How an L.A. writer distilled American hope and despair into summer's big literary debut
Seven years ago, when Tess Gunty began to write her debut novel, "The Rabbit Hutch," she was 23, living in New York and experiencing a constant barrage of catcalls when she walked down the street.
She felt, she says, "like a deer living in hunting grounds." As if her flesh didn't belong to her. To cope, she would dissociate. "I started to feel this sort of alienation from my body," says Gunty, now 29. "I started to feel like I had to leave my body in order to get to my next destination."
"The Rabbit Hutch," opens with the protagonist literally exiting her body. Blandine Watkins, a brilliant and striking 18-year-old fresh out of the foster care system, lies bleeding on the floor of her apartment. "[S]he has spent most of her life wishing for this to happen," the narrator clarifies. "The agony is sweet."
It's a powerful and brutal opening to a powerful and brutal book, brimming with dark and funny lines as it ranges, like Blandine's purgatorial spirit, over the fictional town of Vacca Vale, Ind., along with a bizarre cast
You’re reading a preview, subscribe to read more.
Start your free 30 days