The Drowning Girl

by Caitlín R. Kiernan

India Morgan Phelps--Imp to her friends--is schizophrenic. She can no longer trust her own mind, because she is convinced that her memories have somehow betrayed her, forcing her to question her very identity.

Struggling with her perception of reality, Imp must uncover the truth about an encounter with a vicious siren, or a helpless wolf that came to her as a feral girl, or neither of these things but something far, far stranger...

Genres: Horror, Fantasy, Fiction, LGBT, Queer, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy

332 pages, Paperback

First published March 6, 2012

About the author

Caitlín Rebekah Kiernan is an Irish-born American published paleontologist and author of science fiction and dark fantasy works, including ten novels, series of comic books, and more than two hundred and fifty published short stories, novellas, and vignettes.

Reviews

[Jack Tripper · Rating 5 out of 5]

The weird tale can be difficult to sustain through the course of an entire novel, which is why it's often most successful in short form. How does an author maintain that strangeness, that otherworldliness, throughout 200-300 pages? Well, Kiernan's figured it out, though I doubt anyone could ever copy her technique here without looking like a complete rip-off artist. She uses an entirely unreliable narrator, one who is schizophrenic and constantly lies, who's experiencing parallel timelines -- one featuring a mermaid/siren that briefly enters her life, the other a wolf in female human form -- and who jumps back and forth in time (and between the two realities) willy-nilly in order to tell her story and unravel the mystery of these visitations.

At first I thought that the 1st person narration from a mentally disturbed liar would affect the "believability" of her story, in turn affecting my total immersion into it, but the exact opposite was true. I was immediately pulled in by India's quirky writing style, and her unbelievable tale was in fact totally believable within the context of the story because of her mental illness, meaning that she could actually be experiencing these supernatural events, if only in her mind, which added yet another layer to this incredible, beautifully-written story.

India's distorted worldview and her insistence that various parts of her tale are "true" even if they may not be entirely "factual" intensified the strangeness for me, and the overall atmosphere of the novel gave me a vibe similar to that of watching Lost Highway/Mulholland Dr.-era David Lynch. Not that The Drowning Girl's story is in any way similar to Lynch's films, but the slow distortion of reality into unreality evoked a similar feeling in me, one that I've been trying to recapture ever since I'd read this absolutely brilliant novel 3 years ago (which may explain why I've been on a weird fiction binge ever since).

5 Stars

[Bradley · Rating 4 out of 5]

This one is dark and haunting, half a tribute to falling into art so deeply that it makes love to you and murders you, and half a deep treatise on madness and skirting the far edges of normality, all while feeling very much in one's own skin.

Most of the fun is simply trying to figure out whether it's a ghost story, a Ghost Story, or the ghost of a story, disjointed and cast adrift in time and faulty memory.

It's quite the interesting maze. Parts of the later novel is dreamlike and calls on us to reimagine all that had gone on before. It requires a bit of reflection, honestly, but even though this appears, at first glance, to be a quick and easy haunting of a novel, the truth is a bit more murky. Like looking into a disturbed pool of water and seeing yourself in the muddy swirls.

Then again, perhaps the wolves are real, Miss Riding Hood.

There's lots of symbolism and analysis in the novel, but no worries, almost all the work is done for us. It's the threads snaking in-between that require effort. :)

[Mon · Rating 5 out of 5]

Para ser honesta, nunca pensé que un libro como este pudiera gustarme tanto, no es el tipo de lectura que suelo frecuentar, sobre todo porque yo lo que busco en los libros es pasar un buen rato y no romperme la cabeza intentando encajar las piezas como un rompecabezas. Cuando lo empecé fue porque me llamó la atención la portada (sí, así de superficial soy) y poco a poco me fui sumergiendo en la pluma de Caitlin R. Kiernan y el talento que tiene para hacer que una historia circular cobre tanto sentido y encanto.

La joven ahogada es difícil de clasificar en un género gracias a sus múltiples características que van desde el horror hasta la poesía en prosa. En él seguimos a Imp, una mujer que padece esquizofrenia y que quiere contarnos su historia de fantasmas surgida de la obsesión por el cuadro de una joven ahogada.

No soy ninguna experta, escribir para mí siempre ha sido más un pasatiempo que un sueño o una pasión, pero cuando la pandemia empezó hubo muchas personas que se ofrecieron a dar cursos gratis de diferentes temas, yo estuve en uno sobre escritura y estilo. Ahí aprendí que cuando se escribe en primera persona el lenguaje debe adaptarse a la personalidad del narrador; es decir, que si tu narrador es un adolescente con una personalidad despreocupada, no debes usar un lenguaje rimbombante. Parece un detalle obvio, pero me he topado con autores que no lo respetan y el resultado es un desastre difícil de creer. ¿Por qué menciono esto? Porque este libro está narrado en primera persona y la narradora es nada más y nada menos que una mujer con esquizofrenia que habla consigo misma y pone notas al margen de vez en cuando y, a su vez, es una mujer sumamente intelectual que sabe de arte y hechos históricos. Ambas características destacan de una manera muy orgánica. Kiernan logra que como lectores podamos percibir ese grado de locura en ella, sin exagerar, sin llevarlo a niveles inverosímiles y poco congruentes como otros autores suelen hacer con este trastorno en particular.

—Te amo —le dije.
—Soy mala. ¿Recuerdas?
—Entonces amo tu malicia, y yo también seré mala. Me convertiré en una abominación.

Mentiría si dijera que no tiene momentos en lo que su lectura se torna pesada, como cuando Imp recurre a contarnos la historia de ciertas obras y autores que la han marcado para bien o para mal; habla de Seicho Matsumoto, el escritor que (posiblemente) dio vida a la leyenda del Bosque de los Suicidios; de Charles Perrault y el cuento de La Caperucita Roja; de Albert Perrault y sus extraños métodos artísticos; y de fechas, muchas fechas. ¿Resulta tedioso leer sobre todas las obras de arte y datos curiosos que Imp conoce? Eso depende de cada lector. En lo personal, me gusta el arte, así que ha sido interesante conocer datos que nunca me propuse investigar por mi cuenta.

No es un libro que se caracterice por estar repleto de acción, sino por estar repleto de pensamientos. Esto puede deberse a que Caitlin R. Kiernan ha declarado no estar interesada en la trama, sino en la atmósfera y los personajes, en lo que puede lograr construyendo un ambiente inquietante con tintes psicológicos. De hecho, asegura no escribir terror, sino ficción psicológica. Por desgracia, hay pocos libros suyos traducidos al español, así que supongo que si quiero leer más de su trabajo tendré que hacerlo en ese idioma con el que nunca he logrado sentirme cómoda (?

Hablando de la trama, o algo parecido a la trama: es intrigante. Su mayor fuerte es ese, siempre quieres saber hacia dónde conducirá el espiral de locura en el que cae la protagonista, qué es real (de la manera tradicional) y qué es real solo para ella, descubrir cómo una obsesión por un cuadro se convierte en la búsqueda de Eva, esa persona o cosa misteriosa y un poco tenebrosa que se mete en su vida y se queda (algo) incluso cuando se marcha, la manera en la que poco a pocos las piezas van encajando y lo raro de que pese a que la autora nos lleva en círculos y a veces nos mareamos un poquito, el final ofrece lo que debía ofrecer. No tengo ninguna queja.

