Agustina Bazterrica appeared on my book radar as a massive splotch rather than a small blip. Tender Is The Flesh was responsible. The novella told a dark and grotesquely prescient story about a potential future for humanity. When Nineteen Claws and a Blackbird was released, it was an instant purchase. I hoped for an equally macabre book from Bazterrica, but I closed the final page with a sigh of disappointment.
Nineteen Claws and a Blackbird collects 20 short stories—some could be classified as micro-stories—by Bazterrica, translated by Sarah Moses. They are dark and difficult stories. Some play heavy-handed with their messages, while others attempt to bring about twisty mindfucks like Black Mirror’s best episodes. Bazterrica never lets a story overstay its welcome, and that’s about the only thing I appreciated in Nineteen Claws and a Blackbird.
In Tender Is The Flesh, Bazterrica blended small character moments with big implications. In my opinion, that’s what a good novella or short story should do. Quickfire stories need sharp focus and a steady hand. Nineteen Claws and a Blackbird feels shaky at best. These stories feel macabre just to be macabre, leaving me wholly unconvinced that any of them were worthwhile. The worst of them read like an edge lord wrote them. The best of them read like stories from a college creative writing course that sure have wonderful prose but are otherwise impossible to understand.
I wondered, as often as every few pages, whether I was too dumb to parse what was going on in these short fictions. Maybe I am. I’m more inclined to believe these are unfinished or even unpolished tales, fragments of ideas that should have either a) been expanded into heftier, character-focused narratives or b) flitted to the cutting room floor. There’s a reason “kill your darlings” is a phrase.
I also wondered, even in this ~150-page book, whether I should DNF. I rarely do such a thing, and I couldn’t bring myself to it. I know that these stories will soon be relegated to the annals of my memory, where vague plot points and nameless or one-note characters fade into the ether. Finishing it felt like a slog, even at its low page count.
Don’t get me wrong, though—I am still firmly in the Bazterrica camp, and I believe some readers will enjoy this obtuse, abstract, and grotesque anthology. It wasn’t for me, but her previous book was a knockout. I’ll await Bazterrica’s future work with bated breath and hope it’s more like Tnder Is The Flesh than it is Ninteen Claws.
Rating: Nineteen Claws and a Blackbird: 3.0/10
-Cole
