In Bud and Sis, two adopted children set out to find their real parents, descending into obsession, incest, and murder; and in Be My Guest, a young woman rescues a boy who claims to be an adult trapped in a man's body.
Rachel Ingalls grew up in Cambridge, Massachusetts. She held various jobs, from theatre dresser and librarian to publisher’s reader. She was a confirmed radio and film addict and started living in London in 1965. She authored several works of fiction—most notably Mrs. Caliban—published in both the United States and the United Kingdom.
I am making my way through Ingall’s backlist, and this is a treat of two novellas. In the first two adopted siblings reckon with their relationship to each other and their “parents” both adopted and biological, and it’s surprisingly modern with its overall stances on adoption.
The second I’ll be thinking about more. Sandra is a young woman who, while at her aunts house, is visited by a boy claiming to have swapped bodies with his “son.” This is such an interesting psychological puzzle and Ingalls steers it brilliantly.
I am always awed by her ability to be simplistic and devastating—often in the same thought.
I am deeply impressed by Ingalls' talent for weaving a tapestry of menace beneath the banality of every-day life. For me, these two tales lacked satisfying endings, but the journey made me feel like I was cresting the hill of a roller-coaster. These are definitely stories from which the craft of writing should be taught.
I really enjoyed these two little twisted stories. Not super creepy but enough of a psychological bent to make you feel a bit uncomfortable. I liked the easy flow and style of writing that let you cruise through the stories with ease.
The first story about Alma and Bruce, adoptive siblings who eventually find their real parents, is truly a tragedy although it doesn't necessarily tug at your heart strings. It has a macabre element of a short story and makes you just want to hang your head and shake it.
The second story about Sandra falling in love extremely quickly and agreeing to marry a man she hardly knows is somewhat baffling. You just want to knock some sense into Sandra, who seems to be living in some alternative reality and can't grasp reality. The son in the story, Eric, is also quite creepy. Until the very end you really aren't sure exactly what is going to happen and you're almost left with a bit of a cliff-hanger.
"It didn't occur to her that the whole question of being a sister or a lover, having a real parent and an adoptive parent, feeling love or desire or friendship, was one that could be with her all her life and to which there might not be an answer." p. 17 "Her footsteps echoed in the empty building. She thought how strange sound was: a voice or a step could be soft, yet the effect of it was to touch everything. Even a breath could be heard, if you were listening for it, from one end of a building to the other." p. 63
"That was the trick to real life: you could walk through fire for each other and still end up wishing you'd never married." p. 110
"The statue hadn't changed; she had. She liked that idea even less than the thought of being wrong. If you weren't what you were, what were you? Who were you?" p. 152
"Men never try to make a marriage go. It's unfair to expect them to. They have other interests. They like comfort, but they also like novelty. Almost as fickle as boys: suddenly they're off and away to something new." p. 218
I was leery of this one, because I wanted to like Mrs Caliban so much more than I actually did in the end. With tempered expectations, I fell into the first novella in this collection and loved it—was completely blown away. The emotions and characters felt so clear and realized, and the swift prose glided along beautifully. The second novella did nothing for me, but the first is so good!
A bit macabre, difficult for me to find closure with. That's probably a large part of its draw and the author's intention but still uncomfortable in its outcome. Both novellas have that aspect; they're painfully mundane while simultaneously unreal, bizarre.