111 pages
English language
Published Oct. 29, 2017 by New Directions.
In the quiet suburbs, while Dorothy is doing chores and waiting for her husband to come home from work, not in the least anticipating romance, she hears a strange radio announcement about a monster who has just escaped from the Institute for Oceanographic Research... Reviewers have compared Rachel Ingalls's Mrs. Caliban to King Kong, Edgar Allan Poe's stories, the films of David Lynch, Beauty and the Beast, The Wizard of Oz, E.T., Richard Yates's domestic realism, B-horror movies, and the fairy tales of Angela Carter--how such a short novel could contain all of these disparate elements is a testament to its startling and singular charm.
In the quiet suburbs, while Dorothy is doing chores and waiting for her husband to come home from work, not in the least anticipating romance, she hears a strange radio announcement about a monster who has just escaped from the Institute for Oceanographic Research... Reviewers have compared Rachel Ingalls's Mrs. Caliban to King Kong, Edgar Allan Poe's stories, the films of David Lynch, Beauty and the Beast, The Wizard of Oz, E.T., Richard Yates's domestic realism, B-horror movies, and the fairy tales of Angela Carter--how such a short novel could contain all of these disparate elements is a testament to its startling and singular charm.
I read a critic quote “the perfect novella,” and I think they said it best. I loved this book and will return to it again soon.
Much preferred her other novella, “In the Act”. This has many of the same building blocks, primarily a woman in a loveless marriage and a dated setting (1960s?). This time, the love interest is a “frog man”, and like “The Shape of Water”, they get it on: all over the house! Some lovely stretches of writing, but the ending was disappointing.
Vielversprechendes Setup, aber dann versandet die Handlung irgendwie. Zugegeben, mit allen anderen Arten, diese Geschichte zu einem Ende zu bringen, wäre ich wahrscheinlich noch unzufriedener gewesen. Vielleicht gibt es einfach aussichtslose Konstruktionen, bei denen man am Anfang des Erzählens einen so hohen Kredit aufnimmt, dass man ihn später unmöglich zurückzahlen kann, ist ja bei Stephen King auch oft so. Geschichten über scheiternde amerikanische Vorstadt-Ehen konnte ich noch nie leiden, und für dieses trostlose Genre las es sich dann eigentlich ganz okay. Aber die Einführung von intelligenten Riesenfröschen in die Handlung hilft natürlich immer.
A beautiful, funny, crushing little novel, about grief and suburban life and marriage and also a six-foot-eight fishman who walks into a woman's kitchen and life one evening.
A beautiful, funny, crushing little novel, about grief and suburban life and marriage and also a six-foot-eight fishman who walks into a woman's kitchen and life one evening.
Legitimately a perfect novel.
Finally loving, finally living...
This is a book where the contents are everything and the language is very much constructed in a thoughtful and simple way. No meanderings are found here. Ingalls has written a masterpiece which could serve as a construct to understanding what some writings of love, alienation, and humanity can be like, over the course of a few dozen pages.
Also, this book is very funny at times.
“Come on back for a cup of coffee?” Estelle asked.
“I’d love to, but it’s got to be quick. Fred’s bringing somebody back from the office.”
“And you’re scurrying around to fulfil all your wifely obligations. My God, I don’t miss that.”
“You’re kidding. They’re getting spaghetti and they can like it.”
[...]
She accepted a second cup of coffee, first trying to persuade Estelle to add some water to it. Estelle was outraged. She declared that it …
Finally loving, finally living...
This is a book where the contents are everything and the language is very much constructed in a thoughtful and simple way. No meanderings are found here. Ingalls has written a masterpiece which could serve as a construct to understanding what some writings of love, alienation, and humanity can be like, over the course of a few dozen pages.
Also, this book is very funny at times.
“Come on back for a cup of coffee?” Estelle asked.
“I’d love to, but it’s got to be quick. Fred’s bringing somebody back from the office.”
“And you’re scurrying around to fulfil all your wifely obligations. My God, I don’t miss that.”
“You’re kidding. They’re getting spaghetti and they can like it.”
[...]
She accepted a second cup of coffee, first trying to persuade Estelle to add some water to it. Estelle was outraged. She declared that it would kill the taste.
“Then don’t fill it up. Honestly, Estelle.”
“Honestly yourself.”
“I don’t know why it doesn’t have any effect on you. I love it, but two cups make me feel dizzy. And like my scalp might suddenly rise up and fly away. Then there’s something over here—here, is that where the liver is?”
“Dorothy, that’s where the imagination is.”
[...]
“How bad is it?”
“What?” Estelle asked.
“The hangover.”
“I’ve got a hangover, all right. I’ve got a hangover from living forty-four long years.”
She ate an early supper with Larry. They took a lot of extra time over their coffee. He wanted to know all about the Cranstons. The more Dorothy told him, the more he seemed fascinated. What struck him as most interesting was the fact that although Dorothy and Estelle talked about the Cranstons being “friends”, neither of them genuinely liked the couple. “Is this usual?” he asked. After some thought, Dorothy said she figured it probably was.
