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Poor Deer
A wondrous, tender novel about a young girl grappling with her role in a tragic loss—and attempting to reshape the narrative of her life—from PEN/Faulkner Award nominee Claire Oshetsky
Margaret Murphy is a weaver of fantastic tales, growing up in a world where the truth is too much for one little girl to endure. Her first memory is of the day her friend Agnes died.
No one blames Margaret. Not in so many words. Her mother insists to everyone who will listen that her daughter never even left the house that day. Left alone to make sense of tragedy, Margaret wills herself to forget these unbearable memories, replacing them with imagined stories full of faith and magic—that always end happily.
Enter Poor Deer: a strange and formidable creature who winds her way uninvited into Margaret’s made-up tales. Poor Deer will not rest until Margaret faces the truth about her past and atones for her role in Agnes’s death.
Heartrending, hopeful, and boldly imagined, Poor Deer explores the journey toward understanding the children we once were and the stories we tell ourselves to make sense of life’s most difficult moments.
Margaret Murphy is a weaver of fantastic tales, growing up in a world where the truth is too much for one little girl to endure. Her first memory is of the day her friend Agnes died.
No one blames Margaret. Not in so many words. Her mother insists to everyone who will listen that her daughter never even left the house that day. Left alone to make sense of tragedy, Margaret wills herself to forget these unbearable memories, replacing them with imagined stories full of faith and magic—that always end happily.
Enter Poor Deer: a strange and formidable creature who winds her way uninvited into Margaret’s made-up tales. Poor Deer will not rest until Margaret faces the truth about her past and atones for her role in Agnes’s death.
Heartrending, hopeful, and boldly imagined, Poor Deer explores the journey toward understanding the children we once were and the stories we tell ourselves to make sense of life’s most difficult moments.
237 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 9, 2024
About the author
Claire Oshetsky
2 books554 followers
"Listen! I will be honest with you, I do not offer the old smooth prizes..."
- Walt Whitman
I review books here on goodreads as my fashion-conscious bibliophilic alter ego, "Lark Benobi." Come follow or friend me on my lark benobi page. if you like. I visit this page so infrequently that I won't be accepting friend requests here.
Now and then I'll be leaving reviews on goodreads as "Claire Oshetsky" but only for those books that have influenced me as a writer.
People keep asking me whether the child in the novel Chouette is meant to represent an autistic child, or a trans child, or an autistic trans child, or some other kind of child. The book is fiction. The child in the novel is an owl.
Other people ask me what "Poor Deer," the titular character in my latest novel, represents. I have no good answer to that question.
Other autobiographical stuff to know about me: I love to read. My life goal is to eat and grow fat, same as the three billy goats gruff.
- Walt Whitman
I review books here on goodreads as my fashion-conscious bibliophilic alter ego, "Lark Benobi." Come follow or friend me on my lark benobi page. if you like. I visit this page so infrequently that I won't be accepting friend requests here.
Now and then I'll be leaving reviews on goodreads as "Claire Oshetsky" but only for those books that have influenced me as a writer.
People keep asking me whether the child in the novel Chouette is meant to represent an autistic child, or a trans child, or an autistic trans child, or some other kind of child. The book is fiction. The child in the novel is an owl.
Other people ask me what "Poor Deer," the titular character in my latest novel, represents. I have no good answer to that question.
Other autobiographical stuff to know about me: I love to read. My life goal is to eat and grow fat, same as the three billy goats gruff.
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July 20, 2024December 11, 2023:
The Poor Deer first-edition hardcovers came in the mail today. How do I feel? Like this book is a kite, and I just let go of the string.
The Poor Deer first-edition hardcovers came in the mail today. How do I feel? Like this book is a kite, and I just let go of the string.
March 1, 2024
Shame casts a lengthy shadow over the life of a young girl in Poor Deer, the brilliant second novel from Claire Oshetsky. Haunted by a trauma from early childhood that is muddled in misremembrance and living under a reputation marred by local rumor, Margaret Murphy has grown up under a pervading feeling of guilt that never lets her out of its grasp. In the dark hours of life we often turn to stories to make sense of our circumstances and light a candle of hope, yet Maragaret’s efforts to confess or seek atonement are under the scrutiny of the titular Poor Deer, a ghostly personification of guilt that kicks its hooves and demands only truth. All efforts to retell her past or imagine a brighter future are dashed under Poor Deer’s hooves and cast aside as ‘pretty lies.’ For Poor Deer ‘demands justice. She never forgives,’ and truth as well as the possibility of self-forgiveness or redemption become a mystery around which the novel spirals.
This one truly amazed and affected me. A quiet yet powerful book, Oshetsky deftly balances the murky, oppressive weight of guilt that permeates the story with a lightness and grace of prose as they harness the atmosphere of fairy tales in order to propel the story on a feeling of whimsicality even despite the darkness. The vibes are outstanding, this is an unforgettable and utterly unique book. A heartfelt and heartwrenching investigation into the ways shame can linger a lifetime and reframe our realities, Poor Deer is ultimately a moving expression as to ‘why we press on, even after all hope is lost,’ and makes for an incredible reading experience.
‘Wherever you go, I will go, and wherever you live, I will live; and your sorrows will be my sorrows, and I will never leave you.’
While shame and guilt is often a frequent landscape to mine for literary insights, Oshetsky takes a rather unique approach that makes Poor Deer really unlike anything else I’ve ever read. It has a sense of magical realism, yet it reads with a fresh texture that defies easy categorization that touches upon the thematic insights into the ways truths sometimes don’t seem to line up. Poor Deer—a malapropism of the phrase “poor dear” Margaret hears after the tragedy of Agne’s death (several of these occur, humorously, in text such as Sister Bony Face being presumably Sister Boniface)—is a hulking, rather terrifying beast who personifies shame and the slope of her shoulders was the shape of grief itself.’ Always lurking in the corner or aggressively in Margaret’s face, Poor Deer is unsettling yet whimsical in a way only the best of A24 films could try to capture. ‘Are you my angel or my devil,’ young Margaret asks only to realize this dichotomy is beside the point for this beast.
‘There's always a price to pay for our sins and follies, Bunny, and you'll be paying that price forever and a day.’
This is often a difficult book to read as the focal point of tragedy is the horrific death of a 4 year old child (not a spoiler, we know right away but the mystery is a question of culpability) and the equally horrific treatment of the 4 year old who survives the day. It is truly shattering to experience a young girl feeling the rejection of her own mother as Oshetsky examines how one death can send a shockwave of destruction through two families and beyond (the element that Florence loses her best friend and potential love interest due to the tragedy is another really excellent thread in the story). Margaret, too young to fully comprehend, will now spend her life trying to sort out her shame and the events of that day, unable to feel forgiveness externally making self-forgiveness all the more fleeting. Set in a present as Margaret is 16 and writing her past from a motel room after picking up a stranger and her young child, most of the novel meanders through the whole of her life, bringing us back to the present where further lives may be in peril.
‘Guilt is the worst of all. Guilt is the hollow heart of it. Guilt will follow her everywhere, two steps behind.’
Margaret’s proximity to forgiveness and redemption is further exacerbated by her and her community's Catholicism, being lashed by proclamations of damnation and several symbolic moments of churches bearing down upon her. We also have the loss of a finger that possibly serves as a sort of mark of Cain symbolism. It becomes complex though as religion also offers a path for forgiveness and even when someone offers her that as an opportunity, Margaret feels unworthy because of what she has done.
Always the blockade and barrier, Poor Deer brushes aside any hope of forgiveness, even when Margaret attempts to confess. ‘God isn’t stronger than me,’ Poor Deer warns, ‘no one is stronger than me.’ In an interveiw with Shelbi Polk for Shondaland, Oshetsky discusses ‘growing up in a Catholic household, which was very mystical and very mixed with superstition,’ and how that informs the way the religious and fairy tale elements coalesce here as well as the way religions offers no solace for Margaret:
Without anywhere else to turn, Margaret finds solace in storytelling. Despite the sorrow, her childhood has been full of ‘incantatory wonderings’ on the ways ‘words strung out like unmatched beads on a wire’ and she harnesses words like a tool to dig at an understanding of the past and an avenue to imagine possible futures.
‘You’ve told it all wrong again — you little monster.’
Neil Gaiman—in a paraphrase of G.K. Chesterton—wrote that ‘fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.’ We see this here and the ways storytelling, such as this dark fairy tale-esque novel, is a way for Margaret to ‘finally beginning to figure out how to untie the impossible knot of a problem that had tied me up, for all the years of my life.’ Even if Poor Deer demands she rewrite again and again to finally embrace the truth, each new attempt at individual pieces gives her a deeper understanding of the whole.
When are ‘pretty lies’ or ‘pretty stories’ a harmful lie and when are they a solace that helps better understand truth from the abstract. It is like the story Margaret hears of The Little Match Girl where it ends in death but the girl going to God is a solace, yet when Margaret insists Agnes is an angel she is called a fool and told Agnes ‘is in the ground.’ Is one or the other a better framing, and is Poor Deer’s insistence on a life for a life a better redemption than one Margaret can dream up?
‘No one had ever told Margaret that they exdpected great things of her before. She couldn’t change the past, but maybe one day she could make up for it.’
A short novel that will truly bore deep into your heart and shake you up inside, Claire Oshetsky’s Poor Deer is an absolute success. Often ambiguous as is seeks out the elusive answers to its own mysteries, this is an emotional ride that plunges you deep in examinations of grief and shame. Though don’t worry, you will arrive on the other side much better for it. While it does hit you with really heavy scenes it is all interspersed with rather comic vignettes that really break up the weight of things. With incredible prose and a fascinating narrative, Poor Deer is a must read that will haunt me for a long time to come.
5/5
‘Even in the most terrible chapters of my life, I’ve always known a certain savage beauty.’
This one truly amazed and affected me. A quiet yet powerful book, Oshetsky deftly balances the murky, oppressive weight of guilt that permeates the story with a lightness and grace of prose as they harness the atmosphere of fairy tales in order to propel the story on a feeling of whimsicality even despite the darkness. The vibes are outstanding, this is an unforgettable and utterly unique book. A heartfelt and heartwrenching investigation into the ways shame can linger a lifetime and reframe our realities, Poor Deer is ultimately a moving expression as to ‘why we press on, even after all hope is lost,’ and makes for an incredible reading experience.
‘Wherever you go, I will go, and wherever you live, I will live; and your sorrows will be my sorrows, and I will never leave you.’
While shame and guilt is often a frequent landscape to mine for literary insights, Oshetsky takes a rather unique approach that makes Poor Deer really unlike anything else I’ve ever read. It has a sense of magical realism, yet it reads with a fresh texture that defies easy categorization that touches upon the thematic insights into the ways truths sometimes don’t seem to line up. Poor Deer—a malapropism of the phrase “poor dear” Margaret hears after the tragedy of Agne’s death (several of these occur, humorously, in text such as Sister Bony Face being presumably Sister Boniface)—is a hulking, rather terrifying beast who personifies shame and the slope of her shoulders was the shape of grief itself.’ Always lurking in the corner or aggressively in Margaret’s face, Poor Deer is unsettling yet whimsical in a way only the best of A24 films could try to capture. ‘Are you my angel or my devil,’ young Margaret asks only to realize this dichotomy is beside the point for this beast.
‘There's always a price to pay for our sins and follies, Bunny, and you'll be paying that price forever and a day.’
