Ursula Pflug Down From (2018)
Of all the writers assembled within Snuggly Books' Drowning in Beauty anthology, Ursula Pflug seemed like someone whose work I should seek out, and the novella length Down From does not disappoint. It's probably a story about depression, schizophrenic episodes, mania and delusion, but is told with the only solid ground being the ever-shifting universe of Sandrine and then Vienna, who seems to be her friend but may also be herself - it's hard to be certain in this world, or rather these worlds, because each time Sandrine comes down from the mountain, everything has changed to the point of her sometimes having to guess what her husband is called this time. So, to render a potentially lazy comparison, think the folksy cosmos of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe filtered through the later, more paranoid writings of Philip K. Dick, at least in so much as that it's left to the reader to decide what's really happening here, then whether what's really happening is what matters.
Otherwise, it's a story of loss, loneliness, and means of coping with the same found in places beyond everyday reality. It's a world viewed from within the existence of a crazy homeless lady who lives in the woods in a house she's made from whatever trash she's been able to find, but from the inside looking out at the rest of us, and seeing things we may not expect to see. Down From is probably not quite like anything I've read before, and actually exceeds the promise of Fires Halfway.
Of all the writers assembled within Snuggly Books' Drowning in Beauty anthology, Ursula Pflug seemed like someone whose work I should seek out, and the novella length Down From does not disappoint. It's probably a story about depression, schizophrenic episodes, mania and delusion, but is told with the only solid ground being the ever-shifting universe of Sandrine and then Vienna, who seems to be her friend but may also be herself - it's hard to be certain in this world, or rather these worlds, because each time Sandrine comes down from the mountain, everything has changed to the point of her sometimes having to guess what her husband is called this time. So, to render a potentially lazy comparison, think the folksy cosmos of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe filtered through the later, more paranoid writings of Philip K. Dick, at least in so much as that it's left to the reader to decide what's really happening here, then whether what's really happening is what matters.
Otherwise, it's a story of loss, loneliness, and means of coping with the same found in places beyond everyday reality. It's a world viewed from within the existence of a crazy homeless lady who lives in the woods in a house she's made from whatever trash she's been able to find, but from the inside looking out at the rest of us, and seeing things we may not expect to see. Down From is probably not quite like anything I've read before, and actually exceeds the promise of Fires Halfway.
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