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A review by themermaddie
Mostly Dead Things by Kristen Arnett
4.0
this is a gut-punch of a novel. i went into this expecting maybe a quirky story about death and comedy, but this book is far from funny. raw, grief-laden, and beautifully written, this family drama is stuffed to the brim with unspoken secrets and repressed emotion.
the taxidermy described in this book is so vivid and grotesque but also filled with aching tenderness as if to say, look at the beauty there is in dead things and the horror in the living. the descriptions here are truly A Lot and might put you off if you're not a fan of gore, regardless of how clinically it's described. personally i loved it, this book is gross and visceral and full of bodily fluids, it's messy and spilling over with the guts of everyone involved. the repression amidst the florida heat creates an oppressive atmosphere, thick and hard to breathe.
jessa's father's absence has created an emotional blackhole into which their whole family has fallen, and the book is made up of the present day and flashbacks to her childhood, slowly deconstructing the idealised image of her father through her mother's grief and her deteriorating relationship with her brother. all their relationships to each other are so fucked up and strange, like they are all disjointed fragments of a puzzle that might have once fitted together. i think the ending represents a step towards reconciling the type of family intimacy they all deserve, but i'm not quite so convinced of jessa's change of heart. i think, for a book so deeply entrenched in peeling back the layers of a mostly dead thing, i was anticipating a bit more catharsis for the protagonist. jessa's repression doesn't feel like something that can be slowly improved upon, rather she needed to hit a breaking point, and it just didn't feel severe enough here for her to have a change of heart. on that note, i really did love her conversations with milo and her mother.
also i think the title is really clever, simple but also a little bit of a double entendre! sure to stick in my mind. quiet, debilitating, grief-stricken, this book is introspective and healing, even while it's up to its elbows in viscera.
the taxidermy described in this book is so vivid and grotesque but also filled with aching tenderness as if to say, look at the beauty there is in dead things and the horror in the living. the descriptions here are truly A Lot and might put you off if you're not a fan of gore, regardless of how clinically it's described. personally i loved it, this book is gross and visceral and full of bodily fluids, it's messy and spilling over with the guts of everyone involved. the repression amidst the florida heat creates an oppressive atmosphere, thick and hard to breathe.
jessa's father's absence has created an emotional blackhole into which their whole family has fallen, and the book is made up of the present day and flashbacks to her childhood, slowly deconstructing the idealised image of her father through her mother's grief and her deteriorating relationship with her brother. all their relationships to each other are so fucked up and strange, like they are all disjointed fragments of a puzzle that might have once fitted together. i think the ending represents a step towards reconciling the type of family intimacy they all deserve, but i'm not quite so convinced of jessa's change of heart. i think, for a book so deeply entrenched in peeling back the layers of a mostly dead thing, i was anticipating a bit more catharsis for the protagonist. jessa's repression doesn't feel like something that can be slowly improved upon, rather she needed to hit a breaking point, and it just didn't feel severe enough here for her to have a change of heart. on that note, i really did love her conversations with milo and her mother.
also i think the title is really clever, simple but also a little bit of a double entendre! sure to stick in my mind. quiet, debilitating, grief-stricken, this book is introspective and healing, even while it's up to its elbows in viscera.