In this memoir, Machado shares her experience of a relationship with a beautiful woman that begins as dream-like and erotic and devolves into terrifying and abusive. Through a course of poetic essays, with the Dream House imagery as theme, she portrays how she is entranced, then entrapped, and then, finally, enraged enough to free herself from the woman who has gripped her heart and fractured it in two.
This is, apparently, one of the rare portrayals of queer relationship violence/abuse that is documented by literary means. While books about heterosexual abuse abound, the queer community has been more silent on this topic. It is not uncommon for a marginalized community to feel a loyalty such as this, to hold itself to a higher standard, to try to appear to have achieved a higher ideal. Doing so is an understandable way to try to protect those in the community from further criticism, because, surely, they receive enough as it is. However, by doing so, it denies those who identify as queer as having others believe them , understand their plight, and have others who openly support and identify with them when it does occur. And spousal abuse/relationship abuse can happen to anyone – anyone is vulnerable, no matter your gender identity, your sexual preference, your race, your religion, your ability, your size. This is the harsh reality.
The writing here is poetic and ethereal. The image of the Dream House as both positive and negative images captures the internal struggle of the victim of abuse and the subsequent gaslighting. There can be so much wonder and love and light, but there is also so much darkness and hatred and doom – and it can change in a heartbeat from one extreme to the other. The victim walks on eggshells, constantly apologizing for her own existence. She feels she must have brought this on herself, she must deserve what is happening, because, really, what else could it be? How could someone love her so much in one moment but then hate her so much in another? Maybe if she just acts better, IS better, she can make it right. But of course, it is not her – it is her abuser who is at fault. This is so painfully hard to see when you are in it.
Machado has very generously opened her heart to us. I hope that others come forward with their stories as well in order to create the supportive community that is necessary to acknowledge that this can happen to anyone, queer or otherwise.
kindread spirits 