i finished Parakeet with two main thoughts floating around in my head:

1. holy hell. what a solid ending chapter, and
2. what the fuck did i just read? (complimentary)

just: what a blissfully weird book. and i do love a blissfully weird book.

i picked this one up after reading (and loving) Beautyland, a more recent novel by the same author. Beautyland is also very weird, but in a much different way. and so it makes sense that i loved Parakeet as well, but for different reasons. with Beautyland, it was easy to take the weirdness at face value. but with Parakeet—well, that was harder to do.

because there wasn’t really a moment when i was sure what was real and what was just real for the bride (did she really become her mother? what about the ship after she gets the dress? and how about that diner at the end of the world?). and even now, writing this, i’m unconvinced there’s a difference. if the story was the bride’s story, isn’t her perspective the only thing that’s real? isn’t that part of the conflict between her and her playwright sibling?

even so, this uncertainty about what was real and what wasn’t made it a difficult book to read straight through. i had a hard time getting into a reading flow because there were so many descriptions of events that made me pause, reread, and really think about what was happening and what it might mean on a deeper level (something i didn’t personally mind, but i know wouldn’t be for everyone).

and yet, there were also several moments that felt so incredibly clear, especially towards the end when the bride was finally confronting her feelings. like here, when my heart really hurt for the bride:

“Sometimes I mistake presence for fondness. Even though those who are absent are normally the ones I love most. Perhaps because so many in my life have said, 'I'm here, aren't I?' when I've asked to feel their love.”

or in the final chapter, when she discusses what marriage even is, and comes to the conclusion she’s actually been married loads of times:

“I meant, how does one join oneself to another? Thinking of it now, there are many ways … There are intimacies that don’t involve marriage just as there are marriages that don’t involve intimacy. The mind provides the only possible privacy so what is more intimate than thought? If intimacy is marriage, I’m married to anyone I’ve carried in my mind.”

do i think this book is for everyone? no. but if you’re the kind of reader who loves reading weird stories about women waking up and confronting their lives after somehow sleep-walking themselves into dissatisfaction (be it because of mental health reasons or societal expectations, or whatever), then i 100% recommend Parakeet.