In this scary, funny, and slyly political short story collection, Kate McIntyre conjures a fever dream of contemporary Kansas. Boundaries between fantasy and reality blur, and grotesque acts birth strange progeny. A mother must choose between her children and her personal safety when her husband steadily excavates a moat around their country home, his very own little border wall. A Kansas politician grapples with international notoriety after an accident traps salt miners hundreds of feet underground--in the same salt mine where his brother was murdered. A bigot's newly transplanted liver gives him a taste for upbeat 1980s dance tracks while nudging him toward darker plans. And across several stories, we follow Miriam, a young overachiever hell-bent on leaving her home state who is lured back after college to teach elementary school in a rural community. In Culvert, Kansas, Miriam finds closed mouths and big secrets: the toxic waste storage for the battery factory leaches into the soil; the hog farm waste lagoons have sprung leaks; and her students, at turns psychic, lethargic, and aggressive, might not be human.
I can, objectively, understand why these were good stories. I understand that they're gothic tales. I understand that I could have read the book description a little more closely. I did not however, particularly feel like I enjoyed this collection. I always get excited to read anything set in Kansas, and ultimately reading this collection just reminded me why I don't particularly enjoy literary fiction. Everything feels too bleak and I didn't love that the only remotely non-bleak endings happened outside of the stories or to the one character who "got out" of Kansas. Overall, I'm so used to people ragging on Kansas that I guess I just want to read something that feels like a more nuanced portrayal of the state. I would say that if you want some gothic midwestern short stories, you might look into reading these.
Also I get petty about Western Kansas geography and I feel like there's no way that Culvert can be within reasonable driving distance of Dodge City while also described as "down the road" from Goodland or for Miriam to have driven through Colby to get to Culvert.
This book could not have come at a better time for me. It's definitely a read I would recommend to those interested in the dynamics of romantic relationships that are truly toxic, manipulative, and abusive. The writing is very human, and McIntyre does a fantastic job highlighting how trapped one can feel in these situations.
In Mad Prairie, we follow different characters all from the same small rural town, and we see the impact that not having the privilege of viewing healthy relationships growing up can come to affect the children in these scenarios and their future endeavors.
It's interesting how the timeline jumps back and forth and recurring characters pop in and out as it adds a layer of depth since you know more of their own personal backgrounds independently.
(My class got to zoom with McIntyre to talk about connections to liminal space and she is so sweet)
Overall, this book was tedious. I can understand why it was a Flannery O'Connor pick due to the author's desire to create a highly psychological, Gothic narrative, but it lacks the actual depth of an O'Connor story. It didn't feel like the author had anything of real interest to say or share through her characters' experiences and it was only Kansas-related in place name. Nothing about this book was evocative of the place or people of the state and that was really too bad, because it could have added to the atmosphere that it so desperately lacked. "Dark weirdness" isn't so much a style as an affect that this book wielded poorly. In the end, I couldn't wait to get it over with.
While well written I just didn't enjoy the stories. It was interesting being able to visualize several of the places mentioned since it was set in Kansas.
"The horizon swung too low: more sky than anything, and blue blue blue. The deep dark blue of the far flat distance. Here she was bound for the simple life on the prairie she'd always sought without knowing." McIntyre’s 2021 collection of stories and a novella, published by the University of Georgia Press, deserved its recognition of being named in 2022 as a Kansas Notable Book. As a long-time resident of Kansas, I found that her book, while not particularly sympathetic to Kansas, was an engaging piece of literature. I liked the author’s trust in the reader’s ability to connect the dots among the segments of the book. At times poignant, at times macabre; at times sober, at times witty and cheeky; McIntyre, raised in Kansas, takes the reader on a quick tragicomedy ride into a Midwestern landscape. The book deserves a wider audience than what it's likely going to find.