In the Dream House: A Memoir (edizione 2019)

When Carmen Maria Machado was getting her MFA at Iowa City, she was also involved in an abusive relationship that she writes about here. The conceit is that every chapter -- ranging in length from a single paragraph to several pages -- is set in a specific genre or trope, so one chapter is "The Dream House as Unreliable Narrator" and another is "The Dream House as Choose Your Own Adventure." It's an effective way of pulling together a narrative that isn't too difficult to read, given the subject matter. Machado has researched ideas and themes that appear in fairy tales and folk tales and pulled them in to illustrate the ways in which the abuse manifested and in her response. Machado is also looking at the history of domestic abuse among women and how that differs from and imitates the more familiar partner violence in heterosexual relationships.

This could be a heavy book and a sad one, but Machado is so brilliant and her mind is so active and eager to seek out connections and ideas that I had to consciously slow down my reading. And Machado's story doesn't remain one characterized by uncertainty and turmoil. ( )

Remarkable - both the telling of the tale and the craft. ( )

[b:In the Dream House|43317482|In the Dream House|Carmen Maria Machado|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1547869259l/43317482._SX50_.jpg|65787792] is a memoir with a twist - the author eschews a linear narrative in favor of a second person examination of her abusive relationship. It is an excellent framing device, though the content sometimes fails to measure up to the form. The work is strong when the author focuses on her relationship but less so when she attempts to ground her relationship in the broader conversation about abuse in lesbian relationships. Not quite a must-read but very close. ( )

What a beautiful, ugly, funny, heart-rending book this is.

Once again, I stepped way outside of my comfort zone, and once again, I've been rewarded greatly for doing so. Carmen Maria Machado has delivered an important piece of work, part memoir, part queer resource, but mostly a terribly uncomfortable insider's view to a horrifyingly abusive relationship.

I don't care what race you are, your religion, or your sexual preference...if you aren't moved by Machado's story, then you're either a rock...or you're part of the problem.

Everyone should read this. Those in abusive relationships should read it, to understand that it can get better. Those struggling with their sexuality should read it, to understand that it can get better. Those who don't understand, or in the words of Machado's aunt, don't "believe" in gays, should read it, because maybe they'd begin to understand that we're all just human underneath all those labels. Those that abuse should read it, with the hope that it may spark what little piece of humanity and empathy you may still harbour, and realize what a destructive thing you are doing.

This book. Just read it. ( )

"Sometimes your tongue is removed, sometimes you still it of your own accord. Sometimes you live, sometimes you die. Sometimes you have a name, sometimes you are named for what-not who-you are. The story looks a little different, depending on who is telling it.....But the truth is, anyone who knows your name can break you in two."

This book was phenomenal, in its' structure, its' theme, and it's prose. In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado gave us a masterpiece of metaphor. It is unlike anything I have read before.

This house will haunt me forever but it also illuminated the need for action on behalf of victims. Machado writes about the "archival silence" in queer stories and about the erasure of queer lesbian domestic abuse.

She attempts to scream past the void & fill in the blanks for all who will dare to do more than observe what is happening. She uses the house to resurrect her experiences as a domestic violence survivor and takes you on a haunting journey recounting and attempting to find meaning in what happened to her. She dares you to look deeply and push past the gender ordinary that seeks to normalize and sympathize with the abuser's actions.

Reading this book was a visceral experience. It felt like I was peering into the house as a haunted, abusive tale played out. Each room added more horror and with each new experience my anxiety grew. My stomach was in knots. I wanted it to be over but I also couldn't stop looking in at the same time. I would shout warnings whenever I saw the red flags and I was on edge worrying about what worse event could come next. This house literally gives you a representation of the cycle of lesbian domestic abuse and how the red flags can easily be hidden within the walls. This novel dismantles the idea of safe houses and puts forth the narrative that houses are only safe for those that control them and hold the power. It also reminds us that looks can be deceiving.

Machado writes "The memoir is, at its core, an act of resurrection." This novel does just that. It attempts to bring life to the pieces of herself that she thought had long been dead. Read this book because someone out there needs you to see them ( )