Review of "The Drowning Girl: A Memoir"

"I don't thing ghost stories should be written in solitude."

     For the protagonist of Caitlín R. Kiernan's The Drowning Girl: A Memoir, nothing, even memory, can be trusted. India Morgan Phelps, known to her friends as "Imp", is the daughter of a woman who took her own life, and the granddaughter of a lady who did the same. Each suffered from the Phelps Family Curse, a hereditary strain of craziness Imp's psychiatrist has labeled paranoid schizophrenia. Whether or not this diagnosis is accurate, Imp prefers the word "crazy" for its straightforward, easy-to-understand nature. What isn't easy to understand is Eva Canning, a woman who appeared on the side of the road in either July or November, she isn't sure which. There are two versions of Eva in her memory, and by setting each to paper Imp hopes to sort out which one is real. But with a disease like hers, even hindsight is unreliable--and the slightest trigger can bring everything to an unsavory end.

     The premise The Drowning Girl is built upon is intriguing: one woman, two versions of the story, and a narrator who may have made everything up. Indeed, there are times when it's uncertain whether anyone in Imp's life is real, let alone Eva Canning. Yet as Imp struggles more and more with her "ghost story", the novelty quickly begins to wear off, replaced with worry and confusion. Kiernan's impressive ability to capture the mind of a madwoman makes a great deal of the prose unintelligible, the rest highly suspect.

     However, there are upsides to this. Because of her condition, Imp notices things most people don't--the never-ending nature of stories, for instance, and the difference between truth and facts. On the other hand, this kind of double-talk makes for a very laid-back writing style that wanders between scenes, memories, and digressions. Tense shifts from past to present and back again, and Imp occasionally refers to herself in the third person. While this is interesting enough, after a while it can become rather frustrating. Still, it makes her voice more authentic and captures perfectly the inner workings of Imp's mind.

     The biggest pitfall, though, and the most saddening, is the romance. From Imp's recent breakup stems most of the novel's conflict, as Eva Canning appears at least partly responsible. It's okay that the how and why of this situation are not expounded on for a time, as that is the way storytelling works. However, none of the relationships in Imp's life are extraordinarily believable. There is no emotional buildup, no flirtation or first kiss. One minute they are acquaintances, the next they are dating. As a result, no amount of otherwise realistic interactions can bring a sense of romance to these relationships, let alone love. And considering Imp claims to be in love, that is quite sad.

     There's a lot to watch out for in this piece. Cursing is common and sometimes vulgar; physical interactions between couples is described faithfully, leaving little, if anything, to the imagination. Interested readers should note that Imp is lesbian, her girlfriend transgender. There is a bit of a love triangle, in its own way, which heavily impacts the plot. Violence is rare, but the inspiration for most of the short stories, sculptures, and paintings that show up in Imp's life is generally a tad graphic. Imp's mother was a former Catholic, so there are a couple of blasphemous comparisons tucked between the pages. All in all, this is most certainly not a book for children or--I would add--even teens.

     I would recommend this book to adults interested in a fictional memoir told by a woman whose world is constantly on the verge of collapsing. India Morgan Phelps is a round, complex character with a life of her own, yet the story she tells is so impacted by her schizophrenia that very little makes sense. This messes with plot, pacing, and emotional appeal, lessening the impact of otherwise interesting twists and turns. On the other hand, Caitlín R. Kiernan did such a great job capturing Imp's distinctive personality and frame of mind that the madness feels authentic. The Drowning Girl: A Memoir may have its troubles, but the powerful presence of its protagonist cannot be denied. That's what redeems it, in the end, as much as this novel can be said to have been redeemed. It deserves two stars.