One recurring question in Carmen Maria Machado’s latest memoir about an abusive same-sex relationship is: How did we end up here? Followed by: Is this the breaking point?
For instance, Machado illustrates a nightmarish moment from a fairy tale to illustrate the conflicting, irrational emotions she had towards her then-partner: the wife of Bluebeard in folklore witnesses her husband dancing with the corpses of his past wives, a scene that terrifies her, yet she convinces herself it’s normal. Machado conveys the unsettling nature of an abusive relationship, showing how it can be both frightening and deceptive.
Through mesmerizing, almost lyrical writing, Machado draws readers into her “dream house,” inviting them to explore the hidden corners and witness how she reconstructs the experience of living with an abusive partner over several years. In the Dream House delves into a labyrinth of emotion and analysis. Being Machado’s first non-fiction work, it complements her successful collection of short stories, Her Body and Other Parties, by leveraging elements of fairy tales and science fiction to craft intricate worlds for her characters.
However, Machado’s memoir goes beyond recounting her past; it aims to address the lack of narratives concerning abuse in same-sex relationships. She highlights the reasons such stories have been silenced, such as concerns about undermining the LGBTQ+ movement and the prevalent narrative of women solely being victims of abuse. Machado sets out to illuminate the reality that abuse between partners of the same gender exists and is not uncommon.
In the Dream House spans the period when Machado was a graduate student at the University of Iowa, where she meets her abuser early on and remains in the relationship during her time there, even when her partner moves to a different MFA program in Bloomington, Indiana. Most chapters are written in the second person, with “you” often representing a younger Machado. By using this narrative style, readers are drawn into the complexities of the relationship, almost feeling trapped alongside Machado in a distorted reality.
The storytelling is relentless, with each chapter boldly titled “Dream House as…,” reflecting different perspectives (“Dream House as Time Travel,” “Dream House as a Stranger Comes to Town,” “Dream House as Confession,” “Dream House as Dreamboat,” etc.). Machado explains the significance of this naming convention in “Dream House as World Building,” emphasizing that settings should never be passive in writing but activated by the character’s viewpoint. The Dream House symbolizes various things throughout the memoir, representing both a physical location and emotional states like ecstasy, entrapment, nightmares, regrets, escape routes, and lifelines.
In a notably crafted chapter, “Dream House as Word Problem,” Machado articulates her constant travels to Bloomington through a math problem scenario, illustrating the futile nature of her situation. This approach, devoid of a clear answer, underscores the complexity of her predicament. In another chapter, “Dream House as Half Credit,” Machado shares her motivation for writing the book in concise, impactful chapters, drawing on her childhood advice from her father to write down everything she knew about a topic when unsure of an answer. Through historical examples and personal anecdotes, she weaves a narrative that combines past experiences with present challenges. The book concludes with a poignant message: “Let it never be said I didn’t try.”
