Writer’s debut collection peculiar, thrilling
Compilation of arresting stories by Toronto author draws in, takes hold of readers
In “Waxy,” the strange and beautiful short story that Toronto writer Camilla Grudova published last year in Granta, a female factory worker struggles to justify her existence after her man leaves.
In this dystopian realm, women labour on the line by day and care-take by night, supporting spouses who earn prize money studying philosophy books and taking exams.
Our nameless narrator paints letters on Nightingale sewing machines and lives in a single room without a door, in a boarding house, on the verge of being reported for not having a man.
She’s overjoyed, then, when she meets Paul, a much younger man with missing teeth and an unreliable bladder.
She promptly moves him in to her flat, bathes him and plies him with rations of instant coffee and powdered milk, tinned meat and peaches, and toast with golden syrup.
Against all odds, our factory worker and Paul fall in love and have a baby, Waxy, whom they must hide, since Paul does not have identification papers and is therefore not registered for exams.
Whimsical, poetic and oddly political, this gem of a story, along with another oddball delight, “Agata’s Machine,” published in The White Review in 2015, paved the way for Grudova’s debut collection, which includes both pieces.
The Doll’s Alphabet is one of the most peculiar outings in recent memory, and among the most thrilling.
Here are tales of women who find freedom unzipping themselves from their skin, wooden ship mermaids and octopuses that conceive sad little boy sconces on the high seas, anxious aristocrats who have each and every one of their possessions — silk socks, opera glasses, liquo- rice-flavoured lozenges, erotic cards — canned by the Hungarian Food Company Inc. to guard against theft. Plus, womanizing spiders and magnetic machines that destroy.
The collection’s most arresting story, “The Moth Emporium,” sees a 21-yearold aspiring Danish novelist wed the middle-aged German owner of a vermin-infested vintage costume shop in a Victorian house.
When he commissions violent sexual sculptures and has them installed in the bedroom, she flees with their son.
Like all of the work in The Doll’s Alphabet, “The Moth Emporium” is characterized by a steampunk esthetic, an obsession with antique objects and outdated foodstuffs, and a fascination with class and gender politics.
All told, The Doll’s Alphabet is both enchanting and shocking.
Grudova’s weird, wonderful voice draws the reader in, takes holds, and refuses to let go. Tara Henley is a writer and radio producer.