‘You Haven’t Changed a Bit’ by Astrid Blodgett

Reviewed by Keith Cadieux  (originally posted Sept. 3, 2013)

Edmonton-based Astrid Blodgett’s debut story collection is a complex and darkly tinged look into the lives of troubled characters and the traumatic, life-altering events of their lives.

Blodgett’s stories have already garnered a fair amount of positive critical attention. The story “Ice Break” was a finalist for last year’s Journey Prize and is very much worthy of such attention, a definite highlight among these thirteen stories. It consists of parallel narratives of a father and his two daughters falling through the ice while looking for a spot to go ice fishing and the ordinary domestic happenings which lead up to that event. From the very beginning it is clear that they will end up in the ice and the fractured narrative works well, creating a tone of doom and suspense but also serving as an interesting metaphor as the fractured pieces of the story are refracted, only small details visible, like looking through broken ice.

There are quite a few other standout stories, one of the best being “New Summer Dresses,” about a family with two young girls on a picnic with family friends that takes an uncomfortable turn when the girls are left alone with the other couple, and also “Butterflies,” where a young boy enjoys seeing how his father is happiest interacting with two teenage girls helping around the family farm, but doesn’t quite understand why this is upsetting to his mother. His description of what he sees is quite sweet, asking his mother if she gets the same happy butterflies feeling his father gets when he is around the two girls: “ smoochy all over, from your head to your toes… and a tickling feeling inside.” He is perceptive enough to tap into his parents’ feelings but too young to understand their meaning.

While there are beautiful moments throughout the collection, the stories themselves are all quite dark and centre on the effects of emotional trauma, be it the tragic death of family members (“Ice Break”) or the looming spectre of infidelity (“Butterflies,” “Zero Recall,” “In the Meadow” and “Banana and Split”) or uncomfortable and unwelcome sexual experiences (“Tattletale” or “Giving Blood”). A cumulative effect of reading these stories in succession is a pervasive sense of dread, though it is not unwelcome and is fully warranted by the dark themes that they explore.

While the already mentioned “Butterflies” and another story entitled “Getting the Cat” are both told from the perspective of intriguing male characters, most of the stories focus on the troubles of female characters. For the most part, men are forces of destruction but they are never one-dimensional or simplistic. Their motivations are sometimes mysterious even to themselves and, as in the case of the narrator of “Getting the Cat,” the pain they cause may be entirely unintentional. Female characters are equally complex, though they appear more often as victims, and Blodgett has a real talent for child characters whose traumatic experiences force them to grow up too fast.

Infidelity is a major plot focus in a few of the stories but it never feels overused and Blodgett draws from a good variety of central conflicts and subject matter. At the same time, there are a couple of recurring elements or motifs. Several of the stories somehow involve lakes or cats, and giving blood pops up more than a few times. While these elements do not contribute to flaws in the stories, their recurrence is noticeable.

Most of the stories are exceptional but the last two do not quite live up to the standard set by the rest. “No Matter How Nicey-Nicey the Parents Were” is about a young woman interviewing to be the nanny for a couple of first-time parents. The story begins as an interesting and entertaining play with narrative perspective, as the narrator grows increasingly oblivious to how badly the interview is going, but there is a revelation about the girl being interviewed right at the end of the story that feels manipulative and serves little purpose other than to force readers to pity her. In “Banana and Split,” Kate and Liz are estranged sisters not on speaking terms but Kate is close with Liz’s teenage daughter, Haley. When Haley goes missing, the family thinks she may be headed to Kate and so the disgruntled sisters are forced to talk and confront the situation which led to their falling out. But when this conflict reaches a climax and is resolved, the missing teenager is left dangling. While short fiction can often get away with not tying up all its loose ends, this plot point feels too much like a MacGuffin used to force the sisters into talking to each other.

“You Haven’t Changed a Bit” has the complexity and texture you’d expect from a well-established short fiction writer. The fact that this is a debut collection is a remarkable achievement and should convince you to keep an eye out for more of Blodgett’s work.

University of Alberta | 184 pages |  $15.99 | paper | ISBN #978-0888646446