This is often a difficult book to read as the focal point of tragedy is the horrific death of a 4 year old child (not a spoiler, we know right away but the mystery is a question of culpability) and the equally horrific treatment of the 4 year old who survives the day. It is truly shattering to experience a young girl feeling the rejection of her own mother as Oshetsky examines how one death can send a shockwave of destruction through two families and beyond (the element that Florence loses her best friend and potential love interest due to the tragedy is another really excellent thread in the story). Margaret, too young to fully comprehend, will now spend her life trying to sort out her shame and the events of that day, unable to feel forgiveness externally making self-forgiveness all the more fleeting. Set in a present as Margaret is 16 and writing her past from a motel room after picking up a stranger and her young child, most of the novel meanders through the whole of her life, bringing us back to the present where further lives may be in peril.
‘Guilt is the worst of all. Guilt is the hollow heart of it. Guilt will follow her everywhere, two steps behind.’
Margaret’s proximity to forgiveness and redemption is further exacerbated by her and her community's Catholicism, being lashed by proclamations of damnation and several symbolic moments of churches bearing down upon her. We also have the loss of a finger that possibly serves as a sort of mark of Cain symbolism. It becomes complex though as religion also offers a path for forgiveness and even when someone offers her that as an opportunity, Margaret feels unworthy because of what she has done.
‘I expect great things of you, Margaret Murphy. Because you have suffered. There will come a day when you will get your chance. You will atone. You will save a life. You will change the world for the better. I believe it. I’ve prayed over it. One day God is going to put the chance right there in front of you.’
Always the blockade and barrier, Poor Deer brushes aside any hope of forgiveness, even when Margaret attempts to confess. ‘God isn’t stronger than me,’ Poor Deer warns, ‘no one is stronger than me.’ In an interveiw with Shelbi Polk for Shondaland, Oshetsky discusses ‘growing up in a Catholic household, which was very mystical and very mixed with superstition,’ and how that informs the way the religious and fairy tale elements coalesce here as well as the way religions offers no solace for Margaret:
‘My idea of God was very fairy tale-like. Sometimes it was mixed up with The Wizard of Oz. So, it seemed very natural to me to write that way. A child would have this fairy tale-like understanding of the world, and of God, and of sin and forgiveness…Catholicism has zero answers for this little girl. If you’re 4 and you kill someone, that’s not a sin. You’re not capable of mortal sin. So, how could she even confess it? It’s outside of the religion entirely. And yet, of course, she’s gonna carry that guilt forward forever. So, I wanted to explore that too, the way faith totally fails her. It has no answers for her.’
Without anywhere else to turn, Margaret finds solace in storytelling. Despite the sorrow, her childhood has been full of ‘incantatory wonderings’ on the ways ‘words strung out like unmatched beads on a wire’ and she harnesses words like a tool to dig at an understanding of the past and an avenue to imagine possible futures.
‘You’ve told it all wrong again — you little monster.’
Neil Gaiman—in a paraphrase of G.K. Chesterton—wrote that ‘fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.’ We see this here and the ways storytelling, such as this dark fairy tale-esque novel, is a way for Margaret to ‘finally beginning to figure out how to untie the impossible knot of a problem that had tied me up, for all the years of my life.’ Even if Poor Deer demands she rewrite again and again to finally embrace the truth, each new attempt at individual pieces gives her a deeper understanding of the whole.
‘When I finally did find a way to untie that impossible knot, then all the most important questions in life would be answered. Why we love. Why we suffer. How we make sense of the happenings in our lives. The stories we tell ourselves to make it through to the next day. Why we press on, even after all hope is lost.’
When are ‘pretty lies’ or ‘pretty stories’ a harmful lie and when are they a solace that helps better understand truth from the abstract. It is like the story Margaret hears of The Little Match Girl where it ends in death but the girl going to God is a solace, yet when Margaret insists Agnes is an angel she is called a fool and told Agnes ‘is in the ground.’ Is one or the other a better framing, and is Poor Deer’s insistence on a life for a life a better redemption than one Margaret can dream up?
‘No one had ever told Margaret that they exdpected great things of her before. She couldn’t change the past, but maybe one day she could make up for it.’
A short novel that will truly bore deep into your heart and shake you up inside, Claire Oshetsky’s Poor Deer is an absolute success. Often ambiguous as is seeks out the elusive answers to its own mysteries, this is an emotional ride that plunges you deep in examinations of grief and shame. Though don’t worry, you will arrive on the other side much better for it. While it does hit you with really heavy scenes it is all interspersed with rather comic vignettes that really break up the weight of things. With incredible prose and a fascinating narrative, Poor Deer is a must read that will haunt me for a long time to come.
5/5
‘Even in the most terrible chapters of my life, I’ve always known a certain savage beauty.’
August 12, 2023
They lived in a mill town, the sky and houses, "perpetual yellow from a soft sulfurous gauze...the town bordered by...sad farms...beyond the fields-untended woods..".
Quiet, introspective, four year old Margaret "Bunny" Murphy, enjoyed reading her aunt's fairy tale compendium, sitting under the kitchen table. She loved fairy tales with happy endings. A self-taught reader and writer, she was able to craft her own fairy tales with made-up endings. She wrote in a secret, ritualistic language using cyphers.
Four year old, Agnes Bickford was bold and adventurous. Holding hands, Margaret and Agnes inquisitively explored "that dazzle-bright lake at the end of the street." The schoolyard flood..."a mysterious lake stretching all the way to the school building."
Now, Agnes was in a "better place." Margaret soundlessly continued to hide under the kitchen table. She spent her time rereading and writing new cryptic fairy tales that she stored in a shoebox under her bed. She played with her clothespin family while hiding in her bedroom closet. Unfortunately, Margaret had a monkey on her back. Poor Deer, a strange creature with sharp yellow tooth nubs and cloven feet, becomes incorporated within Margaret's play time. "Sometimes guilt looks like a sad thing weeping in the corner. Never leaving. Always blaming." But...how does a four year old process shame, guilt and possible complicity in a tragedy? Poor Deer discounted the many versions of the schoolyard flood as penned by Margaret.
Gossipmongers and neighbor theorists played the blame game. Relationships fractured. Time passed and now 16 year old Margaret sits in a dilapidated motor lodge trying to write the truth of the schoolyard flood and what happened to two young girls.
"Poor Deer" by Claire Oshetsky is an emotional, unsettling read. A fairy tale loving young girl is left alone, to work through her complicity, shame and/or guilt. Margaret's play therapy of sorts, occurs in her places of comfort under the kitchen table and in her bedroom closet with her clothespin dolls. Verbalization of the events, by four year old Margaret, was disbelieved. Poor Deer, however, would never forgive. The truth must out. A highly recommended, unputdownable read.
Thank you Ecco and Net Galley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Quiet, introspective, four year old Margaret "Bunny" Murphy, enjoyed reading her aunt's fairy tale compendium, sitting under the kitchen table. She loved fairy tales with happy endings. A self-taught reader and writer, she was able to craft her own fairy tales with made-up endings. She wrote in a secret, ritualistic language using cyphers.
Four year old, Agnes Bickford was bold and adventurous. Holding hands, Margaret and Agnes inquisitively explored "that dazzle-bright lake at the end of the street." The schoolyard flood..."a mysterious lake stretching all the way to the school building."
Now, Agnes was in a "better place." Margaret soundlessly continued to hide under the kitchen table. She spent her time rereading and writing new cryptic fairy tales that she stored in a shoebox under her bed. She played with her clothespin family while hiding in her bedroom closet. Unfortunately, Margaret had a monkey on her back. Poor Deer, a strange creature with sharp yellow tooth nubs and cloven feet, becomes incorporated within Margaret's play time. "Sometimes guilt looks like a sad thing weeping in the corner. Never leaving. Always blaming." But...how does a four year old process shame, guilt and possible complicity in a tragedy? Poor Deer discounted the many versions of the schoolyard flood as penned by Margaret.
Gossipmongers and neighbor theorists played the blame game. Relationships fractured. Time passed and now 16 year old Margaret sits in a dilapidated motor lodge trying to write the truth of the schoolyard flood and what happened to two young girls.
"Poor Deer" by Claire Oshetsky is an emotional, unsettling read. A fairy tale loving young girl is left alone, to work through her complicity, shame and/or guilt. Margaret's play therapy of sorts, occurs in her places of comfort under the kitchen table and in her bedroom closet with her clothespin dolls. Verbalization of the events, by four year old Margaret, was disbelieved. Poor Deer, however, would never forgive. The truth must out. A highly recommended, unputdownable read.
Thank you Ecco and Net Galley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
February 10, 2024
Poor Deer by Claire Oshetsky is a Blend of Literary Fiction and Magical Realism!
Margaret Murphy is a four-year-old child who experiences the tragic loss of Agnes, her best friend. Her mother forbids her to talk about what happened that day. She insists to Margaret and all who will listen that her daughter was home with her, inside the house, that entire day.
But Margaret feels the whispers swirling around her and now she's forced to keep that day hidden away.
And, so begins Margaret's journey from creating her own written language and making up stories that only have happy endings, to meeting the thing that crouches in corners and taunts her, Poor Deer...
I love Oshetsky's debut novel Chouette for its creativity, uniqueness, and brilliance. Its noisiness caught my attention and its boldness captured me completely.
Poor Deer feels much softer, quieter, and more reflective. Yet it's a sad, somewhat shocking, and mesmerizing story with simple beautiful writing and storytelling that is thoughtful, thought-provoking, and at times, holds a shadow of darkness.
I enjoyed traveling the many pathways of Margaret's story where the lines become blurred between real and imagined. It does have a fairy tale quality to it, but it also offers lessons of an allegory about understanding, forgiving, and embracing the child within us. My heart did ache for poor dear, Margaret.
Poor Deer is the essence of what a five-star read is for me. Original. Creative. Different. I now know that when I begin reading a book by Claire Oshetsky, it's an opportunity to feel the joy of letting my imagination fly. I highly recommend this book!
5⭐
Thank you to NetGalley, Ecco, and Claire Oshetsky for an ARC of this book. It has been an honor to give my honest and voluntary review.
Margaret Murphy is a four-year-old child who experiences the tragic loss of Agnes, her best friend. Her mother forbids her to talk about what happened that day. She insists to Margaret and all who will listen that her daughter was home with her, inside the house, that entire day.
But Margaret feels the whispers swirling around her and now she's forced to keep that day hidden away.
And, so begins Margaret's journey from creating her own written language and making up stories that only have happy endings, to meeting the thing that crouches in corners and taunts her, Poor Deer...
I love Oshetsky's debut novel Chouette for its creativity, uniqueness, and brilliance. Its noisiness caught my attention and its boldness captured me completely.
Poor Deer feels much softer, quieter, and more reflective. Yet it's a sad, somewhat shocking, and mesmerizing story with simple beautiful writing and storytelling that is thoughtful, thought-provoking, and at times, holds a shadow of darkness.
I enjoyed traveling the many pathways of Margaret's story where the lines become blurred between real and imagined. It does have a fairy tale quality to it, but it also offers lessons of an allegory about understanding, forgiving, and embracing the child within us. My heart did ache for poor dear, Margaret.
Poor Deer is the essence of what a five-star read is for me. Original. Creative. Different. I now know that when I begin reading a book by Claire Oshetsky, it's an opportunity to feel the joy of letting my imagination fly. I highly recommend this book!
