A superb debut short story collection explores the uncanny and grotesque.
A man develops a symbiotic attachment to a house he must keep “moist” at all costs. A young woman pines after a fellow patient on the ward for people suffering from a rare disease known as Total Nocturnal Bone Loss, which causes a person’s bones to melt overnight. Frustrated by her partner’s neglect in their new suburban home, a woman becomes obsessed with the possibility that someone is living in their storm shelter. In this collection, first-time author Folk conjures up thrilling new ways to write about the strange and often disgusting experience of having a body: One character, while having sex, “focused on her joints, imagining bones turning in the sockets of other bones, rattling at the ends of strings.” Not all of Folk’s stories live up to the standard of her best—the shorter installments tend to be weaker—but her best are truly exceptional. The apex of her innovation are the “blots” that appear in the first and last stories in the collection: artificially constructed men who seduce women via dating app before stealing their identities and wreaking havoc on their digital lives. Though the blots are initially easy to identify—“They were the best-looking men in any room, and had no sense of humor”—they become increasingly difficult to differentiate from normal human men as their technology improves. In “Out There,” a woman agonizes over whether her new boyfriend is a blot or just a jerk; in “Big Sur,” the collection’s high point, Folk delves into the mind of one of the early blots, whose wildly inhuman social skills render him lovable.
A bold, exhilarating display of talent.