Wild Milk is like Borscht Belt meets Leonora Carrington; it’s like Donald Barthelme meets Pony Head; it’s like the Brothers Grimm meet Beckett in his swim trunks at the beach. In other words, this remarkable collection of stories is unlike anything else you’ve read.
Sabrina Orah Mark is the author of Wild Milk, a collection of fiction, as well as two collections of poetry, The Babies and Tsim Tsum. Happily, which began as a monthly column on fairytales and motherhood inThe Paris Review, is now out from Random House. She has received fellowships from the Creative Capital Foundation, the National Endowment for the Arts, the Sustainable Arts Foundation, and the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, Massachusetts. She lives in Athens, Georgia. You can read more about her teaching and her writing at www.sabrinaorahmark.com
These are very dependent on me as a reader, my reading mindset. Each is finely constructed but I really need to meet them on their own terms with willing alertness or they don't really engage what they seem designed to. But when they do (when I'm the reader these deserve, perhaps), magic happens.
Utterly strange and wonderfully ridiculous. These stories have a fairy tale quality and are sprinkled with odd mothers, forgetful lovers, cruel children, and confused protagonists. At times, they feel stuck in surreal dreams and at other times a sadness seeps into the anxiety of it all. I totally gave myself over to Mark's narrative styles and approaches in these 24 wonders. She's the kind of writer who can do whatever she wants and it's a constant thrill. This book is coming out on October 1st. Mark your calendars.
I liked many of these stories. I loved a few of them, especially two that are back-to-back in this slim collection: “Sister” and “Spells.” I was confused by just as many as the ones I liked; I’d have to think about them a lot more, probably until my brain hurt. It’s a good thing these tales are very short.
Wild Milk is a truly radiant story collection. A sense of the absurd up there with Flann O’Brien, Marvin Cohen, and Sam Beckett runs through these short anti-fables and anti-stories, surreal bursts of irreal comedy that are seriously playful and seriously funny. A world where relationships transgress the bodily and reality is bent around Mark’s fantastical, kindly cynical, and hypnotic prose, Wild Milk is a singular work of inspired madness.
As I said to Sabrina Orah Mark herself: a strange and almost poetically nuts but altogether inane bent on a sort of compelling fever-dream. Each story has a coat of playful comedy that often flakes off to reveal a sort of emotion (whether it be sorrow, pain, fear, unease) in a surreal manner that reaches for the literary patterns of the subconscious brilliantly—perhaps even before the reader can actually catch the root of the feeling that quietly fiddles with their mind and ask, “how”.
My 2nd collection of incredibly strange stories from Dorothy, a publishing project in the past few months. I believe I preferred the dark humor in The Babysitter at Rest to the surreal fairy tales of Wild Milk. That's not to say there isn't excellence to be found here. There is. Your third mother just might happen to be hiding it in her ocean...Or something.
My favorite passage from the collection:
The maid points to a swimming pool in the far distance. “You see that swimming pool?” “Barely,” I say. “As a child, I swam in that swimming pool. I didn’t drown once.”
Also really enjoyed this one:
In the morning, it is Ugrit who finds me. She lifts me up out of the cocoon. “I am so hot, Ugrit, and so thirsty.” She brings me the bucket of water. It is the same bucket she left for me to carry into the unfolding epoch. I take a sip. The water tries to climb up out of my mouth. I swallow hard. It is like slaughter. “I cannot drink this water, Ugrit. This water is alive.”
Was enchanted by this interview between Mark and Vi Khi Nao:
Extremely clever, frequently funny language play abounds in this little book. Part Kafka, part Diane Williams, part Henny Youngman, Mark takes ordinary situations, tosses in startling imagery, and then ratchets the whole thing up to absurd levels by focusing almost microscopically on the routine things we say and do, almost without thought despite the specifics of the situation, as we go about our everyday lives. The best stories in this collection ("The Taxmen", "The Very Nervous Family", "Mother at the Dentist") hinge on family dynamics which brings a dose of pathos to the whimsy. Lesser tales read more like unsuccessful extended prose poems than fully realized stories and lack the emotional punch of the best work but they're still a pleasure to read for their inventive use of language and fresh imagery.