5⭐
Thank you to NetGalley, Ecco, and Claire Oshetsky for an ARC of this book. It has been an honor to give my honest and voluntary review.
January 23, 2024
In a Nutshell: A dark and quirky literary fiction about a poor dear who is haunted by a “Poor Deer”. Grief and hope intermingled with magical realism and atmospheric writing. If all this intrigues you, this book is for you.
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Story Synopsis:
I had first experienced Claire Oshetsky’s writing when I read her debut novel, Chouette – a one-of-a-kind work. It was so visceral an experience that I was mesmerized by its prose though I didn't grasp the allegorical writing in its entirety. (I read the whole book front to back twice!) Chouette is the only book that I've advocated to my friends despite rating it just 3.25 stars. So when I saw Oshetsky’s second book on NetGalley, I didn't hesitate before opting for it.
In almost all ways, this has been a better reading experience than Chouette, not because the writing has improved (it was already excellent!), but because the reality level of this book is more my cup of tea. The surrealism is much toned down, the metaphors are more grounded (my brain can't process too much of 'abstract'), and the pacing is steadier (though not faster, which is expected in literary fiction.)
Where the author truly shines is in her creation of the setting. She has an unbelievable style of writing that helps us regenerate every scene in our minds clearly. At the same time, the descriptions don't go overboard in such a way that you feel drowned under the strain of pure atmosphere with no core content. The text balances plot and prose beautifully.
I liked the decision of presenting this innovative plot as a frame story, and also the style of presentation. The present time is written in Margaret’s first person voice, but she writes about her past using the third person syntax for herself. It is almost as if Margaret of the present wants to distance herself from four-year-old Margaret and the crime she committed.
The basic plot could have been rooted in reality, but the author imbues her lead character with a fanciful creative faculty. Margaret is an unreliable narrator, but not in the way you would imagine. She misguides not to trick you but to present a better picture of herself and to put to paper what she wanted than what she got. Margaret thus has the habit of interweaving facts and fantasy in such a way that you won't be able to spot the seam in between. ”Poor Deer” (I loved the origin of this nomenclature – the unintentionally hilarious creation of a child’s mind!) is the best example of how bizarre her mind gets, and yet, Poor Deer is compelling enough to be considered a tangible part of the storyline. Keeping in mind that contemporary Margaret is just a teenager is vital, as her writing indicates her self-absorption, with her wishful redemption being the nucleus of her confession.
The characters are also memorable, though it is very tough to connect with all of them completely. Margaret's character development is excellent. Her flashback begins when she is four years old, and as is common with adult narrators talking of their childhood, the memories are inaccurate. However, while the typical tone of such writing is nostalgic, Margaret's are varnished with the tint of haunting loss, focussing on the grief and hurts that she tries to offset with her wild imagination. Right from her creative prayers to her habit of seeking escape in books to her chats with “Poor Deer”, she makes for an intriguing lead – an unusual combination of vulnerable yet strong.
The supporting cast is also sturdy, though their roles are much limited as the narration is Margaret’s and she focusses mostly on herself. Her mom Florence and her aunt Dolly have a substantial and impressive presence. Some of the minor characters such as young Agnes, the school teacher Mr. Blunt, and the kindergarten teacher Mrs. Rudnicki leave their marks within the little page space they get. That said, I wanted to know much more about Penny and Glo – their arcs seemed rootless, though not pointless.
Why I didn’t go higher in my rating is mainly because of the final quarter or so. Somehow, the climactic scenes didn’t satisfy me the way I expected them to, though they made sense in the flow of the plot. I wanted something more hardhitting but the ending felt quite tame compared to the brilliance of the rest of the story.
If you want something typical or rooted in reality, this isn’t the book for you. But if you are the kind of reader willing to explore the furthest realms of the mind without crossing into the surreal, if you can go with the flow and accept what’s told while grasping what’s untold, if you enjoy character-driven fiction even when the character who drives the story isn’t driving straight - please try this book. This isn't just a novel. It's storytelling!
4.25 stars.
My thanks to Ecco and NetGalley for the DRC of “Poor Deer”. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the book.
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Story Synopsis:
Margaret’s first memory is of the day the local school ground flooded. This was also the day when four-year-old Margaret’s life changed forever. With a burden too great for her little shoulders to bear, she turned to fairy tales, both on paper and in her mind, to escape her loneliness.
Now at sixteen, Margaret is penning her confession, goaded by Poor Deer, a strange creature who seems to have great power over Margaret, as she knows her too well.
How much of the confession is true? Is Margaret able to differentiate between fact and fiction in her mind? Who is Poor Deer and why does she have such a hold over Margaret?
Most of the plot comes to us through the frame story of Margaret writing her 'confession' about the past from the contemporary time.
I had first experienced Claire Oshetsky’s writing when I read her debut novel, Chouette – a one-of-a-kind work. It was so visceral an experience that I was mesmerized by its prose though I didn't grasp the allegorical writing in its entirety. (I read the whole book front to back twice!) Chouette is the only book that I've advocated to my friends despite rating it just 3.25 stars. So when I saw Oshetsky’s second book on NetGalley, I didn't hesitate before opting for it.
In almost all ways, this has been a better reading experience than Chouette, not because the writing has improved (it was already excellent!), but because the reality level of this book is more my cup of tea. The surrealism is much toned down, the metaphors are more grounded (my brain can't process too much of 'abstract'), and the pacing is steadier (though not faster, which is expected in literary fiction.)
Where the author truly shines is in her creation of the setting. She has an unbelievable style of writing that helps us regenerate every scene in our minds clearly. At the same time, the descriptions don't go overboard in such a way that you feel drowned under the strain of pure atmosphere with no core content. The text balances plot and prose beautifully.
I liked the decision of presenting this innovative plot as a frame story, and also the style of presentation. The present time is written in Margaret’s first person voice, but she writes about her past using the third person syntax for herself. It is almost as if Margaret of the present wants to distance herself from four-year-old Margaret and the crime she committed.
The basic plot could have been rooted in reality, but the author imbues her lead character with a fanciful creative faculty. Margaret is an unreliable narrator, but not in the way you would imagine. She misguides not to trick you but to present a better picture of herself and to put to paper what she wanted than what she got. Margaret thus has the habit of interweaving facts and fantasy in such a way that you won't be able to spot the seam in between. ”Poor Deer” (I loved the origin of this nomenclature – the unintentionally hilarious creation of a child’s mind!) is the best example of how bizarre her mind gets, and yet, Poor Deer is compelling enough to be considered a tangible part of the storyline. Keeping in mind that contemporary Margaret is just a teenager is vital, as her writing indicates her self-absorption, with her wishful redemption being the nucleus of her confession.
The characters are also memorable, though it is very tough to connect with all of them completely. Margaret's character development is excellent. Her flashback begins when she is four years old, and as is common with adult narrators talking of their childhood, the memories are inaccurate. However, while the typical tone of such writing is nostalgic, Margaret's are varnished with the tint of haunting loss, focussing on the grief and hurts that she tries to offset with her wild imagination. Right from her creative prayers to her habit of seeking escape in books to her chats with “Poor Deer”, she makes for an intriguing lead – an unusual combination of vulnerable yet strong.
The supporting cast is also sturdy, though their roles are much limited as the narration is Margaret’s and she focusses mostly on herself. Her mom Florence and her aunt Dolly have a substantial and impressive presence. Some of the minor characters such as young Agnes, the school teacher Mr. Blunt, and the kindergarten teacher Mrs. Rudnicki leave their marks within the little page space they get. That said, I wanted to know much more about Penny and Glo – their arcs seemed rootless, though not pointless.
Why I didn’t go higher in my rating is mainly because of the final quarter or so. Somehow, the climactic scenes didn’t satisfy me the way I expected them to, though they made sense in the flow of the plot. I wanted something more hardhitting but the ending felt quite tame compared to the brilliance of the rest of the story.
If you want something typical or rooted in reality, this isn’t the book for you. But if you are the kind of reader willing to explore the furthest realms of the mind without crossing into the surreal, if you can go with the flow and accept what’s told while grasping what’s untold, if you enjoy character-driven fiction even when the character who drives the story isn’t driving straight - please try this book. This isn't just a novel. It's storytelling!
4.25 stars.
My thanks to Ecco and NetGalley for the DRC of “Poor Deer”. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the book.
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March 3, 2024
picked this up after the cover caught my eye at a bookstore. who knew that deer could be little shits that taunt you to confront your trauma
March 16, 2024
4.5⭐
“It’s time to tell the truth.”
Sixteen-year-old Margaret Murphy has spent most of her young life haunted by the memories of a tragic episode from her childhood – an event that resulted in the death of her friend Agnes when they were both only four years old. The whispers, the rumors and her mother’s silent judgment would have made Margaret’s reality even more difficult to bear, but Margaret is an imaginative child with a love for fairy tales. The stories she weaves – the alternate realities in which she chooses to live in her own mind, stories with happy endings, help her cope with her trauma. But her respite, of sorts, is short-lived because an unwelcome character “Poor Deer” has found its way into her life and her story, reminding her of all she wants to forget.
Margaret is pushed by Poor Deer, a magical manifestation of her conscience, to confront her past and come to terms with the tragedy that has shaped her life. As Margaret struggles to separate truth from fiction we follow Margaret through the years, the people, places, and events that have led her to the present day – in a hotel room near Niagara Falls, sharing a room with the ever-present Poor Deer and two strangers who just might become a part of her story.
Poor Deer by Claire Oshetsky is a compelling work of fiction. The author deftly weaves past and present timelines into a fluid narrative that tells a tale of grief, trauma, guilt and hope that is both deeply emotional and profoundly thought-provoking. The author has done a brilliant job of penning Margaret’s thoughts and emotions as she evolves from a confused four-year-old child to the sixteen-year-old we meet at the beginning of the book from the perspective of present-day Margaret Well-thought-out characters, the fairy-tale/fable-like narrative (with dark overtones) that uses magical realism to depict very realistic and complex human emotions and the author’s sparse, yet evocative prose had me immersed in the story from the very first page.
Margaret is an endearing protagonist and her story is one that will stay with you.
“And whether I’m about to be the hero of my own story, or the villain, or the sacrificial lamb, or a person of no importance who is forgotten in the end, I won’t know until I’ve come to the final page.”
Many thanks to Ecco for the digital review copy via NetGalley. All opinions expressed in this review are my own. Poor Deer was published on January 09, 2024.
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“It’s time to tell the truth.”
Sixteen-year-old Margaret Murphy has spent most of her young life haunted by the memories of a tragic episode from her childhood – an event that resulted in the death of her friend Agnes when they were both only four years old. The whispers, the rumors and her mother’s silent judgment would have made Margaret’s reality even more difficult to bear, but Margaret is an imaginative child with a love for fairy tales. The stories she weaves – the alternate realities in which she chooses to live in her own mind, stories with happy endings, help her cope with her trauma. But her respite, of sorts, is short-lived because an unwelcome character “Poor Deer” has found its way into her life and her story, reminding her of all she wants to forget.
Margaret is pushed by Poor Deer, a magical manifestation of her conscience, to confront her past and come to terms with the tragedy that has shaped her life. As Margaret struggles to separate truth from fiction we follow Margaret through the years, the people, places, and events that have led her to the present day – in a hotel room near Niagara Falls, sharing a room with the ever-present Poor Deer and two strangers who just might become a part of her story.
