Issue 2: Review of Pet (not that one)
Welcome to the second ever issue of Scuttlebook!
This issue features a republication of one of my older book reviews; part of my kaupapa of bringing to your attention some gems you might have missed. (When I say gems I'm referring to the books in question, not the sparkling excellence of my own prose.) Scroll to the end for my hot take on this year's Ockham NZ Book Awards.
What review is this?
This is my review of Pet – not the novel by Catherine Chidgey, which I haven’t read, but the collection of short stories by Kathryn van Beek that came out in 2020. I’m sharing it here because the mental image it gave me of a possum corpse styled as Jacinda Ardern has really stayed with me.
How I came to review Pet
This review was commissioned by Eleanor Black, then my editor at the NZ Herald, in exchange for the princely sum of one hundred of your Earth dollars. It was published in Canvas on 5 September 2020 [$]. Republished here with permission.
Here’s my review
Pet, the new collection of self-published short stories from Pākehā author Kathryn van Beek, manages to be both charming and brutal. I laughed out loud at the first story, about an emotional support ferret who causes chaos when she gets loose on an aeroplane. But then the ferret dies, crushed by her anxious owner who is undergoing IVF. The darkness and the humour twist around one another. Van Beek does not allow the reader to have one without the other.
Each story is apparently themed around a pet, with accompanying illustration. But as I read I began to understand that the real theme underlying these stories was not pets but dead babies.
Pet is dedicated to Wilhelmina Elizabeth Armstrong “who was never born”, and this sense of grieving those who might have been haunts the pukapuka. Van Beek seems determined to explore all the ways in which reproduction and parenting can go painfully wrong: infertility, miscarriage, post-partum psychosis, eerily lifelike dolls, ghost babies, starving babies, murdered babies – even a rogue AI entering the soul of an unborn baby. The babies who survive to be children are still up against it: in “The Nor’wester” three children are living in fear of their abusive father, until one day they lure him gradually deeper out to sea and watch him drown.
Despite this bleakness – or rather, hand in hand with it – Pet is also very funny, employing an unmistakeably Kiwi humour. I was particularly entertained by “Best-Dressed Possum”, set at a school fair that is running a competition in which the corpses of possums are dressed up as celebrities. Local single mother Devon has hers on ice: “Last year had been unseasonably hot.” The entries are hilariously grotesque: “Possum Diana was accessorised with a pearl choker, Jacinda Furrdern sported a set of fake teeth and MAGA had a red tie and a giant hairpiece of teased wool.” Devon has put together a Hugh Hefner dead possum with “two rabbit carcasses, each dressed in lace … Hugh and his Bunnies.” But not everyone is following the rules:
an elderly man [was] holding a stiff cat dressed like a rugby player. ‘Sorry mate,’ said Pete. ‘Beautiful job, but I can’t accept a cat … You can’t be seen to be shooting people’s pets.’ The elderly man tucked the cat under his Swanndri and shuffled off, swearing under his breath.
The climax of the story comes when an interfering middle-class urbanite cops a banoffee pie in the face. It’s a slapstick moment but there’s still a thread of wrongness and loss, as Devon and her kids “of uncertain pedigree” are subtly made to feel unwelcome by their neighbours.
Pet – which is available in print and as a free podcast from Otago Access Radio – casts an unflinching but also tender light on the kinds of private griefs that often go unacknowledged. I highly recommend it.
(I make no commission on this sadly)
My relationships with the author and publisher
As I mentioned last time, I'm going to contextualise each review with a note on any relevant pre-existing relationships I have (especially any financial relationships), so that you can (a) see how intertwined the book world is, and (b) judge for yourself how this affects what I say.
At the time of reviewing in 2020 I had no relationship with either Kathryn van Beek or Mary Egan Publishing, although I’ve since learned that Kathryn had previously attended one of my conference talks. A few years later Kathryn and I met up for a chat because she was interested in potentially getting me to publicise her interactive fiction, although that didn’t end up working out. Last year Mary Egan Publishing hired me to run a publicity campaign for one of their books.
Quick note on terminology: I’ve referred to Mary Egan Publishing as the publisher but it would be more accurate to describe them as a publishing services provider, since under their business model the author foots the bill. (Under the traditional publishing model, the publisher covers all costs and pays the author.) That is why in my review I describe Pet as self-published; albeit to a high professional standard.
Recent review
Earlier this month I was on RNZ Nine to Noon reviewing another excellent collection of short stories, this one from Wellington publishing house Tender Press.
My next review
I’m currently writing my review of Sarah Johnson’s YA novel Not A Babe for The Sapling, a website devoted to local children’s literature.
Current leisure read
I’m part-way through The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity by David Graeber and David Wengrow, and I am finding the calm way the authors tackle such immense scope very soothing. As a person with a chronic illness, I spend a lot of my time mired in the minutiae of exactly what I can manage to do today, which pills to take when, etc. So it’s a profound relief to take refuge in the vast sweep of human history, which at this point I’m conceptualising as millennia upon millennia of ancestors getting up to shenanigans and slowly inventing cheese. I borrowed the library’s hardback copy and its sheer size is also very reassuring.
Word to the wise
Huia Publishers are having an archive sale with 50%–70% off a range of titles. If I had to pick one I'd say go for Black Ice Matter by Gina Cole which is down to $21 from $30. They also have heaps of great kids' books.
Sad Ockhams face
I was gutted that Hoods Landing by Laura Vincent didn't win the big fiction prize at the national book awards last night. It's a superb debut novel from new indie publishing house Āporo Press and I recommend it highly. I reviewed it last year on RNZ Nine to Noon.
Next issue of Scuttlebook
Next month's issue will comprise my review of a local book that I thought wasn't very good. As this is a negative review, it will be behind the paywall, so you’ll have to purchase a paid subscription if you want to read it.