Varieties of The Fantastic in Fiction

I found “The Husband Stitch” and “Inventory,” both by Carmen Maria Machadoz, to be compelling in their own ways. I started “The Husband Stitch” with an air of caution, having heard the title before, only used in different contexts. I was surprised to find its protagonist to be such a bold woman for the time she seems to be set in. “Inventory” started off strong as well, with a similarly bold protagonist of its own.

Both stories use great foreshadowing to hint at their endings. The narrator of “The Husband Stitch” mentions stories in which sexually liberated women meet unpleasant ends. From the start, it is clear that she is the same type of woman as those in her tales. She relays her own story of meeting and marrying her husband, and of raising the child she has with him. In between her descriptions of her sex life with her husband, she drops in stories of women who have done similar things and been punished for them. It gave me a sense of building anxiety, feeling that it was hinting at what was to come. When she finally meets her own end, it is both satisfying to reach what has been foreshadowed and upsetting to see that her story had to end that way. 

The narrator of “Inventory” writes about the lists she makes when she’s anxious, and the reader comes to understand that the story itself is one of those lists. It was interesting to see how her list of sexual partners slowly morphs into the tale of how a rampant plague has affected her life. Just as the plague took over the world, it takes over her list, which by all means should have had nothing to do with a deadly illness. Admittedly, I didn’t make the connection between her listing of partners and the other lists she creates until the end of the story. When I noticed it, however, it felt like everything fell into place. I felt that it ended the story by wrapping it up in a neat, slightly horrifying, sad, little bow.

Another interesting, shared concept between “The Husband Stitch” and “Inventory” is that of sexually active, unashamed women having sad endings to their lives. It is common to see women like these protagonists suffering for their sexual behavior in media. Machadoz, however, does not vilify these women but uplifts them as the real, living, breathing, human beings they are meant to be. There is such a cliche among sexy women in movies, books, and the like as being portrayed as evil. Over and over, the protagonists are pretty, and the villains are sexy. Examples can be seen in mainstream titles such as the new Godzilla movie, Godzilla vs. Kong, or, arguably, No Time to Die. Machodoz challenges this with her much more realistic characters, showing the reader that women, even sexually liberated ones, are people, too.