Poor Deer by Claire Oshetsky is a compelling work of fiction. The author deftly weaves past and present timelines into a fluid narrative that tells a tale of grief, trauma, guilt and hope that is both deeply emotional and profoundly thought-provoking. The author has done a brilliant job of penning Margaret’s thoughts and emotions as she evolves from a confused four-year-old child to the sixteen-year-old we meet at the beginning of the book from the perspective of present-day Margaret Well-thought-out characters, the fairy-tale/fable-like narrative (with dark overtones) that uses magical realism to depict very realistic and complex human emotions and the author’s sparse, yet evocative prose had me immersed in the story from the very first page.
Margaret is an endearing protagonist and her story is one that will stay with you.
“And whether I’m about to be the hero of my own story, or the villain, or the sacrificial lamb, or a person of no importance who is forgotten in the end, I won’t know until I’ve come to the final page.”
Many thanks to Ecco for the digital review copy via NetGalley. All opinions expressed in this review are my own. Poor Deer was published on January 09, 2024.
Connect with me! ✏ Instagram ✏ My Blog ✏ The StoryGraph
March 15, 2024
"After the day of the schoolyard flood, Margaret begins to write happy endings of her own. Her made-up endings help her forget that singular moment in her life when everything went so wrong."
A sorrowful testament to the weight of grief and the burden of guilt. Oshetsky skillfully conveys the world through the eyes of a confused child and weaves a mutable tale in which the protagonist embarks on a vaguely hopeful quest for absolution. The first chapter is one I won't soon forget.
My thanks to Ecco for generously providing an advanced reading copy of this book.
A sorrowful testament to the weight of grief and the burden of guilt. Oshetsky skillfully conveys the world through the eyes of a confused child and weaves a mutable tale in which the protagonist embarks on a vaguely hopeful quest for absolution. The first chapter is one I won't soon forget.
My thanks to Ecco for generously providing an advanced reading copy of this book.
March 24, 2024
I am just glad that it is over. Glowing reviews from friends and people who I follow here propelled me toward this book but it was not for me and I am surprised myself since I really like fairy-tale/magical realm genre. But this was just boring.
September 23, 2023
Margaret is a imaginative child.. a little strange.. who likes to make up stories….
When she and her neighbor friend Agnes are four years old, they go out for a fun day of play which ends in a tragedy and Agnes dies.. Margaret is forever feeling guilty .. especially when being haunted by a fantastical creature she calls Poor Deer.
Poor Deer is a devilish looking creature always bothering her to tell the truth of what happened that day.
She is being raised by her aunt and mother but her mother has many thoughts of Margaret being guilty as is much of the mill town she is from… her only friend she makes is an old man on the other side of the woods who raises pigeons.
This is an endearing story.
Loved it..
Thank you to Netgalley and Ecco for the ARC!
When she and her neighbor friend Agnes are four years old, they go out for a fun day of play which ends in a tragedy and Agnes dies.. Margaret is forever feeling guilty .. especially when being haunted by a fantastical creature she calls Poor Deer.
Poor Deer is a devilish looking creature always bothering her to tell the truth of what happened that day.
She is being raised by her aunt and mother but her mother has many thoughts of Margaret being guilty as is much of the mill town she is from… her only friend she makes is an old man on the other side of the woods who raises pigeons.
This is an endearing story.
Loved it..
Thank you to Netgalley and Ecco for the ARC!
April 19, 2024
“Poor Deer came to me when I was small, and scared, and alone, and in need of hope, however fragile, that one day I would find a way to make up for what I’d done. Her hooves kick out at my shins. She nips and hurts. She clings and sighs. She demands justice. She never forgives.”
At the age of four, Margaret’s life is forever changed by a tragedy. Not the schoolyard flood, which also happened that day. Something far darker. Was she to blame? Over time, the incident, to her, seems ever more impenetrable. She’s too young to understand the implications, and her mother has decided that Margaret is a “changeling”—and turns away from her daughter with revulsion. Margaret’s Aunt Dolly steps in to give love and support.
But Margaret lives in her own world much of the time. Her guilt has engulfed her, despite not fully apprehending what she did. Rumors and whispers abound in the Maine mill town where she lives, she knows she is blamed for wrongdoing. Overwhelmed and emotionally ill-equipped fto absorb such fierce adult accusations for a girl her age, she invents a cloven-hooved creature she calls “poor deer” (from misinterpreting an adult saying, “poor dear”). This poor deer insists that Margaret come to terms with her role in the disastrous event, and this creature gives the story a fable-like presence.
As the book opens, Margaret is sixteen, in a hotel room trying to write her confession of what went wrong that day, during a game of “Awake Oh Princess” with her best friend, Agnes. Poor Deer is the most constant element of her life, an apparition that is the manifestation of her guilt and shame, that can reside in the corner of a room, or even on her shoulder. Beautifully written, the structure is defined with alternating chapters of her start-and-stop attempts to confess, and chapters about her painful childhood. Margaret has even invented an alternate written language that she uses to write her confession.
“I’ve been telling made-up stories for so long that the unadorned truth feels ugly and ungrammatical and the facts feel like borrowed broken things picked out at random from a jumble of hearsay and old gossip. Once I tried to tell my mother the truth about the day of the schoolyard flood and she slapped me and said: “MARGARET MURPHY, YOU WILL NEVER REPEAT THAT AWFUL LIE AGAIN!” and I never did.”
What Margaret does with her fabricated tales is create a soothing safe space --she writes false confessions with happy endings. Poor deer continues to be her conscience and admonish her for not telling the truth. She has done this for a dozen years, ripening her imagination. Magic and morality make a fine combination in this brilliant narrative that portrays how penning fiction may ultimately help Margaret grasp reality. Her only other sanctuary is meeting an old man in the woods who teaches her to train messenger pigeons—she's a quick study.
Oshetsky stands out in the remarkable way she writes an adult novel yet fluently captures a child's voice. The prose is delicate and exquisite, heart-breaking and devastating. The narrative was so powerful that I kept probing the basement of my own memories, certain that I’d done a similar action. That’s what I call twinning with a novel!
“Even the tiniest sliver of guilt can grow and fester until it becomes so gargantuan that it turns into a monster.” Meticulous and devastating, Poor Deer will resonate with me for a long time. Change is possible, redemption within reach. Margaret hopes for a happy ending.
At the age of four, Margaret’s life is forever changed by a tragedy. Not the schoolyard flood, which also happened that day. Something far darker. Was she to blame? Over time, the incident, to her, seems ever more impenetrable. She’s too young to understand the implications, and her mother has decided that Margaret is a “changeling”—and turns away from her daughter with revulsion. Margaret’s Aunt Dolly steps in to give love and support.
But Margaret lives in her own world much of the time. Her guilt has engulfed her, despite not fully apprehending what she did. Rumors and whispers abound in the Maine mill town where she lives, she knows she is blamed for wrongdoing. Overwhelmed and emotionally ill-equipped fto absorb such fierce adult accusations for a girl her age, she invents a cloven-hooved creature she calls “poor deer” (from misinterpreting an adult saying, “poor dear”). This poor deer insists that Margaret come to terms with her role in the disastrous event, and this creature gives the story a fable-like presence.
As the book opens, Margaret is sixteen, in a hotel room trying to write her confession of what went wrong that day, during a game of “Awake Oh Princess” with her best friend, Agnes. Poor Deer is the most constant element of her life, an apparition that is the manifestation of her guilt and shame, that can reside in the corner of a room, or even on her shoulder. Beautifully written, the structure is defined with alternating chapters of her start-and-stop attempts to confess, and chapters about her painful childhood. Margaret has even invented an alternate written language that she uses to write her confession.
“I’ve been telling made-up stories for so long that the unadorned truth feels ugly and ungrammatical and the facts feel like borrowed broken things picked out at random from a jumble of hearsay and old gossip. Once I tried to tell my mother the truth about the day of the schoolyard flood and she slapped me and said: “MARGARET MURPHY, YOU WILL NEVER REPEAT THAT AWFUL LIE AGAIN!” and I never did.”
What Margaret does with her fabricated tales is create a soothing safe space --she writes false confessions with happy endings. Poor deer continues to be her conscience and admonish her for not telling the truth. She has done this for a dozen years, ripening her imagination. Magic and morality make a fine combination in this brilliant narrative that portrays how penning fiction may ultimately help Margaret grasp reality. Her only other sanctuary is meeting an old man in the woods who teaches her to train messenger pigeons—she's a quick study.
Oshetsky stands out in the remarkable way she writes an adult novel yet fluently captures a child's voice. The prose is delicate and exquisite, heart-breaking and devastating. The narrative was so powerful that I kept probing the basement of my own memories, certain that I’d done a similar action. That’s what I call twinning with a novel!
“Even the tiniest sliver of guilt can grow and fester until it becomes so gargantuan that it turns into a monster.” Meticulous and devastating, Poor Deer will resonate with me for a long time. Change is possible, redemption within reach. Margaret hopes for a happy ending.
June 20, 2024
Two four year old girls play a game one morning, and only one survives.
This wonderful book is about telling the truth - most importantly, to ourselves. It's also about guilt, and grief, and the incredible weight that brings to the bearer.
The book is fable-esque, and has a metaphorical spirit to it, but it's wholly real. It's got a unique narrative structure, which flits in and out of first and third person. One is the protagonist point of view, the other is the "story" she is telling, as she remembers, or allows herself to recount. Sometimes she needs to stop because the story is wrong. Poor Deer keeps her in check, and she eventually brings us to a fullness in understanding.
Although they are very different books, the tragic girlhood friendship brought to my mind Vesaas' The Ice Palace.
Some writing just zings and sings and reminds me why I read and why I write. It's a joyful experience being in Claire Oshetsky's pages. It's just that good.
This wonderful book is about telling the truth - most importantly, to ourselves. It's also about guilt, and grief, and the incredible weight that brings to the bearer.
The book is fable-esque, and has a metaphorical spirit to it, but it's wholly real. It's got a unique narrative structure, which flits in and out of first and third person. One is the protagonist point of view, the other is the "story" she is telling, as she remembers, or allows herself to recount. Sometimes she needs to stop because the story is wrong. Poor Deer keeps her in check, and she eventually brings us to a fullness in understanding.
Although they are very different books, the tragic girlhood friendship brought to my mind Vesaas' The Ice Palace.
Some writing just zings and sings and reminds me why I read and why I write. It's a joyful experience being in Claire Oshetsky's pages. It's just that good.
January 8, 2024
"There's always a price to pay for our sins and follies, Bunny, and you'll be paying that price forever and a day."
Margaret is only four, not yet in school, when the bad thing happens to her friend Agnes. Now her new friend, Poor Deer, is here to stay, riding around on Margaret's back like a bundle of sorrows for the rest of her days. This is a beautiful, completely immersive tale of guilt, anger, sadness, grief, and redemption. You may not like many of these characters, but it's not likely you'll forget them any time soon.
Thanks to NetGalley and Ecco for sharing.
Margaret is only four, not yet in school, when the bad thing happens to her friend Agnes. Now her new friend, Poor Deer, is here to stay, riding around on Margaret's back like a bundle of sorrows for the rest of her days. This is a beautiful, completely immersive tale of guilt, anger, sadness, grief, and redemption. You may not like many of these characters, but it's not likely you'll forget them any time soon.
Thanks to NetGalley and Ecco for sharing.