Es un cuento eso de que los locos no saben que están locos. Sin duda, muchos de nosotros somos capaces de experimentar momentos de epifanía e introspección al igual que cualquier otra persona, o incluso más. Sospecho que pasamos bastante más tiempo reflexionando sobre nuestros pensamientos que las personas cuerdas.

En resumen, he colocado este libro en un pedestal del que no creo que baje durante años, pues se ha convertido en el libro más subrayado de mi estantería. Tampoco creo ser capaz de hacer una reseña que describa todo lo que me hizo sentir sin abrirme más de lo que debería, cosa que no quiero, así que solo queda decir: leánlo. No les prometo que les gustará, pero puedo prometer que reconocerán en él lo inusual que es. Y si lo leen, les gusta y quieren hablar con alguien de sus impresiones, aquí estoy yo.

[Printable Tire · Rating 3 out of 5]

(I finally edited this.)

I was interested enough with the hoopla surrounding Ms. Kiernan to give one of her novels a try. And I really picked the best one, not only because it is the most recent and celebrated but also because it takes place in Providence and Rhode Island whereabouts.

In fact, the whole first half of the book is saturated with gratuitous Providence shout-outs and references. I don't know what it must be like to read this book in another place, but it's hilarious to read what are essentially plugs for local businesses:

"We left the used bookstore, and briefly thought about ducking into a little junk shop in the basement next door. It's called What Cheer, as in "What Cheer, Netop?" and is supposedly the greeting Indians shouted out to Roger Williams (who founded Rhode Island) and his cohorts as he crossed the Seekonk River in seventeen thirty-whatever and such and such. "What Cheer" are magical words in Rhode Island, which is pretty ironic when you pause to consider just how bad things would go for the Narragansetts not too long after they welcomed white men into their lands. No, I wasn't thinking any of this as we stood there on the hot sidewalk trying to decide if we wanted to go down the stairs into the junk shop. They have antique postcards, vintage clothes, and huge antique apothecary cabinets. The drawers are filled with countless random, inconsequential treasures, from doorknobs to chess pieces to old political-campaign buttons. What Cheer also sells a lot of vinyl, by the way."

(Open Weekends! Actually, they're out of business now, unfortunately.)

The above illustrates the utter gratuitousness of Providence references, but it also illustrates how very pointless and plotless the book can be. And, while the author makes this "beat-around-the-bushnes" an aspect of the narrative itself, it still doesn't hide the fact that most of the book is full of Nothing Much Happenings.

The narrator can be at times too meek, other times self-pitying, self-involved, pompous and boring. She (and the author) seem to be making the story up as they go along, which is somewhat ingeniously hidden by the protagonist being such an unreliable narrator. This is used to excuse away "plot holes" or inconsistencies, but doesn't hide the fact that themes and obsessions are introduced and forgotten, then replaced by new themes from an entirely different universe. There are very lame attempts to tie them all together, but it takes more than filling up a page with names of poems to achieve cohesiveness.

The book is at its best when it is in the narrator's voice, which can achieve the excellence of a really good goth live journal entry. When other voices are attempted (serious art criticism, news articles), all semblance of another reality are thwarted.

But anyway. The stuff of truly goth-awful goth is not for me.

So, 2 stars for the book, in that I am glad I read it, and an additional star for taking place in Providence, because I will eat up anything that takes place in Providence and Rhode Island and it's fun to say, "Oh, they're over on Hope Street, I was just there five minutes ago. That reminds me, I have to go to CVS."

[11811 (Eleven) · Rating 2 out of 5]

The quirkiness of this story grabbed my interest right from the start. About 20% into the book it started to get on my nerves. After about 50% or so, I started to hate it. There may be a bit of genius in here somewhere that I lack the intelligence or creativity to appreciate but in any case I was disappointed.

If this is worthy of any award this year, the Bram Stoker is the wrong venue. It has some dark elements but doesn't quite fit the horror genre.

[Jason · Rating 5 out of 5]

5 Stars

Caitlin Kiernan is simply one of the best, the most original, and gifted writers in fiction today. She writes deep and dark horror stories and challenges you the reader as well as her many amazing protagonists to join her on a trip down the rabbit hole. Can you tell she is a real favorite of mine? I have read most of Kiernan’s work and have been taken in by her works, ever since I read The Red Tree, my first endeavor into the mysterious mind of Caitlin Kiernan.

In this book, The Drowning Girl, Kiernan has crafted a novel that is a standalone, is a near masterpiece, and is culmination of many of her skills and styles. This book blurs the genre lines as it is a horror novel, a fantasy, and a straight up piece of fiction combined. This is a story about an amazing girl named India “Imp” Morgan Phelps, as she tells us her story and we have to try and differentiate what might be real, and what might be imaginary. Our heroine is the most unreliable narrator that can be…You see, she is insane, and Imp tells us this right from the start:

“I didn’t realize I was also insane, and that I’d probably always been insane, until a couple of years after Rosemary died. It’s a myth that crazy people don’t know they’re crazy.”

The story synopsis can almost be summed up by the following quote from Imp, told in the beginning of the book:

“Me. Rosemary Anne. Caroline. Three crazy women, all in a row. My mother’s suicide and my grandmother’s suicide. Taking away words so that scary things are less scary, and leaving behind words that no longer mean what they once did. “The Little Mermaid.” The cloudy day I met Abalyn. Dead sparrows and mice trapped inside stoppered bottles. The Drowning Girl, painted by a man who fell off a horse and died. Fecunda ratis, painted by a man who fell off a motorcycle and died. A man who took the surname of the Frenchman who is often credited with having first written down the tale of “Little Red Riding Hood,” and then proceeded to create horrific works of art based on that same fairy tale. Which happens to be my least favorite fairy tale of all.”

Kiernan writes with an eloquent prose, with sophisticated vocabulary, and with a great deal of unconventional style and flair. All of her novels are both character novels and theme novels. They all have hidden truths, layers to be peeled back, and deep and profound meanings. I am always blown away by the way that she makes my head spin. Her books will force you to look inwards at your own points of views and prejudices, and she will force you to question your own beliefs and moral values. I find myself rereading many paragraphs, pages, and chapters, in order to dissect them, relate to them, and come to understand what she might be saying to me. I guess that is what makes her books stand out to me the most, it seems that Caitlin Kiernan is writing for me!!!!

A couple of snippets of her writing style:

Here’s something I scribbled on both sides of a coffeehouse napkin a few days back: “No story has a beginning, and no story has an end. Beginnings and endings may be conceived to serve a purpose, to serve a momentary and transient intent, but they are, in their fundamental nature, arbitrary and exist solely as a convenient construct in the mind of man. Lives are messy, and when we set out to relate them, or parts of them, we cannot ever discern precise and objective moments when any given event began. All beginnings are arbitrary.”
This is more relevant than it may at first glance appear,” typed Imp. The keys jammed, and she had to stop to get them unstuck, staining the fingers of both hands with ink. “Duality. The mutability of the flesh. Transition. Having to hide one’s true self away. Masks. Secrecy. Mermaids, werewolves, gender. The reactions we may have to the truth of things, to someone’s most honest face, to facts that run counter to our expectations and preconceptions. Confessions. Metaphors. Transformation. So, it’s very relevant. Not just a random breakfast conversation. Don’t leave out anything relevant, no matter how mundane it might feel.”

Imp is an amazing woman and a protagonist that I will remember for a long time. She is crazy, insane, and nuts too, but she is also gifted, caring, and intelligent too. Imp is an artist, and a writer. She is grounded yet quite off her rocker. She is obsessed with numbers, and plagued by “Intrusive Thoughts”. She seemed to be real.

