Eyes Guts Throat Bones is “a collection of short stories about (queer, woman) bodies and the end of the world” that claims to offer a new lens “on sex, death, love and what makes us who we are.” It’s written by Moira Fowley, an Irish author known for YA fiction.
The most pressing thing to say about this collection is that it is, unequivocally, still YA fiction, despite being marketed for adults. Certainly, it contains a lot of adult-seeming themes, but these are written in a style I imagine would be more palatable to a teenage audience.
There’s no denying, Fowley has an incredible and unique imagination. In these stories monsters abound, “things” haunt perimeters, flowers fall from the sky and enormous, ancient queens haunt hillsides. Unfortunately, while the stories start strong, they tend to point towards meanings that never materialise, leaving us with sentence strings of impressive imagery that fizzle out to nothing.
For those precocious young adults who pick this up this collection could prove a very enjoyable, self-affirming read
Fowley’s clear talent for YA writing shines through, but in the context of writing for adults, her overuse of poetical language proves somewhat grating. Yet, for those precocious young adults who pick this up (especially queer young adults who enjoy fantasy or horror fiction and who are desirous of reading material that champions their sexuality), this collection could prove a very enjoyable, self-affirming read. Certainly, Fowley is refreshingly unabashed in her numerous and highly detailed descriptions of sex between women – at times, it’s almost a hagiography of lesbianism. Lovers eat each other like oysters, while the hetero woman in “Sad Straight Sex at the End of the World”, faced with the unwelcome prospect of making love to a man, thinks:
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“I’ve heard they just keep going. Both of them. Until they’re all pleasured out. Climax after climax. Someone has to call it, I’ve heard. Otherwise, they’d both just give and receive, give and receive and just keep looking at each other that way forever.”
Reading, I was repeatedly put in mind of Angela Carter’s The Bloody Chamber. Unfortunately, this simply doesn’t contain the depth or restraint that made Carter’s collection a work of such genius. On the other hand, if your teenager is grand with sex and gore, give them this – they’ll no doubt insist I’m wrong and say it’s absolutely amazing.