Finally loving, finally living...
This is a book where the contents are everything and the language is very much constructed in a thoughtful and simple way. No meanderings are found here. Ingalls has written a masterpiece which could serve as a construct to understanding what some writings of love, alienation, and humanity can be like, over the course of a few dozen pages.
Also, this book is very funny at times.
âCome on back for a cup of coffee?â Estelle asked.
âIâd love to, but itâs got to be quick. Fredâs bringing somebody back from the office.â
âAnd youâre scurrying around to fulfil all your wifely obligations. My God, I donât miss that.â
âYouâre kidding. Theyâre getting spaghetti and they can like it.â
...
She accepted a second cup of coffee, first trying to persuade Estelle to add some water to it. Estelle was outraged. She declared that it …
Finally loving, finally living...
This is a book where the contents are everything and the language is very much constructed in a thoughtful and simple way. No meanderings are found here. Ingalls has written a masterpiece which could serve as a construct to understanding what some writings of love, alienation, and humanity can be like, over the course of a few dozen pages.
Also, this book is very funny at times.
âCome on back for a cup of coffee?â Estelle asked.
âIâd love to, but itâs got to be quick. Fredâs bringing somebody back from the office.â
âAnd youâre scurrying around to fulfil all your wifely obligations. My God, I donât miss that.â
âYouâre kidding. Theyâre getting spaghetti and they can like it.â
...
She accepted a second cup of coffee, first trying to persuade Estelle to add some water to it. Estelle was outraged. She declared that it would kill the taste.
âThen donât fill it up. Honestly, Estelle.â
âHonestly yourself.â
âI donât know why it doesnât have any effect on you. I love it, but two cups make me feel dizzy. And like my scalp might suddenly rise up and fly away. Then thereâs something over hereâhere, is that where the liver is?â
âDorothy, thatâs where the imagination is.â
...
âHow bad is it?â
âWhat?â Estelle asked.
âThe hangover.â
âIâve got a hangover, all right. Iâve got a hangover from living forty-four long years.â
She ate an early supper with Larry. They took a lot of extra time over their coffee. He wanted to know all about the Cranstons. The more Dorothy told him, the more he seemed fascinated. What struck him as most interesting was the fact that although Dorothy and Estelle talked about the Cranstons being âfriendsâ, neither of them genuinely liked the couple. âIs this usual?â he asked. After some thought, Dorothy said she figured it probably was.
Finally loving, finally living...
This is a book where the contents are everything and the language is very much constructed in a thoughtful and simple way. No meanderings are found here. Ingalls has written a masterpiece which could serve as a construct to understanding what some writings of love, alienation, and humanity can be like, over the course of a few dozen pages.
Also, this book is very funny at times.
“Come on back for a cup of coffee?” Estelle asked.
“I’d love to, but it’s got to be quick. Fred’s bringing somebody back from the office.”
“And you’re scurrying around to fulfil all your wifely obligations. My God, I don’t miss that.”
“You’re kidding. They’re getting spaghetti and they can like it.”
[...]
She accepted a second cup of coffee, first trying to persuade Estelle to add some water to it. Estelle was outraged. She declared that it …
Finally loving, finally living...
This is a book where the contents are everything and the language is very much constructed in a thoughtful and simple way. No meanderings are found here. Ingalls has written a masterpiece which could serve as a construct to understanding what some writings of love, alienation, and humanity can be like, over the course of a few dozen pages.
Also, this book is very funny at times.
“Come on back for a cup of coffee?” Estelle asked.
“I’d love to, but it’s got to be quick. Fred’s bringing somebody back from the office.”
“And you’re scurrying around to fulfil all your wifely obligations. My God, I don’t miss that.”
“You’re kidding. They’re getting spaghetti and they can like it.”
[...]
She accepted a second cup of coffee, first trying to persuade Estelle to add some water to it. Estelle was outraged. She declared that it would kill the taste.
“Then don’t fill it up. Honestly, Estelle.”
“Honestly yourself.”
“I don’t know why it doesn’t have any effect on you. I love it, but two cups make me feel dizzy. And like my scalp might suddenly rise up and fly away. Then there’s something over here—here, is that where the liver is?”
“Dorothy, that’s where the imagination is.”
[...]
“How bad is it?”
“What?” Estelle asked.
“The hangover.”
“I’ve got a hangover, all right. I’ve got a hangover from living forty-four long years.”
She ate an early supper with Larry. They took a lot of extra time over their coffee. He wanted to know all about the Cranstons. The more Dorothy told him, the more he seemed fascinated. What struck him as most interesting was the fact that although Dorothy and Estelle talked about the Cranstons being “friends”, neither of them genuinely liked the couple. “Is this usual?” he asked. After some thought, Dorothy said she figured it probably was.