I do not want to give away any of the plot or the surprises, so I am only going to say that this is a book not to be missed. If you are interested in thought provoking horror, tense thrillers, ghost stories, werewolves, and mermaids, then this is the perfect book for you. I am a huge fan of Caitlin Kiernan and feel that her works of art would appeal to more than just the horror crowd. The literature snobs could all spend mass amounts of time dissecting, and interpreting her novels, and her characters. I hope that you have gathered that I really love Caitlin Kiernan and think that you would too.

The siren sings to me now too:

“ Sho, shoo, shoo la roo, shoo la rack shack, shoo la baba boo, When I find my sally bally bill come dibb-a-lin a boo shy lor-ree, Hush-a-bye, don’t you cry, Go to sleepy little baby. When you wake, you shall have, All the pretty little horses. Blacks and bays, dapples and grays, Johnny’s gone for a soldier. “Come home with me, little Matty Groves, come home with me tonight. Come home with me, little Matty Groves, and sleep with me till light.” Johnny’s gone for a soldier. They grew and grew in the old churchyard Till they could grow no higher At the end they formed, a true lover’s knot And the rose grew round the briar. I am as brown as brown can be, And my eyes as black as sloe; I am as brisk as brisk can be, Johnny has gone for a soldier. “I put him in a tiny boat, And cast him out to sea…””

[Lena · Rating 4 out of 5]

“We weave necessary fictions, and sometimes they save us. Our minds, our bodies.”
- Imp
“You know now that you’ll never be sure what happened?”
- Dr. Ogilvy

Wow. So there are unreliable narrators and then there are schizophrenics. Had I never read PKD I would have been unprepared.

There are chapters where it is a Tai Chi flow of pure crazy; tangent overlapping tangent. I had never really understood the phrase ‘Keep it together.’

Kiernan cleverly draws you into the character’s predicament by overlapping real works of art, fiction, and history with imagined ones: she leaves you uncertain.

I spent at least two hours desperately googling a sculpture that does not exist.

Or does it?

I want to see it.
I need to see it.
I saw it (in my mind.)
It is the truth that I saw it.
It is a fact that it does not exist.
I’m not lying.
I lied.

[Algernon (Darth Anyan) · Rating 4 out of 5]

There's always a siren, singing you to shipwreck. Some of us may be more susceptible than others are, but there's always a siren. It may be with us all our lives, or it may be many years or decades before we find it or it finds us. But when it does find us, if we're lucky we're Odysseus tied up to the ship's mast, hearing the song with perfect clarity, but ferried to safety by a crew whose ears have been plugged with beeswax. If we're not at all lucky, we're another sort of sailor stepping off the deck to drown in the sea.

India Morgan Phelps hears the call of the abyss when others like me hear just a fine tune by Radiohead. She also hears a running commentary on her life from her alter ego named Imp. Madness runs in her family, handed down from both her mother and her grandmother who had succumbed to the lure and took their own lives. India /Imp is still fighting, buiding up flimsy protections around herself with regular visits to a psychiatrist and drugs to keep her on a level keel, with paintings and diaries in which she tries to put her demons to sleep, with the touch of another human being to hold her tight and help her make it through the night.

We weave necessary fictions, and sometimes they save us. Our minds, our bodies.

.. and sometimes the demons are stronger, their song impossible to ignore, reality to hard a nut to crack. Then India goes out into the night where on empty roads in Massachusetts, or Connecticut, she meets a naked woman who might be a siren, or a werewolf, or a ghost from another time. India takes Eva Canning home with her and under her ministrations her body, her mind, her life is torn inside out and the border between reality and fantasy disappears in a terrifying maelstrom of emotion and colour, music and horror, light and darkness, sanity and insanity.

The events of that summer are flawless in their continuity, and a more honest woman wouldn't divide it up into episodes. There wouldn't be section breaks, pound signs, and numbers denoting new chapters. If I were telling my ghost story the way I should, there might not even be punctuation. Or spaces between one word and the next. I don't hear punctuation marks in my head. My thoughts all run together, and I slice them apart and nail them into place here. I might as well be a lepidopterist neatly pinning dead butterflies and moths onto foam boards. These words are all corpses now, corpses of moths and butterflies. Sparrows in stoppered jars.

The extraordinary achievement of the novel lies in the very absence of logic and narrative continuity of the memoir, the raw material that has not been streamlined and sanitized for easy consumption, the words that burn the page in their intensity, the randomness that reflects the lack of the inside balance most of us take for granted.

I didn't set out to appease the Tyranny of Plot. Lives do not unfold in tidy plots, and it's the worst sort of artifice to insist that the tales we tell - to ourselves and to one another - must be forced to conform to the plot, A-to-Z linear narratives, three acts, the dictates of Aristotle, rising action and climax and falling action and most especially the artifice of resolution.

The novel is subtitled "A Memoir", a recounting of a personal experience, subjective by definition. Early in the first chapters, India quotes from an essay by Ursula K le Guin, about the difference between the facts and the truth, and how the later is not automatically a reflection of the former. Science is frequently unable to explain and control the mechanisms of the subconscious, the reasons and the ways in which a mind unravels and splits at the seams. Art steps in to fill in some of these gaps, at least in the world that India lives in. She knows she has a problem in being haunted by ghosts of the past, and she makes extensive research into the subject, starting with a painting by an obscure 19 century artist named Phillip George Saltonstall, who saw and captued on canvas his own siren. Other sources refer to 'l'inconnue de la Seine': a girl found drowned in the river more than a century earlier; a beat artist who himself died in a motorcycle crash, but not before putting on canvas some very disturbing illustrations of Red Riding Hood being surrounded by wolves; a suicide pact in California that seemes connected to the woman India discovers wandering naked by the side of the road; Herman Melville and Christian Andersen and Charles Perrault - explorers of the darkness and horror that the original fairytales contained before they were Bowdlerized; Natalie Wood and her fragile sanity in the masterpiece by Elia Kazan "Splendor in the Grass".

It is not an easy task to explain a novel without a plot, that takes place mostly inside the head of the narrator, where time and geography become fluid and where people morph into birds or monsters or characters from fairytales. India, with a heart breaking honesty and painful to watch self-destructive introspection, manages in only one paragraph:

Duality. The mutability of the flesh. Transition. Having to hide one's true self away. Masks. Secrecy. Mermaids, werewolves, gender. The reactions we may have to the truth of things, to someone's most honest face, to facts that run counter to our expectations and preconceptions. Confessions. Metaphors. Transformation.

India is haunted, and the word sends me back to a book I have read a couple of months ago, also a memoir of a man 'haunted by waters', a fisherman who tried to help a self-destructive brother and found out that love is not always enough to bring the soul charmed by the song of the siren back home. (A River Runs Through It)

Ghosts are those memories that are too strong to be forgotten for good, echoing across the years and refusing to be obliterated by time.

