With My Body
by Nikki Gemmell
I
know, I know, this is the year where a million reviewers say, "Don't
read Fifty Shades
of Grey,
read this!" I'd like to think that it's because that novel's
popularity is only exceeded by its awfulness, not to mention the
number of people who hate-read it. But seriously, if you want lots of
sex in a novel that isn't necessarily "erotica," then With
My Body
is certainly a better option.
It's
not that With My
Body
is a perfect book, but it is certainly compelling and a bit unusual
for the narrative devices it uses. (Does it seem like I just said
that in a review? Well, yes, but...) For one thing, our female
protagonist is never named, and everything is written in a space
somewhere between first and second-person. Sentences sound like this:
"You feel too
much, think too much; the intensity of the fantasies, every night
before sleep."
She is writing to herself, about herself, remembering a time during
her teenage years.
With
the story set primarily in Woondala, Australia — though also
bookended by an adult existence in England — the protagonist feels
dissatisfied with the person she's let herself become. She's nervous,
prone to anger and detachment, and wishes she was a better parent.
She and her husband could have a better marriage, but she's unsure of
what to do, that is, until she starts writing down the story of her
past.
Once,
long ago, you were made tall and strong by the shock of someone who
cherished women and was not afraid of them, who revered their bodies.
Men like that are extremely rare and when a woman finds one she
recognizes profoundly the difference in the lovemaking and is forever
changed; that man becomes a paragon by which all others are measured
and you are lucky, so lucky, to have found it, once.
Each
chapter is instead a "lesson" and begins with a short bit
of advice, followed by the story itself. The advice is from an old book
she discovers, A
Woman's Thoughts About Women,
on the shelves of the man she meets at nearly seventeen.
The author is anonymous, but she is drawn in by the woman's easy
voice, "a
certainty you've rarely known." In
this way, With My
Body
is meant to mirror this reading material.
Everything
leads up to or stems from her relationship with a writer named Tol, a
man who has kept himself in a semi-secluded house in order to get
some work done. He lives near the home her father and step-mother share,
and she only discovers him during one of her many school break
bike-rides that intentionally limit her time with the step-mother.
He
looks up when he is done as though he is looking for approval and his
lashes are so dark and you can see the little boy, suddenly, the
child he would have been, the vulnerability he rarely shows; that you
want to hold in the cup of your hands, here, now; that you want to
bow down to and murmur on with your lips.
It
is easy to forget how young she is while reading because even before
this meeting, she already seems older and observant of the world. She
hungers for affection, yearns to absorb all the good she can because
it all seems so fleeting. There is a lot of truth to her thoughts,
however limited by experience that they are, and though, yes, she is
underage and he is not, it never comes across as creepy. Others might
disagree, especially those who have never felt this way at any age,
but when one takes into account the intensity of teenage emotion,
especially when it comes to first love, a mutual love... Yes, it is
easy to forget her age. This "paragon" becomes quite the
person for which all of her future unknowingly strives. No wonder she
is disappointed by everything that came after when, once, she had the
complete, solitary attention of a man. And he, the solitary attention
of her.
His
eyes shine as he looks at you, his funny little scrap of a bush
thing; his voice cracks and veers into something else. 'From love.
And with that comes the best kind of sex. Because it's tinged with a
… a reverence. It's almost like a holiness fluttering in you both.'
While
With My Body
is a story of romance and of awakening, it is also a story of damage.
Every character punishes themselves in some way, and they often have
huge blind spots when it comes to their personal mental health. So
many of them do not know how to express their desires — not just
the sexual ones — and their shame is often a problem. There's a lot
going on here beyond an illicit affair.
Some
of Gemmell's writing can get repetitive — "bush thing"
and "rangy" appear countless times as descriptors — and
occasionally, the sentence fragments lose their art and just lie
there as unsatisfying pieces. For the most part though, I really did
enjoy this book. I found a great deal of beauty in the relationship,
even with its mysterious disappointments. Tol and the girl are
studying one another as they enjoy themselves — they want to learn
how to be treated well. I understood her yearning and the
transformative power of the right kind of love, at exactly the right
time. We should all be so lucky.
Full Disclosure: This book was sent to me by Harper Perennial. I thank them for the gesture, and I will continue to be fair with my reviews.
(This review now also appears at Persephone Magazine.)
(This review now also appears at Persephone Magazine.)

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