Readers who enjoyed Dorothy's earlier collection of absurdist short stories, The Babysitter at Rest by Jen George, will surely like this too.
I first found S.O. Mark through The Paris Review column she does on fairy tales, and promptly bought all her published work, unseen. I spent over a month reading this wondrous book.
At first, I was startled. What was this? It wasn't at all what I'd been expecting, but rather like falling into the rabbit hole of Wonderland. Or as if I were half-awake, liminal, as the passenger next to me were telling me prophetic dreams she'd had. I found myself unable to read more than a few pages without poetry spilling out of me as if her words were a fountain and my cup was too shallow to hold the language before I could keep going. An egg race between myself and her work.
I'm so glad I own this. I plan to read it over and over until it falls apart.
I don't really know how to rate this. I was tempted to give it lower marks, except that a few of these stories really popped for me and I wonder if the collection as a whole might interest me more at another time (or if even other stories might). These are strange pieces of writing, to be sure: absurd, untethered from reality, with a poet's eye towards prose. As a result, there's something arch about them (to me) and I couldn't get a tether on most of them. I can appreciate the craft here, but not sure the writing is ultimately for me.
This collection is nuts. Almost like an alien, or a lonely computer trying to speak english, trying to make out of the ruins of a dying language. References are dropped with cultural context, stripping any word of its' semantic meaning. These stories are WEIRD, but so beautiful and so sad
A strange and whimsical-depressed collection of stories and/as prose-poems. Gets better with rereads. I’m honestly not sure non-Jews have the range to really “get” this one, but they are of course invited to try!
These stories come from the chattering family of ditties and jokes and fables and sayings. They are like old songs we don't know why we sing anymore except that we do. Time has made nonsense of old songs. Their logic is mostly musical. But look down there in the bucket, Dear Liza, and find the hole, and what is the hole? We don't know, Dear Henry, it's just always been down there, and that's why we sing about it. There are plenty of primordial holes and gaps and blanks in these stories, things that just are because "This is the song we're in": mice, goats, fish, milk. And a lot of characters—peoplish things and thingish people—are holding hands. They don't know why, it just feels nice. I thought that was nice, too. More characters need to hold hands in stories.
While some of the repetitions and randomness seemed, to me, mannered, this was more than made up for by many odd, defamiliarizing sentences that could probably only have come up in this particular hothouse of repetition and randomness.
These stories fall somewhere amidst flash fiction, poetry, and dream. I was hooked from the start. Sometimes non-sensical or irrational and still they touch on something universal and urgent. Need, Anxiety. Loss. The impossibility of communication.
oh my god!! every so often i find pieces of art that makes me feel so happy in ways that i find impossible to articulate. this book belongs in that very small list of special art. every story is written with such nonsencial, absurd images that are delivered with such an assured tone that its so easy to just go along with it all, even when it makes no real sense. theres such a love for the simple way words sound in a sentence together that brings out the humor and poignancy in this book. recently, ive been thinking a lot about art that unapologetically wont explain itself and i think theres a lot of power in the author choosing to hold meaning just for themselves
sure there are a few misses, and one story that felt a little triggering for me (youll know the one) but im still giving thsi 5 stars. beautiful beautiful book, benny should read this.
I need to read these all again to provide a proper review, but this is more than a collection of short stories. This is a world unlike any other where every sentence is unexpected and shining with love, fear, confusion, bewilderment, uncertainty, and more. Some of these three page fables feel much, much longer. I've read 'The Very Nervous Family' more than any other short story / prose poem ever.
I love these wry, gem-like short stories. I gobbled them up like so many chips, all in one afternoon, and am now rereading them more slowly, to savor what Mark does with words. These pieces are magical and funny, absurdist fairy tales.
