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A review by bellatora
The First Bad Man by Miranda July
1.0
If performance art turned itself into a book, it would be The First Bad Man. That means some people will sit in awe, applauding the brazen, raw energy that they feel pulsing from it. And other people (me) will awkwardly linger by a wall, trying to work up the courage to bolt.
This is the story of Cheryl, a woman who swallows down her feelings so much that she has a psychosomatic injury she calls a "globus hystericus" (I googled it, this is not a real thing. This book is not trying for anything resembling reality, so it doesn't matter, this is all symbolism). Because she can't stand up for herself, her bosses foist upon her their violent, vulnerable young daughter, Clee. Clee is a horror roommate, but her and Cheryl come to some kind of symbiotic relationship when they form a two-woman fight club. It feels incredibly predatory that a 40-something Cheryl begins a relationship with a woman half her age. Especially since for periods of the book Cheryl is acting as a surrogate mother to Clee. But don't worry, Cheryl's long-time crush is the even skeezier, older (60-something) Philip, a literal pedophile and for some reason makes Cheryl be the one to tell him he can have sex with a sixteen year old. It feels like Philip is made to be so predatory to make Cheryl seem innocent by comparison.
Cheryl is also obsessed with a baby she calls Kubelko Bondy - a soul who will appear in different babies and who she feels is "hers."
There are symbols and themes that are worked very clearly and blatantly into this novel - about control, and women being told by society to swallow down their self-expression, and lots of thoughts about gender - that seem to be the actual point of this book. This is not just sound and noise - there are bigger ideas and messages here. But while there were bits and bobs I enjoyed, and while this book had the edges of something that I wanted to explore more, the sheer absurdity of the book just drowned out the bigger ideas at play. Plus, I really, supremely disliked the last half, which almost felt like July splintered an entirely different book into this one. Really, I wish the first half of this book was the entire thing. Cut out the strange therapist-sex-games subplot. Cut it off after the fight club that transitioned to playing out absurd self-defense videos. Cut out Kubelko Bondy. Focus on a woman who forced herself to be passionless and precise and finally allowed herself to be loud and messy. There is a novella in here that I would have enjoyed with all its absurdity. But the longer it went on, the less I liked it.
This is the story of Cheryl, a woman who swallows down her feelings so much that she has a psychosomatic injury she calls a "globus hystericus" (I googled it, this is not a real thing. This book is not trying for anything resembling reality, so it doesn't matter, this is all symbolism). Because she can't stand up for herself, her bosses foist upon her their violent, vulnerable young daughter, Clee. Clee is a horror roommate, but her and Cheryl come to some kind of symbiotic relationship when they form a two-woman fight club. It feels incredibly predatory that a 40-something Cheryl begins a relationship with a woman half her age. Especially since for periods of the book Cheryl is acting as a surrogate mother to Clee. But don't worry, Cheryl's long-time crush is the even skeezier, older (60-something) Philip, a literal pedophile and for some reason makes Cheryl be the one to tell him he can have sex with a sixteen year old. It feels like Philip is made to be so predatory to make Cheryl seem innocent by comparison.
Cheryl is also obsessed with a baby she calls Kubelko Bondy - a soul who will appear in different babies and who she feels is "hers."
Spoiler
Don't worry, of course Cheryl is rewarded with Kubelko Bondy actually appearing in her life in the form of Clee's baby by Philip - and Clee conveniently exits stage left so Cheryl can finally be the full and only figure in Kubelko Bondy's life. Because that seems to be what the book is leading to - Cheryl having the baby she's wanted all her life.There are symbols and themes that are worked very clearly and blatantly into this novel - about control, and women being told by society to swallow down their self-expression, and lots of thoughts about gender - that seem to be the actual point of this book. This is not just sound and noise - there are bigger ideas and messages here. But while there were bits and bobs I enjoyed, and while this book had the edges of something that I wanted to explore more, the sheer absurdity of the book just drowned out the bigger ideas at play. Plus, I really, supremely disliked the last half, which almost felt like July splintered an entirely different book into this one.