March 23, 2024
I’m a writer who makes my living as an editor. I usually abandon books that throw me into “editor’s head” where I’m noticing things to edit and nobody is paying me. Likewise, I usually abandon books where the writing is decent, but the voice, topic, or way of storytelling isn’t awful, but it’s just not my thing.
Claire Oshetsky’s work hits my favorite head: “admiring, somewhat larcenous, writer’s head.” This is a place where I’m gulping down the story, while also admiring the writing or technique so much that another part of me is whispering, “There is something I want to steal here. What the hell is it? Oh well, it’ll come by osmosis, just keep reading!”
Chouette, Oshetsky’s first magnificent novel, floored me and was so different from what I do that my thief voice wasn’t even there. Poor Deer brought out my larceny in spades because it is on my writer’s wavelength and the storytelling is so good, and in some way, so obvious yet subtle and complicated that it seems easy; I imagine anybody who writes would want to nab a little bit of it, but the method of construction is indescribable: it’s either completely organic and effortless or involved so much work and revision even the idea of doing it is exhausting. And because it works—switching voices, times, points of view, locales seemingly willy-nilly—there is no way to tell how Oshetsky worked it out.
Simply put, Claire Oshetsky is a brilliant, inspired storyteller.
I think it best to go into this book knowing as little as possible about it.
The End.
Claire Oshetsky’s work hits my favorite head: “admiring, somewhat larcenous, writer’s head.” This is a place where I’m gulping down the story, while also admiring the writing or technique so much that another part of me is whispering, “There is something I want to steal here. What the hell is it? Oh well, it’ll come by osmosis, just keep reading!”
Chouette, Oshetsky’s first magnificent novel, floored me and was so different from what I do that my thief voice wasn’t even there. Poor Deer brought out my larceny in spades because it is on my writer’s wavelength and the storytelling is so good, and in some way, so obvious yet subtle and complicated that it seems easy; I imagine anybody who writes would want to nab a little bit of it, but the method of construction is indescribable: it’s either completely organic and effortless or involved so much work and revision even the idea of doing it is exhausting. And because it works—switching voices, times, points of view, locales seemingly willy-nilly—there is no way to tell how Oshetsky worked it out.
Simply put, Claire Oshetsky is a brilliant, inspired storyteller.
I think it best to go into this book knowing as little as possible about it.
The End.
March 11, 2024
But then—just that quickly, even before Poor Deer has the chance to tell me what I’ve gotten wrong this time—I begin to doubt. I’ve been telling made-up stories for so long that the unadorned truth feels ugly and ungrammatical and the facts feel like borrowed broken things picked out at random from a jumble of hearsay and old gossip.
Poor Deer is the 2nd novel by Claire Oshetsky (known on Goodreads via the alter-ego Lark Benobi) after their brilliantly original Chouette.
I'm quite late to get to this one - it's unfortunately not been UK published and hence a bit hard to get - so I won't provide detailed comments, other than to say Oshetsky has created another memorable and distinctive narrative voice and unusual set-up. Here the character of Margaret who is anywhere from 4 to 16 to elderly when the novel is narrated(*), and her conscience / imaginary(?) friend Poor Deer:
Poor Deer comes back at dusk. Her pelt is damp and sweaty. Her back is bent. Her neck, twisted. The hymn of her blue robe is caked with mud as if she has travelled long distance to return to me. Her eyes are hard black marbles. Her crown is made of southern stars. Is she real? Does it matter? She is part of who I am.
Poor Deer came to me when I was small, and scared, and alone, and in need of help, however, fragile, that one day I would find a way to make up for what I’ve done. Her hoofs kick out at my shins, she nips and hurts. She clings and sighs. She demands justice. She never forgives. A tooth for a tooth, and a claw for a claw, she always says. A life for a life, she always says.
She leaves scat on the rugs, and cries easily.
She is my oldest friend.
(* 99.5% of the novel is apparently narrated by Margaret when she is 16 - but one of the novel’s many puzzles is who narrated the opening half page....)
The story opens with multiple accounts of a key day in Margaret's life, when she was 4 and she locked her childhood friend, Agnes, into a cooler box and couldn't work out how to release her, the friend eventually dying of suffocation. Or perhaps that never happened; or the friend was released in time and didn't die (as actually happened to Oshetsky's own friend); or perhaps she died but Margaret wasn't involved and the friend trapped herself while playing alone.
As a result of that she first encounters Poor Deer
Poor Deer is constantly correcting Margaret's story, forcing her to confront the truth. Or rather Poor Deer's version of the truth, as wonderfully the novel leaves open which - if any - of the version of the stories Margaret tells are true, and Poor Deer is as unreliable a narrator as Margaret.
Post-reading the book my appreciation was also enhanced by these Goodreads discussions from the New Literary Forum which Lark Benobi moderates, one with the author, where Claire explains how intricately the novel has been constructed, the other a buddy read deliberately without their intervention:
With the Author
Buddy Read
Another 5 star read from an incredible author.
Poor Deer is the 2nd novel by Claire Oshetsky (known on Goodreads via the alter-ego Lark Benobi) after their brilliantly original Chouette.
I'm quite late to get to this one - it's unfortunately not been UK published and hence a bit hard to get - so I won't provide detailed comments, other than to say Oshetsky has created another memorable and distinctive narrative voice and unusual set-up. Here the character of Margaret who is anywhere from 4 to 16 to elderly when the novel is narrated(*), and her conscience / imaginary(?) friend Poor Deer:
Poor Deer comes back at dusk. Her pelt is damp and sweaty. Her back is bent. Her neck, twisted. The hymn of her blue robe is caked with mud as if she has travelled long distance to return to me. Her eyes are hard black marbles. Her crown is made of southern stars. Is she real? Does it matter? She is part of who I am.
Poor Deer came to me when I was small, and scared, and alone, and in need of help, however, fragile, that one day I would find a way to make up for what I’ve done. Her hoofs kick out at my shins, she nips and hurts. She clings and sighs. She demands justice. She never forgives. A tooth for a tooth, and a claw for a claw, she always says. A life for a life, she always says.
She leaves scat on the rugs, and cries easily.
She is my oldest friend.
(* 99.5% of the novel is apparently narrated by Margaret when she is 16 - but one of the novel’s many puzzles is who narrated the opening half page....)
The story opens with multiple accounts of a key day in Margaret's life, when she was 4 and she locked her childhood friend, Agnes, into a cooler box and couldn't work out how to release her, the friend eventually dying of suffocation. Or perhaps that never happened; or the friend was released in time and didn't die (as actually happened to Oshetsky's own friend); or perhaps she died but Margaret wasn't involved and the friend trapped herself while playing alone.
As a result of that she first encounters Poor Deer
Poor Deer is constantly correcting Margaret's story, forcing her to confront the truth. Or rather Poor Deer's version of the truth, as wonderfully the novel leaves open which - if any - of the version of the stories Margaret tells are true, and Poor Deer is as unreliable a narrator as Margaret.
Post-reading the book my appreciation was also enhanced by these Goodreads discussions from the New Literary Forum which Lark Benobi moderates, one with the author, where Claire explains how intricately the novel has been constructed, the other a buddy read deliberately without their intervention:
With the Author
Buddy Read
Another 5 star read from an incredible author.
October 17, 2023
Margaret Murphy is 4 yrs old when her best friend is killed in a childhood game. Margaret, forbidden by her mother from telling the truth of what happened, grows up under a cloud of suspicion and rumors, and even doubts her own memories of that day and the awful game.
Claire Oshetsky shows remarkable insight into the mind of child struggling to sort memory from fantasy and to make sense of mixed messages and pieces of overheard conversations.
As they did in Chouette, Claire Oshetsky deftly uses magic realism to explore an innocent child’s journey from blame to understanding and forgiveness and thus is born Poor Deer, the gamey manifestation of Margaret’s guilt and grief, her relentless hoofed and antlered superego who won’t let her off the hook, interrupting Margaret’s imagined versions of events in which Margaret is the hero and all endings are happy, to insist that Margaret face the truth, tell the truth, and atone for her role in the death.
This story is cleverly, artfully told with memorable characters: Florence, Margaret’s mother, who publicly denies her daughter’s guilt while growing more repulsed by her daughter; Florence’s sister, Margaret’s beloved Aunt Dolly who shows Margaret the love she has craved; Ruby, the mother of the dead child; Penny and young Glo, who might or might not be part of one of Margaret’s created tales.
This is a quiet, slim novel that ends with a note of hope and leaves the reader with much to think about and I highly recommend it.
Poor Deer will be published January 2024 by Ecco.
Thank you, Claire, for sending me an early copy. I love it!
Claire Oshetsky shows remarkable insight into the mind of child struggling to sort memory from fantasy and to make sense of mixed messages and pieces of overheard conversations.
As they did in Chouette, Claire Oshetsky deftly uses magic realism to explore an innocent child’s journey from blame to understanding and forgiveness and thus is born Poor Deer, the gamey manifestation of Margaret’s guilt and grief, her relentless hoofed and antlered superego who won’t let her off the hook, interrupting Margaret’s imagined versions of events in which Margaret is the hero and all endings are happy, to insist that Margaret face the truth, tell the truth, and atone for her role in the death.
This story is cleverly, artfully told with memorable characters: Florence, Margaret’s mother, who publicly denies her daughter’s guilt while growing more repulsed by her daughter; Florence’s sister, Margaret’s beloved Aunt Dolly who shows Margaret the love she has craved; Ruby, the mother of the dead child; Penny and young Glo, who might or might not be part of one of Margaret’s created tales.
This is a quiet, slim novel that ends with a note of hope and leaves the reader with much to think about and I highly recommend it.
Poor Deer will be published January 2024 by Ecco.
Thank you, Claire, for sending me an early copy. I love it!
November 10, 2023
A little over a year ago, I read Claire Oshetsky’s Chouette with mounting fascination and I asked a question in my review: is life nothing more than a continuous retreat from our own true selves?
In Poor Deer, the question: what if the truth is too much for one little girl to endure? The little girl – Margaret Murphy – is only four years old when she inadvertently kills her best friend during a game played in an old toolshed. How does a child who is barely able to process the intricacy of thoughts and feelings navigate through the burden of guilt and shame?
The answer, as suggested here, is through the stories we weave and the fantasies we create – certainly not through faith or even the comfort of strangers. At the end of the day, it is up to Margaret to determine whether she will be "the hero of her own story , or the villain, or the sacrificial lamb, or a person of no importance who will be forgotten at the end."
Margaret will reach that conclusion through the help of Poor Deer, a cloven-footed, fantastical creature who, in a manner of speaking, holds Margaret’s own feet to the fire as she recounts the story at age 16. Any time that Margaret deviates from the truth in her telling, Poor Deer firmly guides her back to the real version. In doing so, Margaret, who has spent her young life feeling guilty and unloved, will discover why we love, why we suffer, and how to make sense of our lives. And she will also learn how the stories we tell ourselves help us make it through another day.
This fable-like novel is beautifully created and rendered. I am grateful to Ecco for providing me with an advance reader’s copy in exchange for an honest review.
#HarperCollins #Ecco #Poor Deer #Oshetsky
February 19, 2024
As a person who has studied and worked with trauma in children, I was curious about how this novel would portray the "blurb" within the body of the story. I wasn't disappointed. This was trauma personified, but handled in a way that was mostly gentle and almost whimsical, without ever being casual about the nature of psychic injury. That is no easy feat.
