I received a copy of this book for Christmas last year and read it in my book club recently. I have to say, collective reading of the same text with a troop of insightful people has been my favorite change to 2021. It’s definitely widened my reading experience—making it even more fulfilling, and has turned a usual isolated activity into something social.
In the Dream House is a memoir by Carmen Maria Machado that documents Machado’s relationship with a petite blonde, Harvard graduated. Machado finds herself trapped in an abusive relationship with “the women in the Dream House” and recounts the experience in such creative detail. A whole picture is painted that covers the entirety of the relationship to when the two first meet, a love affair growing swiftly between them, then the fall—where the façade this woman held up breaks—and the inevitable end. Despite knowing that this abusive situation was a thing in the past, I found myself eagerly sympathizing with Machado’s experience. Domestic abuse is a heartbreaking topic, but when told so articulately it also becomes a point of discussion and learning—something taken in stride here.
The narrative delves into the complications of actually being in an abusive same-sex relationship; how hard it is for a minority group to be willing to admit the “bad” among them while fighting for equality, and the (historical) lack of legal protection. I was reminded of my last read of 2020, Ammonite by Nicola Griffith, in which a female planet is depicted and there’s still violence, abuse, egos—all the traits commonly misconstrued as masculine, but are really just human. In the Dream House captures that reality with grace and intellect.
Instead of the story being told in a linear fashion, the narrative is broken up into different fragments—Dream House as Choose Your Own Adventure, Dream House as Sci-fi Thriller, Dream House as Sniffs from the Ink of Women, etc.—in which the relationship is described in a format that suits the given title, revealing details to the reader with nuance and creativity. The point of view also changes depending on the segment, utilizing the second person “you” when Macho is living out her victimhood, and first person “I.” It felt like Machado utilized the full breadth of storytelling, exhausting every possible avenue, turning over each angle, to show us what this relationship was like.
The writing is so robust and intelligent. Many lines and similes left me re-reading in appreciation. I liked how different this was from anything else I’ve ever read. I’m always looking for writing that takes risks and tries something new. This did not disappoint and fully delivered.
I hear the audio version is also very good and Carmen Maria Machado narrates it herself, which is a vulnerability I can only appreciate. I’d recommend In the Dream House to anyone who enjoys memoirs, articulate accounts of past trauma, and immaculate writing.