“Aino believes herself an oracle, a conduit for the magical and the strange, and she believes this not with the lunatic conviction of a man who swears he’s seen aliens…”
A loving svelteness upon svelteness, strange as angels, this is so tantalising, in the end you are indeed left with nothing but that very guesswork, or a “feral Mona Lisa”. ….’subsumed by your gravity’, ‘a loose-stitched patchwork of intuition, of little stories and guesswork’. Loneliness is another woman’s living with nothing but a ‘taciturn husband’ and ‘wild beasts’… Until you realise you are perhaps Sadie’s sapphic svelte better half? Or you are that shape-shifter the men wish to protect Sadie from? A temporary car accident and then a stowaway whom Sadie calls you as ‘you’, and you wonder if you are another foundling child as metamorphosis (rather than the slow-motion pausing of evolution) as depicted in the VHL and the SS stories, and the word ‘cocoon’ is actually used in this text about you, so as to make that link stronger.
Thirst and desert and coyotes are cursors, and avoiding men’s advances, who pretend to protect her from roaming critters. This is the story of young Sadie, told in her own words, where dryness means rain pent up awaiting almost forever for its sudden convulsion of spilling, beyond any pausing. And Alison Moore – Kuder: “They’ve forgotten to be afraid …” …which seems to embrace this whole book so far, ever paused at this moment of Zeno’s Paradox and metamorphosed Tontine. “ it seemed that the world had stopped without warning and curled in on itself, interminably paused,…” I reviewed the first story in April 2017, in its then context, as follows…
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