childofmongreldogs's review against another edition
3.0
A pretty average selection of stories, imo. I enjoyed Smith's prose, but I think his actual story telling leaves something to be desired.
Usually with weird stories, I'll feel an attachment to the characters but rarely did I feel this way reading this collection. A lot of the tension in the arc of the story ended up going nowhere for me.
Usually with weird stories, I'll feel an attachment to the characters but rarely did I feel this way reading this collection. A lot of the tension in the arc of the story ended up going nowhere for me.
rubyduvall's review
1.0
DNF. But if you like your stories subtly contemptuous of fidelity and overly obsessed with women but only for their potential for sexual gratification to a male narrator, then this book might be for you.
In the first three short stories, all from the perspectives of different male narrators, the author describes a nonwhite woman with the word "exotic"—which is not only othering but is also repetitive.
I did like the fourth story about a widower finally realizing that he needs to do housework that he formerly left up to his wife. The narrative weaves in a story about what makes up house dust, and uses it to suggest that the dust in his house still has traces of his wife, even if her ultimate "manifestation" in the story is horrific.
But then the fifth story of a man whose been married for 20 years begins, and he lays blame for his discontent (and his "indiscretions") on his wife for not fucking him often enough. That they have a routine makes him think of the adage "familiarity breeds contempt," and I closed the book in disgust at that.
Overall, I wished the stories I did read had done more to ground the characters. In a couple, the male narrators are simply living their lives and the horror that slips in does so without any thematic or metaphoric relationship. To put it simply with my own made-up example, "John is worried about losing his job. We'll talk about that for four pages and slip in references to a 'headache.' The morning of his annual performance review, he wakes up to find he now has the head of a horse. The end." Like, where is this horror coming from? How does it relate to the character's actions or their existential dread or ANYTHING? Honestly, the reason I liked (not loved, LIKED) the widower story was because it at least tied into SOMETHING else in the narrative. (Caveat: the first story about a drug addict cheating on his doormat of a girlfriend and turning into a literal monster does at least make metaphorical sense.)
In the first three short stories, all from the perspectives of different male narrators, the author describes a nonwhite woman with the word "exotic"—which is not only othering but is also repetitive.
I did like the fourth story about a widower finally realizing that he needs to do housework that he formerly left up to his wife. The narrative weaves in a story about what makes up house dust, and uses it to suggest that the dust in his house still has traces of his wife, even if her ultimate "manifestation" in the story is horrific.
But then the fifth story of a man whose been married for 20 years begins, and he lays blame for his discontent (and his "indiscretions") on his wife for not fucking him often enough. That they have a routine makes him think of the adage "familiarity breeds contempt," and I closed the book in disgust at that.
Overall, I wished the stories I did read had done more to ground the characters. In a couple, the male narrators are simply living their lives and the horror that slips in does so without any thematic or metaphoric relationship. To put it simply with my own made-up example, "John is worried about losing his job. We'll talk about that for four pages and slip in references to a 'headache.' The morning of his annual performance review, he wakes up to find he now has the head of a horse. The end." Like, where is this horror coming from? How does it relate to the character's actions or their existential dread or ANYTHING? Honestly, the reason I liked (not loved, LIKED) the widower story was because it at least tied into SOMETHING else in the narrative. (Caveat: the first story about a drug addict cheating on his doormat of a girlfriend and turning into a literal monster does at least make metaphorical sense.)
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