Take a young child, thrust her into a family dynamic she doesn't fit easily into, drop her into a moment her lack of experience can't reckon with, and you have the perfect storm for ongoing issues and scars.
Reminiscent of fables and fairy tales, we toggle between third and first-person narratives as we learn what that fateful moment entailed, following Margaret in the aftermath as she tries to make sense of what's happened and what it ultimately means to her life and sense of self; a jagged line as she matures and ages and integrates additional experiences on top of this formative one. The reader can't help but wish they could wave a wand over her life to rid her of those who add to her torment and replace them with a more kind and understanding tribe.
Seen through the lens of psychology, the magical elements of this story made perfect sense, and provided layers of meaning. This was an arduous journey away from shame and into the sea of hope. The "child experience" seemed very authentic and reminded me of so many I've known. A very different kind of trauma story, but a mesmerizing one.
Take a young child, thrust her into a family dynamic she doesn't fit easily into, drop her into a moment her lack of experience can't reckon with, and you have the perfect storm for ongoing issues and scars.
Reminiscent of fables and fairy tales, we toggle between third and first-person narratives as we learn what that fateful moment entailed, following Margaret in the aftermath as she tries to make sense of what's happened and what it ultimately means to her life and sense of self; a jagged line as she matures and ages and integrates additional experiences on top of this formative one. The reader can't help but wish they could wave a wand over her life to rid her of those who add to her torment and replace them with a more kind and understanding tribe.
Seen through the lens of psychology, the magical elements of this story made perfect sense, and provided layers of meaning. This was an arduous journey away from shame and into the sea of hope. The "child experience" seemed very authentic and reminded me of so many I've known. A very different kind of trauma story, but a mesmerizing one.
January 30, 2024
Poor Deer came to me when I was small, and scared, and alone, and in need of hope, however fragile, that one day I would find a way to make up for what I’d done. Her hooves kick out at my shins. She nips and hurts. She clings and sighs. She demands justice. She never forgives. A tooth for a tooth, and a claw for a claw, she always says. A life for a life, she always says. She leaves scat on the rug, and cries easily. She is my oldest friend.
Margaret “Bunny” Murphy was four years old when she was responsible for a terrible deed, and although she has carried that burden ever since — a burden which manifests as a blue-robed, yellow-nub-toothed doe that clings to her back, hissing in the girl’s ear that she is a liar — no one in the girl’s life has ever noticed her pain or thought to discuss with her the limited responsibility a four-year-old should bear for her actions (indeed, with an overlay of Catholic guilt, the shame that Margaret is steeped in threatens punishment in the next life, too). I come to this having viscerally loved Claire Oshetsky’s last novel, Chouette, and while Poor Deer is something different — more quiet, less intensely bizarre — Oshetsky’s writing is still lovely and contemplative and digs deep into the human psyche. So, while my personal taste runs more to the bizarre, this was still a very worthwhile read; recommended!
I’ve been telling made-up stories for so long that the unadorned truth feels ugly and ungrammatical and the facts feel like borrowed broken things picked out at random from a jumble of hearsay and old gossip. Once I tried to tell my mother the truth about the day of the schoolyard flood and she slapped me and said: “MARGARET MURPHY, YOU WILL NEVER REPEAT THAT AWFUL LIE AGAIN!” and I never did.
When she was little, Margaret loved reading her aunt’s big book of fairy tales and making up her own — written in a cryptic language and stored in a shoe box — and always, Margaret’s stories had the happy endings that real life rarely sees. Now sixteen and having driven to a motel near Niagara Falls — in the company of a young mother and her little girl that Margaret picked up along the way — Margaret is ready to write out her “confession” on motel stationery, with Poor Deer piping up from her corner every time Margaret attempts to steer her story onto a happier path (I did like that I felt surprised every time that Poor Deer interrupts and Margaret would need to retread an earlier passage and branch it out into a different, truer, direction). Through her confession we learn how little support Margaret got from her single mother (her father having died “in the war”; the setting seems to be the 1950s), how everyone in her small hometown continued blaming her for what happened “on the day of the schoolyard flood”, and while she didn’t really have any friends (except, sometimes, heart-filling interactions with other outsiders), her aunt did try to be there for the girl — when she wasn’t working night shift at the mill and sleeping all day. It’s unclear whether Margaret had some kind of developmental delays, or whether that’s something her mother said to put her down, but the girl didn’t succeed at school, didn’t succeed socially, and couldn’t bring herself to participate at Church; unwilling to make a confession to the priest, unwilling to take communion. All because of the burden of guilt she felt for something that happened when she was four. As an examination of repressed childhood trauma (and the burdens, big and small, we all carry on our backs), and the cleansing power of shining a light in the dark recesses of the mind (we might not all need to pen an actual confession, but self-knowledge and -reflection are integral to mental health), Poor Deer brings forth ideas that aren’t talked about nearly enough, and I could appreciate the message.
I feel an ominous turn in this story coming. It’s looming over my future. I’m running out of time to find my happy ending. Poor Deer is giving me no guidance. She no longer interrupts my progress with caustic interjections or snide objections. At the moment my musty nemesis is nodding off in the corner. Her soft exhalations fill room 127 of Little Ida’s Motor Lodge with a pastoral peacefulness. She mumbles something incoherent in her sleep and sticks her long slow tongue out and licks her black nose and then she snuffles and sighs and tucks her head back under one hoof. Penny and Glo are sleeping the way they always do, all tangle-legged and a-tumble with their hair flung across the pillows. I’m rubbing the tip of my missing finger. I’m remembering the smell of bacon grease. I’m remembering a time when my mother loved me.
Much like the owl baby in Chouette, the deer riding Margaret’s back is a wonderful metaphor for a fact of human existence that might be otherwise hard to describe, and Oshetsky proves themselves, once again, a master of such metaphors. Lovely, touching — ultimately important — book.
February 4, 2024
How does a four year old little girl cope with an overwhelming guilt, an event that she really doesn’t understand and won’t understand for several years, until her brain is able to comprehend the full meaning of life and death, being alive and “gone to heaven”. Well, she becomes a story teller, mostly for her own sake to try to make every day more livable, and to be loved by her mother and aunt.
This is quite an amazing story of the life of four year old Margaret Murphy written in a style I haven’t experienced before. It works so well here. Playing Margaret’s “possible” stories of what has already or will happen off against the actual story…with Poor Deer as the voice/shade who keeps Margaret in line. A mix of the real and the fantastic that is just right.
A story of guilt in a child too young to deal with it, its affect on family and community, the psychological impact on so many, and the resilience that lies in the heart of a child growing up and trying to make sense of what is not really sensible.
Recommended
This is quite an amazing story of the life of four year old Margaret Murphy written in a style I haven’t experienced before. It works so well here. Playing Margaret’s “possible” stories of what has already or will happen off against the actual story…with Poor Deer as the voice/shade who keeps Margaret in line. A mix of the real and the fantastic that is just right.
A story of guilt in a child too young to deal with it, its affect on family and community, the psychological impact on so many, and the resilience that lies in the heart of a child growing up and trying to make sense of what is not really sensible.
Recommended
February 20, 2024
One thing you have to say about Claire Oshetsky is that she's not your average, run-of-the-mill author. Both Chouette, her last novel, and this one, are nothing less than magical reads. Here, she gets the way a four year old child would think and apply her own peculiar logic to words and actions of the adults around her. There is an event at the beginning of this book that has a profound effect on little Margaret Murphy, and her inability to forgive herself informs the rest of her life. This story has a fairy tale quality to it that seems to imitate the way a child would think as well. Sad, but with a dash of hope at the end, it was an amazing little novel, and a joy to read for the style and the prose.
November 24, 2023
This is a dark fairytale, but - like every good fairytale - it is sweet and tender too.
"This is a story about two little girls on the day of the schoolyard flood. It begins like this: (...) Paint me a mill town nestled in a bend of a river called Penobscot about as far east as you can imagine and three hours north of anywhere you’ve ever heard of."
I won't spoil, but something awful happens. It's about guilt and memory and trauma and revenge, and mostly about the stories we tell ourselves.
I enjoyed it very much: it manages to be light and serious at the same time, but also modern and timeless at the same time, with quirky side characters, surprising turns, fun choice of words, but also some pretty tough themes.
4,5
"This is a story about two little girls on the day of the schoolyard flood. It begins like this: (...) Paint me a mill town nestled in a bend of a river called Penobscot about as far east as you can imagine and three hours north of anywhere you’ve ever heard of."
I won't spoil, but something awful happens. It's about guilt and memory and trauma and revenge, and mostly about the stories we tell ourselves.
I enjoyed it very much: it manages to be light and serious at the same time, but also modern and timeless at the same time, with quirky side characters, surprising turns, fun choice of words, but also some pretty tough themes.
4,5
January 16, 2024
This little fable was unlike anything I have read, in the best possible way. It reminded me of the “color fairy” books (The Green Fairy Book, The Red Fairy Book, etc.) that I read as a child, infused with our contemporary understanding of things like neurodiversity and how The Body Keeps the Score. Poor Deer herself/itself is like Shame Anthropomorphized, one of the best - personifications (?) - of childhood-based shame that I could hope to encounter in fiction. My only complaint about this book is that I could have read about 400 more pages of it.
March 8, 2024
Incredible! What an absolutely STUNNING work of fiction! I loved Oshetshy’s first novel—Chouette—which won acclaim and several awards, and I’m sure the same is in store for Poor Deer. The author has an immense talent and, hopefully, she’ll continue putting it to use!!
I admit I can get too deeply immersed in the books I read and, this time, I truly wish I hadn’t. I was constantly “on edge”. In fact, I had to check its Goodreads page because, in addition to Fiction, Magical Realism, Literary Fiction, I was certain I’d see the Horror genre listed, too! I did not. But there certainly were several horrifying moments! I kept sensing Poor Deer about ready to pounce, but then, I perceived her as far more menacing than she’d been described. And even as Margaret began to think she might forgive herself some day, I could still feel that Poor Deer’s presence. Is it possible I have my own Poor Deer?😟
5 “Guilt: the Gift that Keeps on Giving” stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
I admit I can get too deeply immersed in the books I read and, this time, I truly wish I hadn’t. I was constantly “on edge”. In fact, I had to check its Goodreads page because, in addition to Fiction, Magical Realism, Literary Fiction, I was certain I’d see the Horror genre listed, too! I did not. But there certainly were several horrifying moments! I kept sensing Poor Deer about ready to pounce, but then, I perceived her as far more menacing than she’d been described. And even as Margaret began to think she might forgive herself some day, I could still feel that Poor Deer’s presence. Is it possible I have my own Poor Deer?😟
5 “Guilt: the Gift that Keeps on Giving” stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
June 25, 2024
Babies and young children do not come into this world with any knowledge. They build up this knowledge as they live and breathe. So a young child has no knowledge of or a rather hazy idea of what death means. Oshetsky examines how a young child tries to fathom what it means to die, what it means to kill, what an accident is. Doing this all alone in her mind without the help of the adults in whose care she is. Her only companion in this journey is the menacing guilt, which takes the form of a blue deer. Oshetsky does it very cleverly here, very subtly, word associations and imagery abound.
Creating stories (some might call them lies) are part of the healing process because they show what might be or what might have been or what will be. And as our world is built up as per our perceptions, Margaret's stories are a way to hold out the world, her life up to the sun and see the reflections of the sun beams striking the different angles.
