Paper monsters
Emma Rathbone’s remarkable debut novel, The Patterns of Paper Monsters, gives a fly-on-the-wall perspective into the world of Jacob Higgins—a modern-day Holden Caulfield. A sullen, cynical teenager being detained for armed robbery, Jake is occasionally visited by his negligent, alcoholic mother and is continually plagued by memories of her and her abusive, drunkard boyfriend. One can hardly blame the guy for his moodiness; the bleak surroundings, the vapid expressions of the other detainees, and the waxy cookies at the center’s “socials” are enough to drive anyone into a state of morose madness.
Jacob’s daily journal entries showcase days filled with monotonous activities, like being jarred awake by insensitive staff members and offensively bright overhead lighting, trudging to and from the cafeteria to decipher the questionable food choices, and slogging to whichever meaningless “activity” the staff has chosen for the morning. During one of his boring classes, Jake discovers a fellow captive named Andrea as she clumsily knocks over a tin of pens in the computer room. Jake and Andrea’s matching wit and acrimonious nature cause the two to quickly develop a budding romance and a “you-get-me-and-I-get-you” camaraderie that two young people could really benefit from in such a place.
Another detainee named David later confides in Jake that he plans on trapping everyone inside the building and setting it on fire. David not only expounds as to how he will pull the horrific stunt off, but gives even more disturbing details on why he’ll be able to get away with it. Jake eventually realizes the guy is serious and not just purely insane. As his conscience switches into hyper drive, Jake begins to reconnect with the cosmos, realizing there are actually things and people in life worth caring about and things and people worth protecting.
Despite a lackluster ending, The Patterns of Paper Monsters guarantees laughs as it showcases Rathbone’s creative style of writing. The Patterns of Paper Monsters is her first novel.
The Patterns of Paper Monsters by Emma Rathbone
Still Life: Adventures in Taxidermy by Melissa Milgrom
As a person who has dabbled in vegetarianism and veganism from time to time, I must admit I was quite reluctant to even open Still Life: Adventures in Taxidermy by Melissa Milgrom, the cover of which shows a glassy-eyed fox, bearing his teeth. My most recent stint in vegetarianism lasted two full years and started immediately upon my departure from a local taxidermy “museum,” which is located about a mile down the road from my home. As I looked at the shells of former living creatures I felt horrified, yet at the same time, I couldn’t help but be rather impressed at what I saw…and maybe…a little inspired? After all, I was looking at a lion, a giraffe, a zebra head, and a multitude of local animals: catamounts, bears, fish, raccoons, skunks, boars—even a mother beaver and her baby.
As I began reading Milgrom’s words, however, I suddenly felt less alone. She seemed to feel the same way I did, and wanted answers to the same questions. “What compels people to want to transform animals into mantelpiece trophies, tacky roadside totems, or even diorama specimens? On the one hand, nothing seems as ludicrous as taking an animal and transforming it into a replica of itself,” Milgrom writes. “Why kill it in the first place? There is something arresting and haunting about taxidermy when expertly done by museum masters and something morbid and kitschy about taxidermy when it’s used to make effigies of famous animals. Taxidermy makes you laugh and feel uneasy and inspired all at the same time, a powerful clash.”
It took Milgrom, a freelance journalist, six years to write Still Life. In that time, she visited many taxidermy businesses, and got to know the owners. She learned the entire taxidermy process from start to finish, going from a curious observer to trying her own hand at the art. In getting to the meat of the business—pun intended—Milgrom was fundamentally able to understand and therefore truly appreciate the craft.