A stunning memoir told in true Machado fashion—part horror, all innovation. Machado studies her former relationship with an abusive partner in slices of genre that captivate from the start, and she does not slow down. There were times while reading I had to pause to underline something, or paused to breathe, or felt tears welling up. Machado sincerely lays out the genuine trauma of being in an abusive relationship while queer, and how little representation and resources there are for such relationships in literature and society. She aims to fill a void, and I can't help but think how difficult it must have been to write this, and revisit a painful (yet forming) time in one's life. Machado also manages to telegraph something so often difficult to describe: emotional, non-physical abuse. She relays its insidiousness so well and with such creeping tension, and I understood in those moments why she chose to tell her story in this way. Thank you, Machado.

Of course, I am going to quote from Machado's chapter entitled "Dream House as an Exercise in Point of View." You know me.

"You were not always just a You. I was whole—a symbiotic relationship between my best and worst parts—and then, in one sense of the definition, I was cleaved: a neat lop that took first person—that assured, confident woman, the girl detective, the adventurer—away from second, who was always anxious and vibrating like a too-small breed of dog."

She is one of my favorite working authors; I pre-ordered this book based on how much I loved her collection HER BODY AND OTHER PARTIES, and I imagine I will be pre-ordering her books until the end of time.