The most disturbing thing in the book for me was not the scary and unavoidable presence of the supernatural, but the suspicion I had that India Morgan Phelps is not actually crazy, that she is just a normal and sensible human being, that 'there but for the grace of God goes you an I'. The only lasting memory I have of my first book on psychology (an Army primer back in 1983) is that normalcy is a convention, an illusion, a useful concept like the number zero that marks the middle of the scale between total apathy and frantic agitation. Another comparison comes from physics and the steel ball that can be in and out of balance depending on the type of surface it sits on. None of us is 'normal', balanced, static; we all swing out from the center and have moods and fancies and deep seated fears and vulnerabilities. Unlike India/ Imp we either ignore them or have learned to hide them too well from the others, pretending that everything is all right and we are not haunted by the future, by our loneliness, by the lack of meaning in life. Also disturbing is the intimation that the author may have included autobiographical material in the novel, the truth that she is only too familiar with hauntings and ghosts from the past, with discrimination and condemnation of otherness in the choice of gender and sexuality.

Your heart is brittle, Winter India Morgan. Your heart's no more than a china shop, and all the world's that proverbial bull. Your heart's spun from molten glass.

India has people around her who try to hlp, most of all her lover Abalyn, but ultimately she needs to face her ghosts and werewolves and sirens alone and exorcise them in the pages of her journal or on the canvas of her paintings. she wins in the end, but it is a victory paid in blood and tears: You're not the girl who drowns. Not in this story you're writing. You're the girl who learns to swim. .
I cheered when India finds the strength to challenge her doctors:

I asked him if the trick to a lucrative career in psychology was to tell people whatever might make them feel better, by absolving them of responsibility. I look around me and I see so many people intent upon absolving themselves of responsibility. On passing the buck, shifting the blame.

In another place she quotes from Eugene O/�ÁËpU»@ùhQ�ï–Ÿti€ïE®(›51½ý�jAj�æ�ÈŽ?rˆÁqìš�ïDÅSþ´)ï�®Î¢f1D†´˜ÿ8 ¢èÎÿ¨Ö˜QjÎþíýÐrœ�p �Ü@>—��Þ–È]�.zt¯�É7�0žíå·‹ Yß }ßSáöÓ�K‡d�.e6UæŽ�´†Ö¹—dÙ6¸S& Ž

damn!!! my text file got corrupted!
I had more from Eugene O Neill and Clannad and Herman Melville, all referenced in the novel, and a final endorsement of the book, not as dark fantasy or horror or magical realism genre fiction, but as a regular story about a woman struggling to reconcile 'facts' with 'truth'. Amazing achievement for Kiernan. I plan to read more of her novels.

[Jaro · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Drowning Girl is a hypnotic, beautiful ghost story I’m going to write a ghost story now set in Providence, Rhode Island. In New England, in Lovecraft country. The narrator, India Morgan Phelps, Imp, is a young artist diagnosed with disorganized schizophrenia and who (in parenthesis) claims to be a distant relative to Lovecraft, but she doesn’t much care for his stories His prose is too florid and I find his stories silly , but he was right about that thing about man’s greatest and oldest fear being fear of the unknown. Imp does not quite live in her time, rather she lives, due to who she is, a little bit outside of time, which becomes obvious when she meets and falls in love with Abalyn, a transsexual computer game reviewer who confuses Imp (and me) with her talk of EBM, synthpop, shoegaze, japanoise and acid house. Imp does not much care for the music Abalyn plays for her but she’s captivated by one song by a band called Radiohead one of their songs had something about a siren in it, and shipwrecks . More than a ghost story, perhaps, this is a story about sirens, who hypnotize, sing and lull people into the ocean, or into the Japanese suicide forest Aokigahara. It is a story that reminds me of Tim Buckley’s "Song to the Siren" as This Mortal Coil does it. It is also the story of Eva Canning who is or is not a wolf, whom Imp finds naked by the roadside one night and brings home with her. And about Phillip George Staltonstall, one of Kiernans fictitious nineteenth century painters, a late American follower to the pre-Raphaelites who has painted The Drowning Girl, a painting that haunts the story and Imp the nude woman stands in the murky river . It is a story about ghosts, mermaids and werewolves, but Kiernan keeps a poetic tone and a high literary standard throughout, and she very elegantly balances the psychological and the poetic with the supernatural. Not too much as to make it tactless urban fantasy, but not too sparse as to put it in the swamp of literary mainstream. It is perhaps most of all a story about how Imp tells her ghost story, how she folds it in and over itself into a non-linear maze. How she tries to find her way in it in order to understand, and find the courage to trust, what has happened to her. She corrects, repeats, falls, gets up again. What really haunts me after finishing is Imps voice, her clear, strong and beautiful voice; at the same time confident and searching, simultaneously cohesive and destabilizing. The novel is dedicated to Peter Straub master of the ghost story .

[Todos Mis Libros · Rating 1 out of 5]

Lo abandono cuando llevo un tercio de su lectura. No es para mí. Me parece una retahíla de divagaciones sin sentido que me aburren y no me llevan a nada.

[aPriL does feral sometimes · Rating 5 out of 5]

Only 300+ pages, but the themes, image echoes, literary and metafictional references are too numerous to catalog. This is a writer's masterpiece for other writers and literature majors. I don't mean to scare or challenge you; be warned it's not a true genre or other entertainment category, but I'd call it as coming closest to a literary gothic. There are no 'dictionary' words or overly gruesome scenarios, but it does cover ghostly mysteries possibly manifesting because of past cult suicides.

India Morgan Phelps, nicknamed Imp, is a diagnosed schizophrenic. She works as a waitress and she is dependable except when she forgets to take her meds. Her aunt and psychiatrist watch over her, but she mostly takes care of herself, her car and her apartment. Despite her meds, she does not trust everything she sees and hears as she frequently experiences delusions. She has an unusual year and decides to write down what has occurred, whether it really happened or not. As the chapters spin out her story, it becomes obvious Imp is an unreliable narrator of the first rank, which she freely admits. Although she works as a waitress, she actually is an artist, a painter of images.

Spontaneous and impulsive, she picks up a woman who ends up living with her as her girlfriend and lover, Abalyn. In time, Imp learns Abalyn is a transsexual, but given that some of Imp's obsessions are mermaids, werewolves and ghosts, she has no problem with this. Imp has another, more serious problem -she believes a naked woman, Eva Canning, who she also picked up one night is a ghost of a suicide, who led a cult into the sea to drown decades before. Eva seems to change her form - she becomes a wolf, then a siren. Abalyn meets Eva when Imp brings her home, but other incidents that Imp also experiences do not appear to Abalyn. Something about Eva triggers Imp into a vision quest of sorts, a mix of delusions and reality she finds difficult to sort out. She begins this book journaling what she thinks happened, but off her meds and hallucinating, Imp knows she cannot trust the information she uncovers about Eva. The story is disturbingly non-linear as well, jumping forward and back in time, including incidents real and unreal, of which Imp resignedly confesses her awareness.

Imp feels the heart of the mystery is connected somehow to a painting she returns to again and again - Saltonstall's The Drowning Girl .

Who is the Drowning Girl?

Atmospheric and slowly engrossing, each time I picked up this book was a treat of beautifully created sentences and weirdly beautiful/nightmare twinning images. I believe the story Imp experiences is based on reality, but I do not think she is interacting with a ghost. To me, it was more like a meeting between two nice, but insane, people suffering delusions which collide. The problem for the reader is to pick who are the crazy two people, and whose reality happened, and which scenes are the delusions. Of course, a meta-point is that this is a fictional read written by an author called Imp, in the end, which is the only open joke in the book.

