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256 pages, Hardcover
First published July 20, 2021
“How many generations of women had delayed their greatness only to have time extinguish it completely? How many women had run out of time while the men didn’t know what to do with theirs? And what a mean trick to call such things holy or selfless. How evil to praise women for giving up each and every dream.”I absolutely loved this book. You're going to see all kinds of genres linked to this book, but just know it's a love note to all the women who have lost themselves. The women who have been squeezed dry by their roles because of how this world works and where it places its value. Rachel Yoder sees you.
And this performance is meant to underscore the brutality and power and darkness of motherhood, for modern motherhood has been neutered and sanitized. We are at base animals, and to deny us either our animal nature or our dignity as humans is a crime against existence. Womanhood and motherhood are perhaps the most potent forces in human society, which of course men have been hasty to quash, for they are right to fear these forces.
Her undergraduate degree was from a prestigious university, better than the one he had attended. She held two master’s degrees, whereas he held none. (She also held a baby.)
It shouldn’t have been a contest, and it wasn’t, was it? No, definitely not. She would never think of her husband in such competitive terms, but she did fault herself for choosing such an impractical field as studio art.
How many generations of women had delayed their greatness only to have time extinguish it completely? How many women had run out of time while the men didn’t know what to do with theirs? And what a mean trick to call such things holy or selfless. How evil to praise women for giving up each and every dream.
Here was a woman who now knew that life unfolded through mystery and metaphor, without explanation, who looked upon her perfect son in front of her, a person she had made with her strongest magic, standing right there in a blinding spotlight as if he weren’t a miracle, as if he weren’t the most impossible thing in the entire world.
The retriever outplayed the others, a beautiful sight to behold as she leapt in the air, ears alert and eyes bright, to snag a ball midair with her teeth. …. After the boy had tired of fetch, the retriever came to where the mother sat on the porch steps and placed her head gently on the mother’s leg. The mother …the retriever’s long silky blond hair, softer than any she’d ever felt, as if it had been shampooed and conditioned, then blowdried and brushed lovingly. ……… What a good, pretty, perfect dog.
This must be what it means to be an animal, to look at another and say, I am so much that other thing that we are part of one another. Here is my skin. Here yours. Beneath the moon, we pile inside the warm cave, becoming one creature to save our warmth. We breathe together and dream together. This is how it has always been and how it will continue to be. We keep each other alive through an unbroken lineage of togetherness.
She had once been a girl, then a woman, a bride, expectant, a mother, and now she would be this, whatever this was. A wild, complicated woman with strange yearnings. Stubborn and angry - soft and sweet, though, too. She was creator and then also the dark force that roamed the night. She was part high-minded intention and part instinct, raw flight.
Hello, she wanted to say to him. I am your wife. I am a woman. I am this animal. I have become everything. I am new and also ancient, I have been ashamed but will be no more.
I want to run naked through a meadow and catch a rabbit and snap its neck and then rip its throat open and drink the warm blood from the wound and
I want to tell the truth
I want to hump legs
I want to chase horses around a barnyard and make them whinny and kick up dust
I want to be in a church choir and wear a robe but instead of singing I just howl all my hymn notes loud as I can
I want to never brush my hair ever again
I want to wear the same linen dress for a year
I want to stink!
I want to run and run and run into the cornfields all the way to a stream and then follow it to the ocean - I'm sorry, but I'm not coming back - and I want to have very, very passionate sex with a stranger and I want to sit on a fully decorated cake without underwear and I want to perform a large anonymous act of extreme vandalism and I want to be an artist and a woman and a mother I mean a monster I want to be a monster.