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A debut story collection that fuses queer desire, horror, fairy tale, and the surreal into something genuinely new, where women's bodies become haunted houses and the danger is always coming from inside. Wildly inventive and impossible to shake off.
The Review
Every so often a debut arrives that doesn't just announce a talent but seems to expand what the short story can do, and this is one of those books. Across eight stories Machado writes about women's bodies the way horror movies write about old houses: as places where something terrible has been locked in the basement, and where the architecture itself remembers what was done to it. She is interested in desire and dread as the same nerve, and she keeps her hand on it for the length of the collection, refusing to let you settle into the comfort of a single genre or a single tone. Just when you think you have her measured, the floor drops out and you are somewhere stranger.
The opening story, "The Husband Stitch," retells an old campfire legend about a woman with a ribbon around her neck, and braids it with the lived texture of a marriage, an erotic life, a motherhood. It is sensual and frightening at once, and it sets the terms for everything after: bodies that are wanted and feared and never quite believed. "Inventory" catalogs a narrator's lovers as a plague spreads across the country, a list that becomes an elegy almost without your noticing. And "Especially Heinous," the showpiece, recaps twelve seasons of a Law & Order-style crime show in fake episode summaries that spiral into something hallucinatory and grieving. It should not work. It works completely.
What holds it together is a queer interior life rendered without apology or explanation. The women here love women, want women, are haunted by women, and Machado never pauses to translate that for a straight reader, which is exactly why it feels so alive. The eroticism is frank and the tenderness is real, and the horror grows directly out of how dangerous it has always been to live in a body that other people feel entitled to.
The collection is uneven by design, and a couple of the more experimental swings will land harder for some readers than others. "Especially Heinous" in particular asks for patience, and if you bounce off its format you may find yourself wanting back the more grounded mode of the early stories. But that restlessness is also the point. Machado would rather risk a misfire than repeat herself, and even the stories that strain are doing something no one else was attempting at the time. Machado is a writer testing the walls of every room she enters, and even the experiments that strain teach you something about the ones that soar.
Read it for the language, which is gorgeous and exact, and for the rare sensation of a writer inventing her own form in real time. It is scary, sexy, funny, and sad, sometimes within a single paragraph, and it lingers like a dream you are not sure you were supposed to remember.
Reviewed by Avery
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