[Oleksandr Zholud · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a weird story narrated by psychically abnormal person with magic/fantasy elements. I read it as a part of monthly reading for October 2021 at Hugo & Nebula Awards: Best Novels group. The novel was nominated for Nebula in 2012 but lost to 2312 by Kim Stanley Robinson. It was also nominated for several more awards, including Locus, Bram Stoker, World Fantasy and James Tiptree Jr. Award among others.

The protagonist and narrator is India Morgan Phelps – or Imp for short. From the very start we wrote: “the psychiatrist told me I suffered from disorganized schizophrenia, which is also called hebephrenia” as well as that several of her relatives including both mother and grandmother were hospitalized as unwell in mind. So, we, readers, understand that her story maybe questioned, for, as she also writes, quoting Ursula K. Le Guin, “For fantasy is true, of course. It isn’t factual, but it is true.”

The following text is partially her draft novel, based on her life, partially a showcase of how some persons can experience reality differently from other, e.g. having several first meetings with a person, or feeling the world behind a painting. The title of the novel is based on a painting by Phillip George Saltonstall The Drowning Girl (1898), both the painter and the canvas entirely fictional even if she gives a lot of minute details about them, so that a reader gets an impression of their real existence. She quite often breaks the forth wall, like here:

“And what about this business with chapters?” Imp typed. “If I’m not writing this to be read—which I’m most emphatically not—and if it’s not a book, as such, then why is it that I’m bothering with chapters? Why does anyone bother with chapters? Is it just so the reader knows where to stop and pee, or have a snack, or turn off the light and go to sleep? Aren’t chapters a bit like beginnings and endings? Arbitrary and convenient constructs?” Nonetheless, she typed the Arabic numeral two precisely seventeen single-spaced lines down a fresh sheet of typing paper.”

I have some personal experience with people with people not fully adhering to psychical ‘norms’ and I see this novel as a talented view ‘from inside’ such a mind.

[Ryandake · Rating 4 out of 5]

it's been a while since i've been this flummoxed by a book.

it's a ghost story, a mermaid story, a siren story, a wolf story, a crazy person story... all wrapped up in one. maybe that's why it's so hard to grasp--where it's not mythological, it's psychological, or maybe mythopoetic.

all of the above, i can handle. even in one book. it's a stretch, no doubt--this is not a fishhook book, where you get nabbed by the hook and pulled along. you have to do some serious swimming against the current here, which, while hard work, is also very good exercise, and is not to be evaded.

our heroine, a (?) 20-something schizophrenic trustfund baby--Imp--is a little confused. one night out driving, she picks up a nude, mute, deeply mysterious woman whose name we later discover is Eva. we are immediately invited to ask: what is Eva? what is Eva to Imp?

the answer to those questions form the spine of the novel.

Eva is a siren; or Eva is the ghost of a drowned woman; or Eva is the ghost of a drowned woman's daughter. but maybe Eva is a wolf? all the possibilities are explored, and none explored without merit.

Kiernan's prose is in many places downright poetic, inviting any number of different reads. she uses poetic devices throughout, and none more effectively than a simple strikeout--pay attention when you read, you'll find the resonances multiply when you see those. it's like reading harmonics, or seeing pond ripples. the inferences just multiply.

but sometimes the narrative thread is lost. this is a novel. novels have structures. in a novel, A cannot follow B. Kiernan, to her credit, fights the linear structure, as well as many other points of novelistic logic. what i can't say is that she always wins her fights; sometimes, as a reader, one just wants to shriek "get on with it!".

what happens in this novel? what is learned or achieved? the work doesn't present any easy answers to those questions, which is what one will love about it, or hate about it, i suppose. i find myself rather ambivalent. i can appreciate the effort, the attempt, and i love to see writers push boundaries. but at the same time there are certain satisfactions required, and i am not sure Kiernan supplies those.

the satisfactions i refer to are not plot-based: i don't need to be spoon-fed an answer to the nature of Eva (which seems to me the central question of the book). what i do require is consequence--what effect does Eva's reality/non-reality/significance have for the narrator (Imp)? how does this affect her already tenuous grip on reality-as-we-know-it? those questions aren't answered. and that's a disappointment.

if you meet a siren on the road, should you kill it?

it's a koan. and the book is a sort of koan, on many levels. as a koan, it is perfectly satisfactory. as a novel, it misses some crucial elements.

i will be thinking about it for a while, which attests to its goodness as a piece of writing. but i will also be annoyed at what it lacked.

[Carson · Rating 1 out of 5]

Disappointing twaddle.
A promising start, but it doesn't build or develop in any way. It reads like a work developed during a Creative Writing course; pretentious and self-conscious.
As for the reams and reams of "this is what it's really like to have a mental illness" stream-of-consciousness passages; oh puh-lease.
Give me Janet Frame any day.

[Laurie (barksbooks) · Rating 3 out of 5]

If you pick this up thinking it’s a charming fantasy or even a gothic horror novel you may be disappointed. Like Kiernan’s The Red Tree (which I loved), it has eerie leanings but at its core it’s more an intimate and unflinching look at a person’s struggle with insanity. It revisits several of the same themes but it takes them further and, as much as I tried and wanted to love this one just as much, in the end it just didn’t work for me.

Told in first person, India (Imp) is the unreliable narrator. She starts the book saying it will be a “ghost story with a mermaid and a werewolf”. And though it does visit those themes, this book is really a memoir written by Imp as she attempts to maneuver her way through her memories which may or may not be real because she suffers from schizophrenia. She often admits to lying and the reader is left to piece together what is truth and what is a lie.

I fell into Imp’s story in the early chapters as Imp recalled her past, explains of the madness that has been passed down to her and tells the story of how she met her lover Abalyn. But as the story progressed and drifted off into many side stories and tangents I found myself drifting away. Somewhere at the midway point I didn’t feel as if I could trust anything Imp was telling me and I also felt quite lost and never really regained my footing. Imp admits she is confused and though I sympathized with her, I also felt frustrated and confused trying to decipher and make sense of her thoughts. This is a book that doesn’t go down easy and may take further readings to comprehend. At least it was that way for me. As much as I love Kiernan’s lyrical and dream-like writing, I have to admit that this book didn’t work for me once I hit the midway mark. It makes me almost sad to admit that. Maybe someday I’ll give it another go and maybe then I’ll be able to wrap my head around it all. Or maybe not.

I listened to this as an unabridged audio read by Suzy Jackson who does a great job with the material. She manages to sound young but not too young and feels genuinely at home in the character of Imp. There aren’t too many characters in Imp’s world but she manages to give them all a unique voice that suits each character.

[Sadie Hartmann · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Drowning Girl is my introduction to Caitlín Kiernan's work. Told as a memoir written by a young woman with a troubled mind and a haunted history.
-Unreliable narrator
-Mystery
-Psychological horror
-Characters who are artists
-Ghosts/Hauntings
-schizophrenia/mental illness

[Lee · Rating 3 out of 5]

Story: 3.5/5

1: Being Vague, rambling plot with no little believable storyline
5: Ripping yarn, clever, thought provoking

The drowning girl is like nothing I have ever read before. Written in a style that was very different to my usual choice of books. In a nutshell the story is about a young woman called Imp, who has some mental issues that seem to be genetic from her mothers side. There was a period of her life where things got kind of scary. To help with her rehabilitation she decides to write the episode as a story. That was poorly explained, but hopefully you get the drift.
The story delves deep into Imps mind and it is a scary place. Not being close to any mental illness with family or friends, I found this a remarkable experience. Throughout the book I was continually mentioning in our discussion group who intimate I found the story. I constantly felt like I wasn’t reading a story about Imp, but was in actually in her head and experiencing her slow decline into breakdown. It wasn’t nice, it was disturbing yet fascinating.
The authors adds another element to the story, by giving Imp a transgender girlfriend, who obviously comes with her own baggage. Whilst the girlfriend aspect was critical to the story, adding the transgender side felt like a statement from the author, rather than adding to the story. I think if the author had wanted to present the issues facing transgenders then she should have developed that side of the story further, as it was, it felt tacked on.
This is a paranormal genre style if you ask me. It is a ghost story, you really never understand what is real and what is being imagined and you are left to draw a lot of conclusions. If you like nice parceled up stories that have a clear plot and ending, you won’t like this. It’s one of those books that when you finish, you sit there staring into space, contemplating what you have just read. As a story I felt it was ok, maybe 3 stars, the way it was told was really interesting and unique, 4 stars for that bit. So a solid 3.5 for the story.

