I HOLD A WOLF BY THE EARS

Identity, like reality, is a slippery thing for the women in van den Berg’s latest collection of short stories, all of whom are grasping at a sense of stability that seems forever out of reach.

All 11 stories here are sharp as they are haunting; in this world—maybe like the real one—nothing is exactly what it seems. In “Cult of Mary,” which is as short as it is devastating, a daughter takes her aging mother on a quietly gut-wrenching group tour of Italy. Against the backdrop of an earthquake-ravaged Mexico City, “Karolina” a divorcing art restorer, runs into her brother’s now-destitute ex-wife and is forced to confront truths about her brother she has managed until now to willfully ignore. In “Lizards,” a husband plies his unhappy wife with cans of special sparkling water, off-brand LaCroix but with sedative properties, for when she “simply becomes too much.” And doesn’t she also, in a way, appreciate the dulling of her own mind? “The truth is that she is angriest at her own anger,” van den Berg explains, “which she suspects has arrived far too late to be of any real use.” Other stories have a darkly surreal edge, like sweaty, hyper-realistic nightmares; someone has always disappeared or is in the process of disappearing: A husband vanishes into a tree; a woman is casually kidnapped by her new friend. In the title story, a woman named Margot semiaccidentally begins impersonating her missing sister at an Italian academic conference. They are raw and searching, the women at the centers of these stories. She didn’t want her sister’s life, Margot thinks. “All she wants is to feel like she isn’t being destroyed by the world.” The stories here, vibrating with loss, but wickedly funny, are a distinctly van den Berg–ian hybrid, as biting as they are dreamy.

Witty, painful, and thoroughly unsettling.