Aimee Bender writes what could be described as fairy tales for our time. That’s only an approximation, though. Hans Christian Andersen and the Brothers Grimm set the reader at a distance from the story. Bender, in “Willful Creatures,” brings the reader in close.
The 15 stories in this slim volume are linked only by the longing of their subjects and the originality of each premise. The opening of “Death Watch, the first story in the collection, seems almost like a set-up for a joke: “Ten men go to ten doctors. All the doctors tell all the men that they have only two weeks left to live. Five men cry. Three men rage. One man smiles. The last man is silent, meditative.” But there is no punch line. Rather, the deathbed sentence is an opportunity that can be taken or ignored, and while death is inevitable, its timing is tricky.
Most of the stories ask the reader to suspend disbelief; the reader who is able will surrender to pleasure. “End of the Line” is a gem of an allegory in which a man buys a little man, complete with cage, a small sofa and a television, to be his pet. They get along at first, though the big man is surprised by the little man’s expectations. Soon, though, their relationship deteriorates. The big man begins to abuse his pet, because he’s big and he can. And as time goes on, ownership becomes a weight.
The stories that are more firmly anchored in reality also pack a punch. “Debbieland” calls to mind movies like “The Heathers” or “Mean Girls,” stories in which in-crowd teenage girls derive pleasure and power from preying on those who stand outside the tightly knit socially elite. The reader’s pleasure derives in part from the knowledge that this narrator won’t get away with it, and in part because her self-inflicted punishment evolves unexpectedly.
“I Will Pick Out Your Ribs (from My Teeth)” illustrates a different kind of self-made trap. In this work, a man is caught in a relationship with a girlfriend bent on suicide. She can’t stop her attempted overdoses, and he fears she’ll leave him if he throws out her pills.
Two stories of particular purity stand out in this collection. “Ironhead” tells of two (literal) pumpkin heads, strange to the world of human heads, whose third child is born with the head of a steam iron. Love and loss resonate poignantly, clarified by the filter of the fantastic.
Equally clarified is desire – not passion, and certainly not love – in a story whose title cannot be shared here. It revolves around a man who seduces mothers, not married ones, “only available ones who wanted to date and who’d lined up an appropriate babysitter for the child that’s made them a mother in the first place.”
The story is elegant in both its restraint and focus. When the man achieves what should be impossible, an interlude with a California starlet, the reader sees powerful longing. He explains, “Desire is a house. Desire needs closed space. Desire runs out of doors or windows, or slats or pinpricks, it can’t fit under the sky, too large. Close the doors. Close the windows. As soon as you laugh from nerves or make a joke or say something just to say something … then you blow open a window in your house of desire and it can’t heat up as well.” In the context, it is a statement that is both right and terribly sad.
“Willful Creatures” is an aptly titled standout collection. Bender writes with a spare clarity that belies the emotional punch of her work. These are stories that you’ll read with a sense of discovery and wonder. You’ll re-read them just for their beauty.
Robin Vidimos is a freelance writer who reviews books for The Denver Post and Buzz in the ‘Burbs.
Willful Creatures
By Aimee Bender
Doubleday, 208 pages, $22.95