Characters: 5/5

1: Unrealistic/unbelievable. Feel nothing for these characters
5: Fully engaged with the characters, believable. Researched.

So there is really only two character worth mentioning. Imp and her girlfriend Abelyn. Both characters were excellently written. In a scary, this is too ‘real kind’ of way. There was times where i felt drained reading and watching Imp spiral into madness and it is written in such a way that you feel you are no longer reading fiction but witnessing an event.
My biggest surprise was the role of the girlfriend. I have already made my statement on the transgender part, but what I loved about Abelyn was the realness of her character. With Imp dissolving into madness before her eyes, I was expecting her to leap off the couch, take control, drag Imp to hospital and save the day. Instead she sat there not knowing what to do. Wanting to take her to the hospital but knowing that if she did, she might be committed and that is what Imp did not want. She was completely stuck between the rock and the hard place, her frustration with Imp, herself, the illness and she struggled to make a decision. As I read this, it became so apparent that this was something that in real life, families and loved ones go through and nice decisive decisions are often the fantasy of authors.

Read Weight: Heavy

Fluffy, Light, Solid, Heavy, Struggle

Yeah, this is heavy, staying inside someone’s head with a delusional problem is hard work. Trying to understand what is real and what is not made this a heavy read.

Engagement: 2.5/5

1: Not fussed about finishing
5: Could stay up all night

I had to mark this down, I needed to take a break at times, two chapters and I was done. Needed something else to distract me.

Recommend: 2.5/5

1: Would advise you to read something else
5: Go read it now. It is THAT good

I am not sure who I would recommend this book to. It is so different and personal I am not confident I know who to say would enjoy it.

Overall, I am glad I read the book. It is something completely new and I enjoyed being exposed to this style of writing.

[L (Nineteen Adze) · Rating 3 out of 5]

Until around the 2/3 mark, this was about 3.5 stars for me. Unfortunately, I only got through the end with the aid of a nice cocktail, a strict reading timer, and some bullying myself through to the end. One day I'll learn the trick of DNF-ing after the halfway point, but it was not yesterday, and ultimately I just found this book exhausting, landing around 3 grudgingly awarded stars.

Overall, I think Kiernan has a lot of technical proficiency in conveying a schizophrenic mindset, and Imp's struggle to resolve the paradox in her memories is compelling, especially in the early chapters. On the other hand, the book is so discursive and full of rumination/ tangents/ explaining the year of events/ brooding that it's hard to get invested in the answer to that question-- and when we finally saw the "real" events, I just had more questions and felt like it didn't make much sense.

I normally enjoy endings with that bite of ambiguity to them, but this one leaned a little too hard on what could have happened-- to me, it's a weak approach to the shifting shore between madness and fantasy, though I can see how it would land better for other readers. More clarity in the final chapters and deeper development of Abalyn, the primary supporting character (a trans woman and Imp's sometimes-partner), would have done wonders for my investment in this story. Removing the two associated short stories, or even just the second one, which is less well integrated into the story and less compelling in general (both were apparently written before the book and added later) would have made space for more character-driven interaction scenes. Imp spends a lot of time in her own head (understandably, given the nature of the story), but more scenes showing her reality brushing against everyone else's would have been more powerful than the extra stories and the self-referential tangents about real and imagined art.

After discussing this with my book group, I've landed on "I admire what the author was trying to do, but it didn't land well for me and I'm resentful in hindsight that it dropped me into a reading slump." Is this a great look at a schizophrenic mindset, with a voice full of wandering thoughts and obsession? Yes, and I haven't read a book that tackles the struggle of therapy and medication and questioning reality in this way-- that element is striking and well developed. Was it a satisfying conclusion for me? Not really. I'm glad to have read it for the experience of an unusual stream-of-consciousness style and structure, but I wouldn't reread this one.

Content warnings: moderate to severe; attempted suicide by drowning, heavy discussion of suicide by family members and cult members, medical issues from stopping psychiatric medication without medical supervision, self-harm, general psychological distress.

Other recommendations:
-If you want to explore a similarly rich and feverish writing style in an early-industrial fantasy setting, try Metal from Heaven by August Clarke. These are two very different books, but I think there's some real taste overlap in the hallucinatory voice and important queer characters.
-If you want a Hungarian-folktale spin on the intrusion of magic and madness into ordinary lives, try The Gypsy (the title hasn't aged well, but the story is wonderful). It leans more into fantasy but still has some elements of questioning reality.
-If your favorite part here was Imp's obsession with words echoing in her head, try The Haunting of Hill House, which uses that kind of chorus to great effect throughout the story.

[Oscar · Rating 3 out of 5]

‘La Joven Ahogada’, de la irlandesa Caitlín R. Kiernan, es una novela que puede encuadrarse dentro del gótico contemporáneo, es decir, que no nos vamos a encontrar castillos en ruinas y espacios lúgubres y misteriosos. Puede que lo más llamativo sea la inteligente estructura narrativa, que incluye recortes de periódicos, extractos de poemas, fragmentos de llamadas telefónicas, y algún cuento dentro de la propia novela escrito por su protagonista. Todo, hay que reconocerlo, bastante caótico, que en algunos momentos te llega a sacar de la historia. Pero también hay que tener en cuenta que la narradora es una esquizofrénica paranoide, y por ello poco fiable, que reproduce sus delirios en forma de relato novelado. La historia no hace más que avanzar y retroceder constantemente y no puedes confiar en absoluto en los recuerdos de la protagonista, como ella mismo llega a admitir.

La historia está protagonizada y narrada por Imp, una joven que vive en Providence (la tierra del Maestro Lovecraft; ¿casualidad?), cuya profesión a tiempo parcial es la pintura. Se trata de una chica con una fuerte personalidad, que te engancha enseguida. Padece esquizofrenia paranoide, enfermedad que hizo suicidarse a su madre y a su abuela, y que mantiene a raya mediante medicación y periódicas visitas a una psiquiatra. Hay que mencionar el cuadro del siglo XIX La Joven Ahogada, que ejerce una extraña fascinación sobre Imp. También tiene su importancia Abalyn, con la que mantendrá una relación. Pero la parte más interesante es la que tiene que ver con sus fantasmas, ya que esta es una historia de fantasmas, y una manera de exorcizar los extraños sucesos que le acaecieron en relación con Eva Canning, una misteriosa mujer de la que recordará dos encuentros con ella, pese a que parezca un solo encuentro. Eva Canning, cuyo parecido con la joven del cuadro es perturbador.

