Bad Houses is a stranger book than you think it is (or want it to be). As you press deeper and deeper into this unconnected but distantly related collection of short stories, you try to predict when reality will shift just so, because it always does. Every time. No exceptions--except maybe for "Of Ropes and Islands" and "Foundations," but more on those two pieces later. Otherwise--and possibly including "Foundations," reality isn't reality, or reality is that deep fear you have in a reliably creaky house at night.
When I was about a third of the way through this book, I thought of John Elizabeth Stintzi as a wannabe Aimee Bender. That might be unfair to Stintzi, who is a good writer in her own right, but it's also a high compliment, as Bender has perfected the quirky transmogrification of reality (and characters) in short fiction. To put it another way, who wouldn't want to be compared to Mickey Mantle? But as the stories grew more varied, I realized that Stintzi's writing only resembles Bender's. Whereas Bender creates entire worlds in twelve pages, Stintzi would have you believe that her worlds exist within our world--that they are our world. That's asking a lot of the reader, but Stintzi mostly succeeds, especially in stories later in the book.
Most of my reading of short fiction is through the Greatest American Short Stories series, so I'm used to reading stories in what seems like a random order. (That series normally orders stories alphabetically by writer's last name.) But most short-story writers, like most musical artists, pay very close attention to the order in which their stories appear. Stintzi did what seems like the worst possible job of this, as the first two stories in the book are two of the three worst stories in the entire collection. Things do get better, but then "Of Ropes and Islands" makes its appearance toward the end, and the reader is left to wonder why this "story" was even included. Unlike every other story, there's almost no physical detail, the main (and only) character is flat; and it's the worst kind of short story: a philosophical investigation of the meaning of love, partnering, and loneliness--with only one character!
"Foundations" is a lovely, though frustrating, work of fiction; but it's more of a mini-novella than a short story proper. It's not even terribly long for a short story, but its subject matter and the jumps in time tell me that Stintzi will probably expand it into a novel, or maybe she'll write a bunch of prequels and within-the-timeline-of related short stories. After reading all of these mostly very short pieces, "Foundations" feels like too much. It would have worked better as the third or fourth work in the collection.
I said that the stories are unconnected, and while that's technically true in that they don't share any of the same characters or seem to exist in the same timeline or universe, they're all thematically related. Each story except for "Of Ropes and Islands" is about a bad house. Not a bad home or a figuratively or morally bad place, but an actual house--or multiple houses. I didn't think she could keep it up throughout, but she does, and the results are truly remarkable. I challenge any writer to write 250 pages of short stories that share a theme but are otherwise totally unrelated. It just seems like a hopeless challenge, as the stories would seem to get repetitive, but Stintzi manages to pull it off, mostly. With too many typos.
Stintzi was born in Canada, so she uses Canadian spellings throughout the book, even when all the characters are American and the entire story takes place in the US. This is fine as a stylistic choice, mostly, but when the stories are told in first person, which they rarely are, it is grating, because why would an American first-person narrator use "pyjamas" or "colour" or "neighbourhood"? There are also weak nods toward social-justice topics within some of the stories that feel like missed opportunities. It's unclear whether these asides are meant to evoke deeper meanings related to the plot. I couldn't find any such essential connections, so they came across to me as virtue-signaling, or should I say, "virtue-signalling"?