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A review by 20somethingspinster
Mostly Dead Things by Kristen Arnett
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
reflective
slow-paced
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Jessa-Lyn Mortan has spent her whole life in the same small Florida Town, drinking the same cheap gas station coffee, working at her father’s taxidermy shop, and loving the same woman, her childhood best friend who also happens to be her brother’s wife. (Yeah, it’s messy.) But her father’s sudden suicide sends Jessa spiraling into what can only be described as a second adolescence. As the book switches back and forth between Jessa’s present "adult" life and memories of her childhood, we see the two are not so different. What separates them most is the presence of her mother.
In her memories, Jessa’s mother is only mentioned in passing as she mends Jessa’s jeans, bakes pies, or performs other banal domestic duties. But in the present moment, she is a chaotic force of nature, creating lewd sculptures from her husband’s old taxidermy that "highlight the similarities between sex acts in the animals kingdom and those in modern suburbia," or so she says. When local art collector, Lucinda Rex, takes an interest in Jessa...and her mother’s work, things get even more complicated, as Jessa navigates her romantic feelings for Lucinda and her efforts to sabotage her mother’s art show to protect her father’s memory.
What results from this strange cast of emotionally damaged characters is a story of love, loss, and letting go. Just like her taxidermy, Jessa tries to manipulate and pose the past into a still image she can mount on the wall of her mind and admire forever. But this comes at the expense of her present and future as the people around her desire to change and grow while remains as rigid and cold as the corpses she works with. Arnett’s masterful writing illustrates the complexity of grief and "coming of age." While at times the pacing felt as sluggish as the Florida heat, and the ending wrapped up a little too neatly, the story’s heart and voice more than made up for these minor faults.
In her memories, Jessa’s mother is only mentioned in passing as she mends Jessa’s jeans, bakes pies, or performs other banal domestic duties. But in the present moment, she is a chaotic force of nature, creating lewd sculptures from her husband’s old taxidermy that "highlight the similarities between sex acts in the animals kingdom and those in modern suburbia," or so she says. When local art collector, Lucinda Rex, takes an interest in Jessa...and her mother’s work, things get even more complicated, as Jessa navigates her romantic feelings for Lucinda and her efforts to sabotage her mother’s art show to protect her father’s memory.
What results from this strange cast of emotionally damaged characters is a story of love, loss, and letting go. Just like her taxidermy, Jessa tries to manipulate and pose the past into a still image she can mount on the wall of her mind and admire forever. But this comes at the expense of her present and future as the people around her desire to change and grow while remains as rigid and cold as the corpses she works with. Arnett’s masterful writing illustrates the complexity of grief and "coming of age." While at times the pacing felt as sluggish as the Florida heat, and the ending wrapped up a little too neatly, the story’s heart and voice more than made up for these minor faults.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Suicide and Sexual content