‘Comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love…’
You have to be careful when writing reviews these days. Nothing angers people more than an unwanted spoiler. This presents a challenge, especially when the most interesting thing about a film or book is the goddamn spoiler. Sometimes, the fact that there is anything to spoil is a spoiler in and of itself. If you know there is a twist coming, then that changes your perception of what you are about to consume. You’re looking around for it. Suspicious of each character and their true intentions. In that spirit, if you, dear reader, are someone who is planning to read Comfort Me with Apples anytime soon then now is the time to stop reading this review. Mild spoilers ahead…
Sophia lives a seemingly perfect life in a seemingly perfect world. Told through her eyes, Comfort Me… tells of an idyllic gated community with the lofty title Arcadia Gardens. However, interspersed with Sophia’s increasingly troubled missives are a strict set of rules for the community to follow. While they start off pretty standard, they soon begin to reveal the horrifying truth about Sophia and Arcadia Gardens.
I won’t reveal that truth here, what I will say is that it is a twist so horribly ingenious, so shocking, that it instantly made me want to return to page one and read the whole thing again. I didn’t, of course. We all have a yearly Goodreads challenge to achieve after all. But needless to say, this twist is something right up my street. Catherynne M. Valente’s prose and the third act volta elevate Comfort Me with Apples above the slew of similar domestic noirs that followed in the wake of Gone Girl. In the end, Valente’s novella feels closer to existential nightmarish cinema like Vivarium and Mother! High praise indeed.
At a skinny 112 pages, Valente’s 12th novel can be read in an afternoon, preferably with a storm raging outside and a log fire hissing and crackling in the background. I loved it.