A lesbian couple raises a son with a disconcerting dark side.
Sammie and Monika are a gay Central Florida couple: Monika is a successful lawyer, and Sammie works part time from home as a copy editor so she can be there for their son, Samson. Even from toddlerhood, Samson is an inscrutable child. At 4, he calmly allows himself to be nearly abducted by a man on a playground; as a fourth grader he carries around a doll double of himself that Sammie helped him make for a school project. And Sammie is ill at ease in her mom role: She sees herself as “a former manager now reduced to running a household. And…not even running it all that well.” When Monika calls Sammie one night from the ER claiming that Samson has bitten another child, Sammie must confront the fundamental terror she feels in the face of parenting her son: “Maybe love is always a thing,” she thinks, “that’s resting on the edge of violence.” As Samson grows, his behavior pushes over that edge, and Sammie must confront her own destructive impulses and the role she plays in her son’s, and her family’s, unravelling. Arnett writes movingly of the loneliness Sammie feels in the queer community once she becomes a parent, at times even flashing outside of Sammie’s point of view for brief interludes to show how outsiders see her in ways that she cannot clearly see herself. As in her first novel, Mostly Dead Things (2019), Arnett deftly examines the psychological dynamics of a family, raising complicated questions about whether mothers can ever truly understand how to raise sons and whether our children, too often, are mirrors of our own worst tendencies.
A novel that is not afraid to look at the underbelly of parenting, queer relationships, and middle age.