As an artist and mother who is interested in Motherhood complexity, this book was right up my alley.
The synopsis, copied from Goodreads:
"At home full-time with her two-year-old son, an artist finds she is struggling. She is lonely and exhausted. She had imagined - what was it she had imagined? Her husband, always travelling for his work, calls her from faraway hotel rooms. One more toddler bedtime, and she fears she might lose her mind.
Instead, quite suddenly, she starts gaining things, surprising things that happen one night when her child will not sleep. Sharper canines. Strange new patches of hair. New appetites, new instincts. And from deep within herself, a new voice...
With its clear eyes on contemporary womanhood and sharp take on structures of power, Nightbitch is an outrageously original, joyfully subversive read that will make you want to howl in laughter and recognition. Addictive enough to be devoured in one sitting, this is an unforgettable novel from a blazing new talent."
I loved this book. I read it slowly because I wanted to sit with having my early motherhood feelings reflected back to me by someone who had them consume her too.
The feminist internal ramblings of someone submerged in, yet at odds with domestic life. Always lonely, never alone. That feeling like you can't crawl out of the weight of this new role. The rage against the patriarchy and the societal bullshit that has painted motherhood with a limited palette. It's sterilized, pushed aside, and devalued. And they have done it so well that most of the (non-mother) feminists I see/hear don't realize that when they talk about motherhood, they are using the overculture's language to push mothers out of the conversation. That they aren't seeing the intense internal power that comes with it. Mothers are fighting the patriarchy every day through this new role they've been thrust into. I think every feminist new mother is stewing, ruminating, and rolling in their internal war cries, protest chants, and crowd-inciting speeches all happening in their heads and hearts while breastfeeding late into the night.
I too made my internal grief, apathy, anger, and love into art. And every artist statement I wrote from that time was so similar to what I found in this book. But of course, Rachel Yoder wrote it so much better, meatier, juicer. Early motherhood is not a painting of Madonna and child, soft eyes full of endless nurturing love. It is angry and feral and hungry. I saw so much of myself in Nightbitch the mother. A mother who is so much more than just a mom.
"Having children isn’t for everyone, but offering up old school sexism isn’t useful to anyone.”
— Kara Walker
Artist and Mother