So so strange and incredibly funny! These stories were really wonderful! Each story feels like a dream, starting out relatively normal (I say that with a grain of salt) and then suddenly taking a turn towards the weird. I really loved this book!
This was so wild! I loved it! Crazed, mischievous fables that feel like spinning around, the moment before you realize you're dizzy and it's just delight
It is an absolutely delightful and unapologetically poetic collection of short stories or sometimes prose poems. A collection so desperately needed in these times; it has enough potency to make us realize that the soul of techno-modernization has not yet crushed the soul of absurdism and surrealism - a world where the ancient modernists would sigh encouragingly. Not everything is ravaged by the absolute imperialistic narcissism of our times. I enjoyed it thoroughly. Will be looking forward to reading more of SOM's works. Pieces that I particularly liked where the author blended with perfect literary precision her absurdist sensibilities with worldly aphorisms- the titular "Wild Milk", " For the Safety of our country", "Spells", "The Roster" "The Maid, The Mother, The Snail and I","Are you my Mother", "Let's do this once more, but this time with feeling", "There's a hole in the bucket". Most of Mark's characters seemed to be afflicted by the limits of the human language where the words they use often don't mean or reflect what they want to express- To me, it seems to hint subtly at a much wider literary paradox in a world where our emotions are becoming more intangible as we grow more and more isolated from each other.
As wildly language driven as ever. The stories themselves fold into phrases. The phrases turn into jokes, the jokes turn into sublime tragedies. Many stories about family and motherhood and so many other things. I love love Tsim Tsum and still think the short story might be the best format for Mark's writing because she can keep the wild turns turning wildly for even longer. Do recommend.
If you want biting, poignant, and wonderfully baffling short stories, many of which blur the line between poetry and prose, you've come to the right collection. Stories don't need linear time or expected narrative arc to succeed, and Sabrina Orah Mark proves this with characters seated in wildness, indecision, and desperation. Even if you don't love fiction that resists convention, I think you will be happily surprised. Give it a try. I dare you.
I don’t know what to say about this book. It was like pulling teeth for me to finish this, but I was determined to finish it. I don’t think I am the intended audience for this type of book, but I really don’t know who the intended audience is. I was so confused the entire time and it was incredibly frustrating for me to read this book or poems or short stories or whatever you wanna call this. I regret spending time on this because I really have nothing good to say. The stories are fantasies that make no sense, but was that the point????
This book is complicated. At first, I didn't understand it and just found it to be nonsense. But then I read on, and it started to click a little better.
If you read this book on a surface-level, all you'll find is nonsense and have no idea what to make of it. I found the best way to enjoy this book was to treat each story as if someone was describing a dream they had to me. None of the things that were happening needed to make sense, or needed to have a consequence. Babies are left outside, lovers cheat on their spouses directly in front of them, but none of it matters. What matters, as in dreams, is what you make of it. And just like in dreams, you'll never know what the true meaning is, but in the end, none of that matters at all.
Lucky for me a funny and strange book found me: Sabrina Orah Mark’s Wild Milk, a collection of 24 very short stories published by Dorothy Project. Mark’s stories follow a dream logic and explore familial relationships and domesticity. In these stories a mother has 9 sons who suddenly become 9 daughters, a woman marries poems and a child on a playground bullies her, and taxmen arrive to the house for a father’s heart. Suppose that magic, dreams, and humor offer a way out of trauma, or a way through it. If this is true, then Wild Milk is required reading for terrifying times.
I liked the fun-house mirror quality of this book--in its content, but also in the poetics of the prose. The images and words tend to loop back in strange, exciting ways. The stories are thoughtful and quirky (in a Donald Barthelme sort of way), but usually have a sudden deepening that is satisfying and grounding. Beautifully poetic, playful, and deep, each story left me with an excitement, an exploration into new territory of what fiction can do.