So, one of the oddest experiences I’ve had recently involves reading this book. Given that almost the entire action of the story revolves around a woman cooking, and eating, her husband it is a very strange thing to read, in bed, next to your own beloved. Especially if you are feeling a bit peckish.
The book is, as you may be able to imagine, a curious mixture of the macabre and the purely practical. We all, lets face it, get a little miffed with our nearest and dearest at some point and it is surely healthy to imagine how we would do away with them (okay, maybe that’s not so normal) but planning to eat them – nose to tail – is a touch bizarre. To say the least. Although, if you did ever decide to take this (highly illegal) step this book will at least give you some recipe ideas….
We only ever hear one side of the relationship between Lizzie Prain and her husband but I felt that even if her view was only partly true then he was a rather unpleasant man. You do feel a certain amount of sympathy for Lizzie – he seems to have spent his time giving her nothing but negative comments – and providing the bulk of her calories for a few weeks seems to be the most sustaining thing he ever did for her. The story alternates between Lizzie’s voice and that of a young man she befriends and it is this relationship which, in the end, seems to bring her back from the rather odd state that eating an entire person brings about.
Lizzie kills her husband (by accident, but she caused his death), eats him and, along the way, learns how to live again. Sadly, after she has polished off the last of his body, she seems to run out of steam and her last actions suggest that she will hand herself in to the authorities. Mind you, who wouldn’t feel a bit sluggish after such a big meal….