‘La Joven Ahogada’ resulta una novela interesante, fascinante en algunos momentos, y una lectura que no deja indiferente.

[Terence · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Drowning Girl is a difficult book to characterize. Baldly, it’s the story of India Morgan Phelps (aka “Imp”), a highly functional schizophrenic whose life is turned upside down by the appearance of Eva Canning, who may or may not be a ghost, a werewolf, a mermaid or a stalker. If you don’t like unreliable narrators, ambiguous (and sometimes downright confusing) plots and – in the end – not really knowing “what happened,” then you will loathe this book. If you can wrap your mind around the idea that what we perceive as reality is a story that our mind constructs, then you might enjoy this tale.

Kiernan has been a favorite ever since I read Alabaster. She’s a master at creating characters, settings and moods, and comes highly recommended. In Imp, the author has created an extraordinarily believable and sympathetic person. She’s not someone to be pitied – though we can sympathize with her troubles – but to be admired. She doesn’t retreat from the world but stands up to face it and find a way to be part of it. She’s an outlier – a schizophrenic – but her journey is essentially what we all have to do.

I think the moral of the book is best summed up in a quote from a review of Oliver Sack’s Hallucinations in the London Review of Books:

What hallucinations have to tell us might be that the inner workings of our senses are a riotous carnival, driven by an engine of unimaginable processing power whose most spectacular illusion is reality itself. (Vol. 35, No. 5)

Highly recommended, though not for the faint of heart.

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[Katherine · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Las personas muertas y los pensamientos muertos, y supuestamente los momentos muertos, jamás están muertos del todo, y conforman cada instante de nuestras vidas. Nosotros los subestimamos, y eso los hace más poderosos."

He disfrutado de una forma muy extraña esta lectura, y es que no es una idea habitual. Diferentes sucesos y datos se nos van ir exponiendo, pero todo lo que nos va contando logra una unión perceptible una vez vamos avanzando.
Nos sumerge en la caótica e imaginativa mente de nuestra protagonista, quien padece de esquizofrenia, ella nos transmite cierta incomprensión, cierta soledad dentro de la compañía, una carga melancólica latente, y constante, a través de su propia pluma, su particular historia de fantasmas. Y me gusta como esto fue construido por la autora, ya que logra transmitirnos o darnos una idea verosímil de la protagonista.

Este libro nos sumerge en la vida de India, nuestra protagonista, y junto a ella desde su propio relato iremos conociendo lo que va viviendo desde que conoce a Abalyn y a una tal Eva, y como cada suceso en su vida influye en ella tan profundamente que nos veremos nadando en muchas direcciones dentro de su mente, de su vida, y de su visión.

Amé la cantidad de citas y referencias a autores/as que nos va haciendo a lo largo de la historia.

[Ignacio · Rating 4 out of 5]

Muy arriesgado es el ejercicio que Kiernan hace en esta novela. Sobre la mesa pone una exploración personal mediante un narrador no confiable, una historia de fantasmas, un relato romántico con cuestiones de género y una indagación sobre múltiples iconos populares mientras discute sobre cómo se escriben las historias. Un cuádruple salto mortal hacia adelante con tirabuzón y medio del que sale airosa... con algún problema en la salida. Quizás hay partes demasiado oscuras para mi gusto y al popurrí le falta un poco de cohesión, pero es una novela valiosa que hubiera merecido mejor suerte de la que ha corrido en nuestro país.

[Maya · Rating 1 out of 5]

Well, The Drowing Girl was not an enjoyable read for me. I don't hate the book, don't have any strong feelings about it, but I “didn't like” it, hence the 1 star rating. The book is well written and I probably would have given it 2 stars, if there had been more of a payoff at the end, but there isn't, so the book wasn't an "ok" read for me.

Overall, less would have been more and there were too many elements mixed together, without them being sufficiently relevant to the story.

First of all, India is an "unreliable narrator". Since she is schizophrenic, she has problems distinguishing between what's real and what's not, so she has false memories and she will sometimes tell you things as facts, even though she only imagined them, which she may point out to you later, or may not. This could make for an intriguing mystery, but I don't feel like it was used in any interesting way. Mostly, I found India's voice either boring or annoying and India as a character quite unlikable.

Also, while reading, India's actual schizophrenia doesn't stand out that much, because the reader most of the time doesn't know if she has told "a lie" or not and can only guess. This is not a criticism. It makes sense, since India herself usually cannot recognize these things, so they shouldn't stand out in her narration. At the time, though, this means that her other (mental) problems take the center stage. She is not only schizophrenic, but also suicidal (which may or may not be caused by her schizophrenia) and has obsessive–compulsive disorders (again may or may not be related), and these are much more present throughout her narration.

She also has a creepy obsession with death, be it murders, suicides, mass-suicides or mass-dying of animals, which may or may not be caused by the suicides of her mother and grandmother, and likes to explain many, many stories related to such occurrences and often in macabre details. Suicide Forest, Suicide Song, Werewolf Murder, Shark Murder, Mermaid Murder, Siren Murder, Red-Riding Hood Murder ... For me, all this talk about death, murder and often romanticized suicide, was the most prominent part of India's narration and therefore of the whole story and it was very tiring to read. It felt like every second page was about death.

And then there's all the other stuff. Seemingly endless talk about art, art history, art criticism, local and not so local history and urban legends, supernatural sex and weird sex talk, Greek, Japanese, French, Mythology and Fairytales, transgender girlfriend, two not-so-short short stories written by India and oh right, the ghost story. With a ghost, who may or may not be a ghost or two or a wolf or a mermaid or a siren with whom India is in love or not. It might have been a supernatural happening or it might have been all in her head.

In short, the whole story of The Drowning Girl is a big "maybe this happened, or maybe not" and you're left with that. For me, there were too many things that did not come together in the end, some, like the transgender seemed just thrown in for good measure and India's mental and family issues were not explored enough to actually matter. The narration and the story were not intriguing or mysterious, but boring and tiring. Maybe it's worth analyzing more profoundly and then the pieces will fit together more neatly. Or maybe not.

This book is for people who enjoy very vague stories, where you can make up your own mind as to what it all means.

[Tessa Nadir · Rating 4 out of 5]