Creating stories (some might call them lies) are part of the healing process because they show what might be or what might have been or what will be. And as our world is built up as per our perceptions, Margaret's stories are a way to hold out the world, her life up to the sun and see the reflections of the sun beams striking the different angles.
November 5, 2023
Wow! I was blown away with this book. The writing is amazing, Oshetsky is a wordsmith! I can see this author winning at every word game she’s ever played. She put words together that were so simple yet so descriptive. They drew me right in, and kept me riveted to the story. And what a story it is. A young girl is being raised by her mother and aunt. Before she is old enough to enter school something horrible happens to her best friend. Something she will blame herself for throughout this book. What an incredible look at how carrying guilt and shame can take on a life of its own. Loved it!
January 9, 2024
Now Available!
Claire Oshetsky, author of CHOUETTE, is back with another novel which centers mothers, children, and animal imagery. It's uncanny, unexpected, and touches on many themes. Oshetsky's voice is their own, so comparisons are not easy, however, I would say they remind me most of Sarah Rose Etter, Louisa Hall, and Claire Fuller. A word about the writing: it is beautifully expressive, especially when presenting the ordinary as moments of striking wonder.
The story begins with our protagonist, Margaret Murphy, and the conscience character of Poor Deer. Both appear immediately at the beginning of the book, which is actually the ending.
And then the backstory begins, as Margaret pens her own story with lyrical prose.
Margaret is from a tiny hamlet anchored by one local industry: the mill. The people seem resigned to their hard-edged lives, and like most in their situation, they lean on their spiritual lives for solace. It is a community near-frozen in waiting. It is a place where nothing much happens, except that they all believe that anything *could* happen. That is also why the children, in particular, flirt with danger. The known is boring. The woods beckon. The lack of excitement in the town doesn't stop the adults from dreaming. It's just that their kind of otherworlds have boundaries, and the imagination of the children is limitless.
As we are introduced to three adults: Florence, Dolores, and Ruby, it is clear that this novel will probably pass the Bechdel test. In the beginning, we may think of Florence as the perpetual beacon of hope, shining a light not to save a man, but so that one will save her. Dolores (Dolly) is seen as the cup of bitterness, the one who asks for little, but also perpetually walks the Via Dolorosa. Ruby has taken charge of her life, and seems self-contained, but though steady on the surface, she is roiling within. Each woman has a reason to feel cheated by life.
Florence is the mother of Margaret, who has one foot in the spirit world at all times, and Ruby is the mother of Agnes, a force of nature.
Margaret possesses many gifts but must keep them secret. One of her obsessions is to write happy endings to events in her life. She gets the idea from fairy tales. If them, why not her? And maybe overwriting events can make them easier to live with.
At this early point, we cannot be sure of the nature or purpose of Poor Deer, who seems to us to be a scraggly nagging scold, and perhaps a spirit or a projected figment of Margaret's consciousness. Yet it is Poor Deer who encourages Margaret to tell her story as it actually happened, and not how she wanted it to go, to face up to the truth. So, there is definite purpose to Poor Deer's existence. Though Poor Deer remains an enigma for now, what we do know, by the end of chapter one, is the exact nature of Margaret's terrifying memory, and why she might want to forget it.
With shifts in time, we see Margaret as a child, and as a young woman, an almost-adult. The almost part will be important. We want to know why Poor Deer is pushing Margaret to write out her story, her confession, as it were. The thing about confession is that it can be agonizing to admit, let alone write down. Margaret scratches her words with such force, she nearly tears the page. The aftermath is also unpredictable. We might expect to feel better afterwards, but it's more likely that we feel drained, not so much better, as lighter. And strangely, finally getting the truth out on the page can somehow feel false, even to us. Truths don't always have good endings, not like in fairy tale stories we read to children.
The stories we tell ourselves, so that we can live with ourselves, have a power all their own. If we try to protect ourselves with a made-up happy ending, or if, worse, someone tries to cover us with a story not even of our choosing, what does that do to our psyche, to our emotional development? Margaret already occupies a world of her own, with this added layer, she could separate from reality completely, and get lost in the world of the unreal, the untrue. They say "Honesty is the best policy," but is it? And Poor Deer seems especially cruel in this regard. It's hard to say what would be most helpful to Margaret. Blame and shame seem unlikely to help at all, though it is impossible to move forward without admitting at least to ourselves, what has happened in our lives. Margaret seems to realize that putting something in writing is an act of pulling it into the real world, in a concrete way.
It is in the midst of this philosophical tug of war within the older Margaret, that we meet two new characters, Penny and Glo, who seem only to serve as distraction. Margaret doesn't want to write out an accurate version of her own story, of course, but it is as if she is compelled by some invisible force. She cannot worry about Penny and Glo right now. She cannot focus on anything but this one burning task.
As we shift back to past events, it is not lost on this reader that adults are programmed to assign blame. They will blame someone for the same negligence they themselves are guilty of, even while discussing another's culpability. I greatly appreciate that the author allows us to notice these conflicts, without once pointing them out. Oshetsky trusts the reader. The author also has a very attuned sense of how a child's mind works: how they have so few outlets for their feelings, and therefore often become ungovernable, because they don't know what else to do. Adults can be just as lost when they try to express complicated feelings to their children. They often overcommunicate fear instead of care.
As an aside, the chapters are named for the liturgical seasons of the church calendar. We are, at first, not sure why, but it is so intentional, it must be important. We do know that Poor Deer exudes the attitude of the uncompromising stalwart rules of the old church. Poor Deer, despite the name, is not one bit sympathetic, and is much like the God of the Old Testament: unyielding, full of righteous anger, quick to blame, punish, and shame. Original sin is seen as sticky, only able to be washed away by righteous blood on the great and terrible Day of Judgment. Poor Deer often appears to Margaret as one who is suffering, and who blames her for it.
Is Poor Deer real? What is real? If the experience is real to you, is that not real enough?
Margaret has a keen sense of what is weighty, and expresses very little regard for everyday minutia. She seems poised for some future crashing catastrophe, and even seems amenable to risk-taking, just to break that tension. She feels like the entire world of nature stands to accuse her, just waiting for the day of reckoning, which must surely come soon.
As a precocious and unusual child, Margaret had taught herself to repeat certain words, often ones she had just heard, or relating to something important to her. These talisman words, when repeated, seemed to ground her, to keep her tethered to the world, like Biblical Ebenezers, the stones of help, she would gather them around her for protection. Margaret also seems to tap into synesthesia, categorizing patterns of speech into colors. She also sees emotions as concrete things which can be carried from one place to another, and perhaps take up residence there. Young Margaret tests out every hidden space she can find, to see if it will take her to some better place. When you can imagine yourself into new worlds, that doesn't seem like an impossible quest.
Florence doesn't see Margaret's penchant for hiding places, and the need to be joyfully found, as the psychological coping mechanism that it represents, and instead, makes the mistake that too many parents trip their way into: she tries to scare Margaret into compliance. This only aggravates and accelerates Margaret's sense of guilt and shame. So closely on the heels of hearing the words "poor dear," the child for whom words have colossal meaning, projects that intolerable part of herself into the embodiment form of Poor Deer.
The die is cast.
Near-adult Margaret can never fully relax, because she can never get away from herself. For twelve years, she's been trying. Since the Bible is a running theme in the background, it seems important to point out that twelve is the number of completeness. If Margaret knows this, even subconsciously, that means that something's gonna give.
Margaret not only thinks and processes differently from those around her, but she also needs a specific order to objects, and she is very sensitive to smells. In the time period of the story, she is seen as strange. Today, we would think of her as probably neurodivergent. Throughout history, people have treated the different as deficient or even evil. It's a disservice that hurts everyone, not just the target of misplaced disdain.
Throughout the story, the concept of blank spaces is a recurring theme. Some spaces are blank because of permanent separation, temporary separation, or even lack of satisfactory explanation. Margaret does not like blank spaces, and will create stories to fill those voids.
In the middle portion, between two dramatic events, Margaret has a few adventures for a bit, followed by a remarkably event-free interlude, her own "ordinary time," in the liturgical parlance. Even she knows that the blessed boring can't last forever, and when it breaks, it breaks hard.
Throughout the book, the reader could make a sort of game, discerning which parts of the story are true, and which are not (and will have to undergo revision according to the the watchful glare of Poor Deer).
As we near the climax of the story, it seems all the more fitting that Margaret is fated to head to something bigger and louder than her own perceived failings. Sometimes that's what you need to make sense of things: even some thundering cleansing grace. Is it a gigantic clean slate, a larger than life kind of forgiveness to wipe away every bit of doubt, confusion, and shame? Margaret is perilously close to fulfilling her purpose. She is as surprised as we are when she finds out what it is. Everything has been leading to this one crucial moment. It will take focus and strength. She will have to overcome her fears, and reduce all of her questions about life into a single purposeful razor-sharp point. There will be no room for vacillating or second-thoughts. The way forward is through. The author makes clear that this decision is neither clear nor easy for Margaret. Does Margaret even understand that forgiveness isn't transactional, that one deed can't cancel out another? That doesn't mean it's not the right thing to do, or that it won't cost you everything you have left.
The way in which Poor Deer insists that Margaret detail the end of her confessional treatise seems unlikely, even cagey, and it is.
Margaret is still unsure what her fate will be, but she is more sure what it won't be.
And for once, she has hope, not just for one day to be able to love and to be loved, not just to understand what life's purpose is all about, or even to gain the forgiveness she seeks, but most of all, she hopes to be able to forgive herself, to live her complete and true life, without having to make up other stories in order to live with herself.
It's a remarkable story.
Thank you to Ecco, an imprint of Harper Collins, and to NetGalley, for providing a review copy of this novel.
Claire Oshetsky, author of CHOUETTE, is back with another novel which centers mothers, children, and animal imagery. It's uncanny, unexpected, and touches on many themes. Oshetsky's voice is their own, so comparisons are not easy, however, I would say they remind me most of Sarah Rose Etter, Louisa Hall, and Claire Fuller. A word about the writing: it is beautifully expressive, especially when presenting the ordinary as moments of striking wonder.
The story begins with our protagonist, Margaret Murphy, and the conscience character of Poor Deer. Both appear immediately at the beginning of the book, which is actually the ending.
And then the backstory begins, as Margaret pens her own story with lyrical prose.
Margaret is from a tiny hamlet anchored by one local industry: the mill. The people seem resigned to their hard-edged lives, and like most in their situation, they lean on their spiritual lives for solace. It is a community near-frozen in waiting. It is a place where nothing much happens, except that they all believe that anything *could* happen. That is also why the children, in particular, flirt with danger. The known is boring. The woods beckon. The lack of excitement in the town doesn't stop the adults from dreaming. It's just that their kind of otherworlds have boundaries, and the imagination of the children is limitless.
As we are introduced to three adults: Florence, Dolores, and Ruby, it is clear that this novel will probably pass the Bechdel test. In the beginning, we may think of Florence as the perpetual beacon of hope, shining a light not to save a man, but so that one will save her. Dolores (Dolly) is seen as the cup of bitterness, the one who asks for little, but also perpetually walks the Via Dolorosa. Ruby has taken charge of her life, and seems self-contained, but though steady on the surface, she is roiling within. Each woman has a reason to feel cheated by life.
Florence is the mother of Margaret, who has one foot in the spirit world at all times, and Ruby is the mother of Agnes, a force of nature.
