The girls on the prowl in The Terrible Girls are indeed terrible—relentless in love, ruthless in betrayal. These thematically linked stories depict a contemporary Gothic world in which body parts are traded for love, wounds never heal, and self-sacrifice is often the only way out.
"In this brilliantly original work, Rebecca Brown gives us haunting parables of betrayal and love, of loss and resurrection, of loneliness and solidarity. Like a modern Djuna Barnes, Brown creates a language of telling that is fiercely beautiful and honest. This book is a love story unlike any you have read before. Its subversive and passionate transformation carry the lesbian literary voice onto the 21st century." —Joan Nestle
"A dry, witty, graceful–if savage–gift." —Mary Gaitskill
"The Terrible Girls comes from one of the fiercest, most potent, original writers around: a bloody flayer of skins, both other's and her own . . . a work of possessed and persuasive visionary power." —The Listener
"The Terrible Girls is a powerful account of erotic love which exchanges the comforts of illusion for more complex and less certain rewards." —The Times Literary Supplement
Rebecca Brown is the winner of the 2003 Washington State Book Award. Her books, which are all published by City Lights, include: The Haunted House, The Terrible Girls, The End of Youth, The Last Time I Saw You, and The Dogs, Annie Oakley's Girl. She was awarded a Genius Award and grant from Seattle's weekly magazine, The Stranger.
Rebecca Brown’s diverse oeuvre contains collections of essays and short stories, a fictionalized autobiography, a modern bestiary, a memoir in the guise of a medical dictionary, a libretto for a dance opera, a play, and various kinds of fantasy.
Found this both excruciating and perfect, like finding a mixtape made to help you endure a break-up that evokes all of its awfulness and yet is beautiful and perfect and part of who you are, after all. I love the way the stories fit together with variations and repetitions, and the post-apocalyptic feeling is pitch-perfect. I am already haunted by this one, that sitting somewhere else trying to think of something else pieces of these stories drift into my head and I think, yes that is exactly how it feels.
I think that the writing of this book is really amazing, particularly in the ways in which the stories are all along the same lines, but in different shades. The weaving of the stories' plots together is amusing, and Brown is both really funny and horrifying, at once. The problem is that the book is supposed to be stories that are related to one another, but instead come off to me as really almost all being of the same voice and direction. Were this a novel with different scenarios, I might not have thought weirdly of this at all, but many of the stories in this book would not have stood well to me on their own, but seemed more likely repititious filler. That being said the story about the arm, and the one about the coffee cart girls are both very witty and smart, and the one about carrying the bag is surreal and brilliant. Definitely worth reading.
This is a story cycle that I really enjoyed. Not a lot of emphasis on plot here, but meticulously crafted line by line writing. "Forgiveness" is a gem of a short story.
A lesbian breakup album, a black-and-white horror film flickering down like lightning in the operating theater, a tray of gleaming scalpels: These are slim experimental f/sf stories about what it is like to be betrayed by you, the unjust you who can withdraw into a respectable world of safety and candy promises... and also what it's like to slowly realize that affronted and amputated I share some complicities with you.
I loved this book in high school and I love it now. It's self-righteous, but it also shows the corrosive force of self-righteousness. It's violent in the way so much queer culture in the '90s was violent--maybe partly because of AIDS (I don't think it's coincidence that Brown has also written a novel about a caregiver for homebound AIDS patients), maybe partly because of the greater overall violence of that era. These mad scientists and retro servant girls are images of how homophobia damages our ability to love one another. I have MANY TIMES been at well-intentioned conferences where I think about the story here with the secret perversions of coffee-cart girls. And then that sociological layer of meaning is itself a synecdoche for how much imbalance, incomprehension, and camp horror we discover in every relationship that lasts long enough to feel like a limb.
This is a book where everything you might call love is as outsize and distorted as the shadows in German Expressionism. It's brilliant.
If you are a writer, this is a must read. Even if you are not a writer, this is a fantastic read. Rebecca Brown has a sparse writing style where no word is frivolous. The Terrible Girls can be read as a collection of short stories or as an interconnected whole that explores an emotional journey using fiction to express what cannot always be expressed in telling the truth in detail. If you are in a bookstore and happen along this book, just pull it out and start reading one of the stories, it will undoubtedly draw you in. Better yet, read it with a friend, as there are unending intrigues to discuss.
A collection of short stories for writers and sophisticated readers. Brown makes the leap from metaphor to brutal, yet magical, realism in these inter-linked stories of love and betrayal. Finely crafted expositions of what it means to find that your lover is heartless, that you would give your right arm for her...
An amazing feat, yes. The only downside, I suppose, is that it is painful (frightening?) to watch someone feel that much. There's usually a reason you don't send those letters to the one who's left you.
The girls on the prowl in The Terrible Girls are indeed terrible-relentless in love, ruthless in betrayal. These thematically linked stories depict a contemporary Gothic world in which body parts are traded for love, wounds never heal, and self-sacrifice is often the only way out.
I had to put this in for Kelli. Very intriguing the first read. After that the lesbian thing is just too discusting to think about. I don't know anyone who would chop off their arm and mail it to their lover though.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
holy shit. that was so good. everyone saying it’s the same story over and over is just quite simply wrong because of the way everything is tied together at the end. not to mention the fact that this is written so so beautifully, the art of words and the reminders about love and loss are so prominent. happening upon this book at a second hand bookshop and buying it just because i liked the cover was probably the best decision i’ve ever made in my entire life.
loved digging out the meaning in each of these stories and seeing them all be referenced within eachother! i feel like i could re read this and dig out more meaning and parallels and i probably will. If i ever go through a breakup i will be reading this again, very good breakup book.
Honestly really enjoyed this and would recommend but I wouldn’t say that all of the short stories were intertwined. 2 of them could have been left out tbh. I wish that some of the story lines were longer because they were very interesting and left me wanting more
Five stars isn't enough to describe how much I loved this book. It was unique, well-written, and utterly engrossing. I feel lucky to have picked it up!
this is a book i read for a class sophomore year, and i've never quite reconciled how i feel about it. i wrote a paper on the symbolism in the book which made me like it more, because it made me think about it more.
occasionally i return to the book and re-read it, and i never quite know what to think. i think it depends on the level the stories are analyzed at, i think they stand much stronger when linked thematically than when left to stand on their own. it's at times unflinching in it's love and pain, which can be easier or harder to stomach. i think age has helped me appreciate the stories and the metaphors more.
"i'm lost in a city whose name you cant pronounce; i think it is my own. your country's maps spell this name differently. will you recognize the post mark? will you recognize my hand? who'll translate the maps for us? do you know this means i love you? do you know this means i love you?"
I was really excited to read this - I loved Annie Oakley's Girl, and was so happy to pick up another Rebecca Brown - but this one just did nothing for me. I basically only finished it so I could write a goodreads review. The first story was engaging and alluring - very Jeanette Winterson in the way that a complex emotional story emerged even in the absence of lots of plot details - but then as the stories continued and got grimmer, the style started to feel like it got in the way. It started feeling boring and repetitive even though in many ways the stories were quite inventive - the style just got overly clunky and restrictive. It was gloomy and depressing without catharsis. Reading it made me feel like a worm. A dispirited, disappointed worm.