Cartea a primit premiul Bram Stoker si a fost nominalizata la premiul Nebula in 2013. Avem de-a face cu un roman fantasy intunecat, gotic, erotic, cu fantome, varcolaci, sirene si o femeie frumoasa dintr-un tablou care se numeste "Fata inecandu-se". Mi s-a parut foarte intrigant astfel ca am fost foarte curioasa sa descopar aceasta poveste ce face parte din colectia "Paladin Black Pocket". Trebuie sa mentionez ca aceasta colectie este coordonata de scriitorul M. Haulica si traducerea ii apartine scriitorului Flavius Ardelean.
Cartea arata bine, coperta este frumoasa, stilata iar intregul rezultat este de calitate si profesionist executat.
India Morgan Phelps cunoscuta si ca Imp este eroina cartii iar toate femeile din familia ei au un istoric cu boli mintale, ea fiind la randul ei schizofrenica. Astfel, lectura nu este usoara pentru ca avem de-a face cu mintea tulburata si confuza a eroinei, ea fiind si naratoarea cartii. Foarte interesant, apare si cu un narator la persoana a III-a care pare sa fie o voce din mintea ei.
Eroina, Imp, la 11 ani, vede un tablou al pictorului P. George Saltonstall care se numeste "Fata inecandu-se" si devine obsedata de el. Mai aflam si faptul ca e lesbiana si are iubita, pe numele ei Abalyn, recenzoare de jocuri video. Intr-o noapte, cand conduce pe sosea, Imp intalneste o fata, pe Eva Canning, care seamana foarte tare cu fata din tablou si desigur ca devine obsedata/ bantuita si de ea. Care va fi deznodamantul acestei povesti bizare ramane sa aflati citind romanul.
Cartea este asadar interesanta cu conditia sa reusim sa descalcim toate itele povestii si sa facem diferenta dintre planul real si fantasmele din mintea lui Imp, clar induse de boala.
In incheiere va las cateva citate care mi-au starnit interesul si pe care le-am considerat vrednice de retinut:
"Desigur, n-am intalnit niciodata o persoana nevinovata. Oricine raneste pe cineva la un moment dat, indiferent cat de tare se straduieste sa nu o faca."
"N-a zis nimeni ca trebuie sa fii mort si ingropat ca sa fii o fantoma. Sau, daca a zis cineva, a gresit. Cineva care probabil nu a fost niciodata bantuit."
"Pentru ca nu a putut sa se opreasca pentru mine, m-am oprit eu cu drag pentru ea."
"Omul cat traieste invata. De ce nu-mi ies amandoua, traitul si invatatul?"

[All Things Urban Fantasy · Rating 5 out of 5]

By the purest definition of the rating, THE DROWNING GIRL is indisputably 5bats. A few chapters in, I was already reading passages aloud to friends. I already knew who would be receiving my own copy, budgeting for who I could send others. This had less to do with any enjoyment of the book than a sense of haunting that perfectly mirrors the main character’s own experiences. Does anyone else see what I see? Am I crazy, am I alone?

THE DROWNING GIRL introduces concepts and stories and images that are impossible to shake, and the thought of being able to discuss them with others is comforting. Even more so, the line between fantasy and reality is blurred more in this book than any other I’ve read. Which of the “facts” relayed by Imp are from our world, which from hers? While the fantasy elements of this story are arguably the product of Imp’s illness, the way she expresses her story is so beautifully crafted as to make me doubt even that. This charismatic but unreliable narrator, like any true artist, is able to convey the feeling of her own insanity without ever giving me the sense that I had unraveled it's mystery. As I read, trying to match dates and references to reality, I realized I was falling into Imp's own habits, desperately trying to impose order on fragmented and flawed mind. Like Russian dolls, stories and paintings and quotes nest themselves into the narrative in a way that is as enthralling as it is inscrutable.

Kiernan creates a new definition for “haunting”, while at the same time infecting me with the same. With so much discussion of different types of art (short stories, paintings, sculpture, content...), THE DROWNING GIRL delivers it’s own message with a slight of the hand that is devastating. What part of this book implanted this haunted feeling? What page, what paragraph, has left me so shaken? Equal parts INFINITE JEST and ghost story, though THE DROWNING GIRL was not a restful read, nor the type of entertainment I normally look for in fantasy, it is most certainly unforgettable.

Sexual Content: References to sex, descriptions of oral sex and sex toys.

[Betty · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tren polar. En la cafetería de Audrey

Sexta parada; de vuelta a Irlanda.

“Ahora voy a escribir una historia de fantasmas” Tecleo ella.
“Una historia de fantasmas con una sirena y un Lobo” siguió tecleando.
Yo también tecleé.

La joven ahogada es un libro extraño, alucinógeno. Es el relato de Imp, una chica con esquizofrenia paranoica. Imp es la que describe a lo largo de la novela su estado mental, un viaje a lo más profundo de su mente inestable y sus percepciones de lo que para ella es real o no lo es. Realmente no es un libro de lectura sencilla, pero un gran libro que personalmente no calificaría como terror si no cómo un excelente ejercicio de narrativa.

[Absinthe · Rating 5 out of 5]

The only adequate words to describe this story have already been written by Caitlin R. Kiernan and they are known collectively as The Drowning Girl. I cannot be more sincere in saying that this book is a unique experience that haunts the reader who dares to open the cover. The fabric of reality is always warping and melting and molding into something else and its fascinating because ultimately it leaves the reader to decide for themselves what is and isn't real.

[Bruna Oliveira · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bem interessante

[Emma Deplores Goodreads Censorship · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 stars

A really impressive novel. I wouldn’t call this one fantasy or horror, although some have classified it as such, more like literary fiction with some maybe-fantastical-maybe-not elements mixed in. Our narrator, Imp, is writing down her memories in an attempt to decipher some disturbing things that have happened to her—early on they seem disturbing in the sense of a ghost story, though as the book progresses it is more in the sense of the ways the world can be rough.

This is a fantastically written book, both in the sense that the prose is well put together and that I completely believed Imp’s voice—she sounds like the person she’s supposed to be in a way that few narrators do. Imp is also an endearing character that I felt for a lot; I loved her mix of eccentricity and naivete, the way she’s a little out of sync with the world and a little old-fashioned in terms of her interests, without apologizing for or even quite acknowledging it. Imp is also schizophrenic, and that’s written in a very sensitive and nuanced way; I think the author has said the portrayal is semi-autobiographical and I definitely believe it, because it feels far more like the memoirs I’ve read from people with severe mental illnesses than the way such characters are usually treated in fiction. There’s a section in which Imp goes off her meds, and it’s brilliantly written—lyrical and intense and rambling and out-of-touch, and very different from the rest of the book, as if several dials have been turned up—but it never felt exploitative. Imp’s illness and her generosity toward strangers both make her vulnerable, and she believably winds up in some weird and unfortunate situations, and I always wanted the best for her.

That said, this book is quite unusual: it’s ambiguous and often confusing and even at the end, it’s difficult to say for sure what happened. My theory is that Eva was just a really disturbed person who manipulated Imp, and ultimately roped Imp into assisting with her suicide, and that the supernatural bits are a result of Imp’s memories getting jumbled: in the way that memories tend to do, and because of Imp’s illness, and because all of this was traumatic and she was trying to forget. But there’s definitely a reading in which Eva is both disturbed and supernatural, and probably other readings I’m not thinking of. I don’t mind the lack of answers—I like books with room for interpretation, and it was such a fascinating ride that I don’t mind that it wasn’t all real; it all served some purpose in Imp’s walking through her memories—but it isn’t for everyone. Personally, my biggest criticism is that the two embedded short stories (particularly the first one) feel rather disconnected from the rest of the narrative and not very satisfying in themselves, though an author combining so many styles within one novel is certainly impressive.

Also, a fun tidbit: two of the works of art important to the book were actually invented and then commissioned by the author! You can see them here, although both also have different versions. (Maybe don’t look up the author’s interviews though; she seems like a piece of work.)

At any rate, I thought this one was pretty great—definitely worth checking out for those interested in something different in their reading.

[Mery_B · Rating 2 out of 5]

2'5 ★

Empiezo a imaginar maquinaciones donde antes sólo escuchaba la cacofonía del azar. Los locos hacemos eso todo el tiempo, a menos que se acepte la teoría de que tenemos una habilidad de percibir el orden y la connotación que no está al alcance de las mentes de las personas "cuerdas".
Yo no lo acepto. Quiero decir que no estoy de acuerdo con esa idea. No tenemos un don. No somos mágicos. Estamos leve y profundamente rotos.

Me río todo lo que puedo. Me río para mantener a los lobos a raya.