative momentum to always keep the reader interested and wanting more, with a resolution that is both satisfying and earned while also not afraid of some ambiguity. I really appreciate the length, it is more than enough to get lost in and every page matters, but it never feels like it gets lost or is wallowing in any scene or moment longer than necessary. This is especially important because of the general fugue-like atmosphere and the sense of unknowing that pervades the story, it would be easy to give in to that. Instead, she cuts through it with well-placed moments of bitingly graphic imagery, both violent and sexual in nature, never feeling tawdry or done for shock value but to add a feral tangibility to the text.
I really enjoyed this novella. It feels like an evolution in her writing that doesn’t sacrifice its edge but is able to grow and expand while also be more focused and intentional. It makes me even more excited to continue reading her than I was before, to see what heartfelt dark horrors she has in store.
(Rounded from 4.5)