literature, read, 2024, top24, umich, library, 1980s, 20th, us ( )

I sort of hesitated between 3 or 4 stars. Basically I liked it quite a lot all the way to the ending, I recognised the ending is the "correct" ending structurally and everything... but I still wanted a different ending, and not just cause it's sad.

Like, if you have the courage to write a book about a woman's relationship with a frog person, you've got to see it through. Don't end it on the frogman disappearing from her life because it's very appropriately parallel with her relationship with her husband and he disappears at the moment she's emotionally affected by her husband more than frogman Yes, that works literarily, but why the hell not go further? Just have the frogman live with her forever. Or have a coda where she takes him back to his home, even if it's still sad because her husband's death estranged her from frogman. Just. Justice for frogman Frogman had a story too, and he deserved an ending.

But again... it feels like the "right" ending, structurally. I expected it. And there's depth to it - the language and image links back to other parts of Dorothy's life discussed in the book (most notably her dead dog Bingo). Like I know it's right, that it's a well written ending... but still. There's a childish part of me that wanted to see the frogman more. I mean. In a way I guess that's the point. Agh. I guess it's probably a 4, really. ( )

Unique story of an unhappy marriage. A wife falls in love with a (self created?) creature to replace her husband. Interestingly, the creature disappears the moment the husbands dies. ( )

Here we have a book about an unhappy housewife in a miserable marriage who finds passion and purpose when she has an affair. But let's break that down a bit... This unhappy housewife, Dorothy, is unhappy because she's married to, but estranged from, a serial philanderer who largely ignores her and takes her for granted. She has lost a child and a dog. She lives a beige existence where nothing particularly interesting ever really happens. Her best friend is a me-monster who leans heavily and gives little.

And then Larry walks into her life, literally. He wanders into her home and stands before her... A towering frogman with overwhelming sex appeal who has escaped from a science lab where he was being experimented on and is on the run for the murder of two abusive lab employees.

Well, of course she takes Larry in. She hides Larry away in her guest room and feeds him amazing salads and a LOT of avocados. He helps around the house and is a caring and generous friend.

They commence an affair and spend time together screwing in every room of the house and under the cloak of night go swimming at the beach, frolicking through rich people's gardens, holding hands, dressing Larry up in wigs and glasses, and teaching him to drive. Dorothy's life changes overnight and she is finally alive and energised.

Other stuff happens, too, but it is all written so matter of factly despite the fantastical nature of the story that it feels perfectly normal.

Is Larry the amphibious man real or a necessary figment of her imagination created to soothe the desperate loneliness and pointlessness of her bland existence? Who gives a shit? This is a marvellous, wondrous story of love, revenge, and validation. ( )

This book is not monster erotica. The sex scenes are devoid of nervous systems and are presented as objective events without a single nerve end sparking, not a single drop of sweat: “They went swimming together and then made love on the beach” (59). Why?

The story begins with Dorothy (the central character) hearing “special voices [that] . . . had a soft, close, dreamlike quality” (6). We learn of her recent trauma and soon the monster appears: “She was as surprised and shocked as if she had heard an explosion and seen her own shattered legs go flying across the floor” (19). This surreal image characterizes the reality portrayed throughout the novel. What’s fascinating is Ingalls’ narrative point of view. Pulling just back from full omniscience, the reader is left to discern Dorothy’s reality and how trauma has pushed her into a protracted nerve-deadening delusion ( )