by Corrine Watson
September 12, 2023
Corrine Watson is a freelance writer and editor based in Charlotte, NC, and a past Reviews Editor for West Trade Review. Her work has appeared in Wretched Creations, the Southern Review of Books and F(r)iction. Follow her on Twitter @CorrineWatson6.
Her Body Among Animals by Paola Ferrante; Book*hug Press; 240 pages; $23.00
Paola Ferrante’s striking speculative short story collection Her Body Among Animals dives into the darkness that exists within the domestic spaces where women often find themselves trapped. In these eleven stories, Ferrante utilizes elements of magical realism to draw attention to the universal struggles these women face, from abusive relationships, motherhood, and self-discovery separate from the needs of others. And throughout the collection there is a sense of transformation as these women let go of the people and expectations that have been holding them back from pursuing their own desires and prioritizing their own well-being.
Ferrante draws the reader into the intimate spaces of relationships and pulls at their frayed ends as we watch them unravel. The women in these stories feel stifled by their male partners, who are, at best, mediocre as they fail to provide emotional support and dismiss the interests and needs of their partners, and at worst, their actions escalate to domestic abuse. This abuse is seen most clearly in “A Trick of the Dark,” which dips into magical realism as an abusive partner's rage transforms him into a dragon. Ferrante writes, “Then his tongue flicks, and it can’t be him. It is impossible. It is a giant lizard with scales, claws digging into my arm. It has an alligator jaw, a tail that knocks over the table, spilling our beer and the rest of the bagels he got up early to buy for breakfast.” From the beginning, it is clear that the narrator is in denial about the abuse, and this disassociation makes the surreal elements of the story stand out as they’re blended with the harsh reality of the narrator’s situation. The surreal elements of dissociation continue in “Among Chameleons and Other Shades” as Maddie’s shadow disconnects from her body to tend to her boyfriend in ways that she would have early in their relationship before they started having problems. And as she watches her shadow take on more autonomy, she begins to consider whether she’s ever been in full control of her own life as she wonders “how many things had she done or not done because of a boy? Maybe it had been easier to see herself like boys saw her, a shadowy figure hovering in the background, undefined unless in reflection of their well-defined selves.” Even in “Mermaid Girls,” the narrator reflects on her mother’s choice to abandon her family in pursuit of her own interests because “she used to be a girl alone in the dark staring up at celestial bodies in the night sky, until she ended up staring into the pools of our father’s eyes.” While the implication that marriage is a black hole is less overt than the transformation of a hot tempered man into a dragon, Ferrante’s surreal depiction of these relationships never feels overblown because it captures the ways women are expected to suppress their desires to accommodate others. And perhaps it is easier to imagine running from a dragon or fighting your way out of a black hole than to end a relationship.
Utilizing the removed perspective of an AI girlfriend robot to highlight the toxicity of a couple’s relationship, “When Foxes Die Electric” proposes the concept of an artificial perfect woman through the design of a man to fulfill sexual desire in stark contrast to his human wife, Sophie. As the couple becomes more distant, Ferrante sprinkles in facts about the animal kingdom that continue throughout the collection. These diversions stand out in the ways she highlights defense mechanisms in the presence of predators which overtly seem to be metaphors for the men in these stories. When Sophie’s husband accuses her of playing possum to avoid sex, she deflects with more facts about animal behaviors, like how “the female moorland hawker dragonfly plays dead to avoid mating,” and how “arctic foxes only play dead to avoid predators.” This altercation works in the way Sophie is using these facts to subvert the conversation and emotional connection to her husband she wants to have outside of sex, while it becomes clear that her husband’s disinterest illustrates his selfish desire to have his needs met without meeting her half way. There is a satisfying sense of justice or relief at the end of these stories as the women, who were stifled in the throes of their relationship, find clarity and the strength to prioritize their own well-being by making their desires known, or giving themselves the freedom to let go of unhealthy relationships and expectations. We see this in “Among Chameleons and Other Shades” as Maddie stands her ground and refuses to follow her boyfriend on an expedition to live on Mars. As she finds her strength, she notes that “a chameleon becomes more visible, turning bright red, when the lizard makes up her mind to fight,” and how the narrator in “A Tick of the Dark” notes that when facing a dragon, you should be like a bird, capable of flight, which suggests that this is the moment she acknowledges that she needs to leave her abuser.
In capturing the domestic spaces women embody, Ferrante also explores the often-stifling elements of motherhood. The mothers in this collection expected their own personal metamorphosis when they had their children, the moment where instinct takes over and they magically know what to do, but are often disappointed to find that they are overwhelmed, ashamed, and terrified of failure. These sentiments are reflected in “Every Horror Show,” as Ferrante aptly captures the portrayal of postpartum depression through a haunting. As the narrator finds herself forgetting basic necessities, spacing out, and perhaps seeing spirits, she’s worried that everyone will see that she’s breaking and therefore, an unfit mother. The other mothers make it look so easy and her often absent husband and mother-in-law offer little support without condescension and judgment and the narrator thinks, “Everything is fine; nothing bad really happened. Your husband says you’re fine, sitting across from you in the living room, offering you a paper bag. There’s no reason to panic (even when the weeping woman is still inside your house), just try to breathe (even when she holds you down on your bed, her weight on top of your chest when you hear your daughter crying in the middle of the afternoon).” The story captures the overwhelming ways depression holds her down in spite of her desire to be a good parent and maintain the illusion that everything is fine, but nothing can improve until she admits that she needs help. “So What if It’s Supposed to Rain,” captures a similar disappointment and feelings of inadequacy as Lil reflects on the birth of her daughter, Yvie. Set in a futuristic, environmental dystopia, motherhood has been optimized, by The Mother, a personal mother robot containing the uploaded consciousnesses of the best mothers meant to direct and course correct for perfect parenting. What stands out is not only the surveillance of the community as well as the AI, but the lack of identity these women are meant to have outside of motherhood. They are “Javier’s mother,” “Roger’s mother,” and “William’s mother” which strips away their individuality and creates a space for shame and judgment as Lil struggles to maintain her relationship with her teenage daughter. As Ferrante draws on elements from the horror or science fiction genres, these stories present a fairly bleak portrayal of motherhood. But it’s clear that these women don’t lack love for their children or the desire to be good parents, rather, Ferrante is able to draw attention to the ways societal expectations and pressure for perfection is a detriment to these mother’s mental health and harms their relationship with their children.
While the stories in Her Body Among Animals perhaps tread familiar narrative grounds in their exploration of relationships and motherhood, Ferrante’s writing maintains its own uniqueness. Ferrante draws on the supernatural and fantastic elements of hauntings, dragons, robots, and sentient shadows while aptly navigating the harsh realities the characters face which makes the collection feel grounded. Although the experiences of the character are familiar, this genre-bending collection offers a refreshing perspective on women in the midst of transformation which plays out in a metaphorical return to nature because a woman who rejects the status quo and prioritizes her own needs is perhaps like a lizard shedding its skin. It’s not pretty or comfortable, but there is a sense of strength and growth that comes across as distinctly human in the ways these characters must face the imperfections in their relationships, society and themselves.
©2023 West Trade Review
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The Metamorphosis of a Woman in Her Body Among Animals by Paola Ferrante
FICTION REVIEW
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