Margaret possesses many gifts but must keep them secret. One of her obsessions is to write happy endings to events in her life. She gets the idea from fairy tales. If them, why not her? And maybe overwriting events can make them easier to live with.
At this early point, we cannot be sure of the nature or purpose of Poor Deer, who seems to us to be a scraggly nagging scold, and perhaps a spirit or a projected figment of Margaret's consciousness. Yet it is Poor Deer who encourages Margaret to tell her story as it actually happened, and not how she wanted it to go, to face up to the truth. So, there is definite purpose to Poor Deer's existence. Though Poor Deer remains an enigma for now, what we do know, by the end of chapter one, is the exact nature of Margaret's terrifying memory, and why she might want to forget it.
With shifts in time, we see Margaret as a child, and as a young woman, an almost-adult. The almost part will be important. We want to know why Poor Deer is pushing Margaret to write out her story, her confession, as it were. The thing about confession is that it can be agonizing to admit, let alone write down. Margaret scratches her words with such force, she nearly tears the page. The aftermath is also unpredictable. We might expect to feel better afterwards, but it's more likely that we feel drained, not so much better, as lighter. And strangely, finally getting the truth out on the page can somehow feel false, even to us. Truths don't always have good endings, not like in fairy tale stories we read to children.
The stories we tell ourselves, so that we can live with ourselves, have a power all their own. If we try to protect ourselves with a made-up happy ending, or if, worse, someone tries to cover us with a story not even of our choosing, what does that do to our psyche, to our emotional development? Margaret already occupies a world of her own, with this added layer, she could separate from reality completely, and get lost in the world of the unreal, the untrue. They say "Honesty is the best policy," but is it? And Poor Deer seems especially cruel in this regard. It's hard to say what would be most helpful to Margaret. Blame and shame seem unlikely to help at all, though it is impossible to move forward without admitting at least to ourselves, what has happened in our lives. Margaret seems to realize that putting something in writing is an act of pulling it into the real world, in a concrete way.
It is in the midst of this philosophical tug of war within the older Margaret, that we meet two new characters, Penny and Glo, who seem only to serve as distraction. Margaret doesn't want to write out an accurate version of her own story, of course, but it is as if she is compelled by some invisible force. She cannot worry about Penny and Glo right now. She cannot focus on anything but this one burning task.
As we shift back to past events, it is not lost on this reader that adults are programmed to assign blame. They will blame someone for the same negligence they themselves are guilty of, even while discussing another's culpability. I greatly appreciate that the author allows us to notice these conflicts, without once pointing them out. Oshetsky trusts the reader. The author also has a very attuned sense of how a child's mind works: how they have so few outlets for their feelings, and therefore often become ungovernable, because they don't know what else to do. Adults can be just as lost when they try to express complicated feelings to their children. They often overcommunicate fear instead of care.
As an aside, the chapters are named for the liturgical seasons of the church calendar. We are, at first, not sure why, but it is so intentional, it must be important. We do know that Poor Deer exudes the attitude of the uncompromising stalwart rules of the old church. Poor Deer, despite the name, is not one bit sympathetic, and is much like the God of the Old Testament: unyielding, full of righteous anger, quick to blame, punish, and shame. Original sin is seen as sticky, only able to be washed away by righteous blood on the great and terrible Day of Judgment. Poor Deer often appears to Margaret as one who is suffering, and who blames her for it.
Is Poor Deer real? What is real? If the experience is real to you, is that not real enough?
Margaret has a keen sense of what is weighty, and expresses very little regard for everyday minutia. She seems poised for some future crashing catastrophe, and even seems amenable to risk-taking, just to break that tension. She feels like the entire world of nature stands to accuse her, just waiting for the day of reckoning, which must surely come soon.
As a precocious and unusual child, Margaret had taught herself to repeat certain words, often ones she had just heard, or relating to something important to her. These talisman words, when repeated, seemed to ground her, to keep her tethered to the world, like Biblical Ebenezers, the stones of help, she would gather them around her for protection. Margaret also seems to tap into synesthesia, categorizing patterns of speech into colors. She also sees emotions as concrete things which can be carried from one place to another, and perhaps take up residence there. Young Margaret tests out every hidden space she can find, to see if it will take her to some better place. When you can imagine yourself into new worlds, that doesn't seem like an impossible quest.
Florence doesn't see Margaret's penchant for hiding places, and the need to be joyfully found, as the psychological coping mechanism that it represents, and instead, makes the mistake that too many parents trip their way into: she tries to scare Margaret into compliance. This only aggravates and accelerates Margaret's sense of guilt and shame. So closely on the heels of hearing the words "poor dear," the child for whom words have colossal meaning, projects that intolerable part of herself into the embodiment form of Poor Deer.
The die is cast.
Near-adult Margaret can never fully relax, because she can never get away from herself. For twelve years, she's been trying. Since the Bible is a running theme in the background, it seems important to point out that twelve is the number of completeness. If Margaret knows this, even subconsciously, that means that something's gonna give.
Margaret not only thinks and processes differently from those around her, but she also needs a specific order to objects, and she is very sensitive to smells. In the time period of the story, she is seen as strange. Today, we would think of her as probably neurodivergent. Throughout history, people have treated the different as deficient or even evil. It's a disservice that hurts everyone, not just the target of misplaced disdain.
Throughout the story, the concept of blank spaces is a recurring theme. Some spaces are blank because of permanent separation, temporary separation, or even lack of satisfactory explanation. Margaret does not like blank spaces, and will create stories to fill those voids.
In the middle portion, between two dramatic events, Margaret has a few adventures for a bit, followed by a remarkably event-free interlude, her own "ordinary time," in the liturgical parlance. Even she knows that the blessed boring can't last forever, and when it breaks, it breaks hard.
Throughout the book, the reader could make a sort of game, discerning which parts of the story are true, and which are not (and will have to undergo revision according to the the watchful glare of Poor Deer).
As we near the climax of the story, it seems all the more fitting that Margaret is fated to head to something bigger and louder than her own perceived failings. Sometimes that's what you need to make sense of things: even some thundering cleansing grace. Is it a gigantic clean slate, a larger than life kind of forgiveness to wipe away every bit of doubt, confusion, and shame? Margaret is perilously close to fulfilling her purpose. She is as surprised as we are when she finds out what it is. Everything has been leading to this one crucial moment. It will take focus and strength. She will have to overcome her fears, and reduce all of her questions about life into a single purposeful razor-sharp point. There will be no room for vacillating or second-thoughts. The way forward is through. The author makes clear that this decision is neither clear nor easy for Margaret. Does Margaret even understand that forgiveness isn't transactional, that one deed can't cancel out another? That doesn't mean it's not the right thing to do, or that it won't cost you everything you have left.
The way in which Poor Deer insists that Margaret detail the end of her confessional treatise seems unlikely, even cagey, and it is.
Margaret is still unsure what her fate will be, but she is more sure what it won't be.
And for once, she has hope, not just for one day to be able to love and to be loved, not just to understand what life's purpose is all about, or even to gain the forgiveness she seeks, but most of all, she hopes to be able to forgive herself, to live her complete and true life, without having to make up other stories in order to live with herself.
It's a remarkable story.
Thank you to Ecco, an imprint of Harper Collins, and to NetGalley, for providing a review copy of this novel.
January 4, 2024
My first five star read of 2024 came early! Poor Deer is the story of a young girl named Margaret grappling with her complicity in the tragic death of her friend when they are 4 years old. Margaret's mom blames her as well in not so many words, but will not let the truth come out. Margaret is left alone to deal with the fact that her first real memory, her first real emotion, is true grief. Not the normal sadnesses of a child like losing a toy. She pushes these feelings away in any attempt to cope.
Poor DEAR is a line frequently directed towards Margaret. This is where the title comes in. Poor DEER is a physical yet imaginatory deer like being that becomes Margaret's shadow. Poor Deer is there to make sure Margaret atones for her wrongs.
I loved everything about this book. It reads like a fairy tale in the most untraditional sense. Oshetsky is doing unique things with her story telling with narratives shifting, making it so I truly could not put this book down. It is literary and accessible and magical and tender. Viewing grief and guilt through the eyes of a child as she grows give me chills and I will be thinking about this book for a long time.
Poor DEAR is a line frequently directed towards Margaret. This is where the title comes in. Poor DEER is a physical yet imaginatory deer like being that becomes Margaret's shadow. Poor Deer is there to make sure Margaret atones for her wrongs.
I loved everything about this book. It reads like a fairy tale in the most untraditional sense. Oshetsky is doing unique things with her story telling with narratives shifting, making it so I truly could not put this book down. It is literary and accessible and magical and tender. Viewing grief and guilt through the eyes of a child as she grows give me chills and I will be thinking about this book for a long time.
April 12, 2024
Absolutely brilliant. So perfectly imagined and executed - what a writer! Margaret Murphy and all the characters in this book will stay with me for a long time.
Highly, highly recommend.
Highly, highly recommend.
July 30, 2023
I recommend Claire Oshetsky’s novel, Chouette, to pretty much every reader I know. It’s a weird little tale about motherhood, humanity, and an owl baby. Oshetsky’s follow-up, Poor Deer, is another strange and beautiful tale.
The novel is narrated by Margaret, who, at the age of four, is involved in a horrific accident, one that shapes the course of her future. As Margaret tries to confess the truth behind the aforementioned accident, she is rebuked by Poor Deer, a strange figure with sharp yellow teeth, who will not allow Margaret lie to herself about her past. We follow Margaret through her tragic young life, as she constantly tries to deal with her trauma.
Oh Margaret. I loved her so much. As the mother of a young girl, it was easy for me to understand how emotionally ill-equipped a child is to deal with tragedy. As Margaret’s relationship with her mother deteriorated, my heart broke. As displayed so well in Chouette, Oshetsky is a master at capturing the many complexities of parent/child relationships, especially from the perspective of a mother.
For me, there were hints of Merricat Blackwood in Margaret. A young girl with little control over her surroundings, haunted by tragedy, finds comfort in strange rituals (or cyphers, in Margaret’s case), but clearly very special. Similarly, Oshetsky’s knack for the uncanny is not too far from Shirley Jackson.
Poor Deer is a very different work from Chouette, but still amazing. A devastating and moving novel about lost childhood, with an irresistible central character. Truly wonderful.
The novel is narrated by Margaret, who, at the age of four, is involved in a horrific accident, one that shapes the course of her future. As Margaret tries to confess the truth behind the aforementioned accident, she is rebuked by Poor Deer, a strange figure with sharp yellow teeth, who will not allow Margaret lie to herself about her past. We follow Margaret through her tragic young life, as she constantly tries to deal with her trauma.
Oh Margaret. I loved her so much. As the mother of a young girl, it was easy for me to understand how emotionally ill-equipped a child is to deal with tragedy. As Margaret’s relationship with her mother deteriorated, my heart broke. As displayed so well in Chouette, Oshetsky is a master at capturing the many complexities of parent/child relationships, especially from the perspective of a mother.
For me, there were hints of Merricat Blackwood in Margaret. A young girl with little control over her surroundings, haunted by tragedy, finds comfort in strange rituals (or cyphers, in Margaret’s case), but clearly very special. Similarly, Oshetsky’s knack for the uncanny is not too far from Shirley Jackson.
Poor Deer is a very different work from Chouette, but still amazing. A devastating and moving novel about lost childhood, with an irresistible central character. Truly wonderful.
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