I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself by Marisa Crane

Initially, I struggled with this book’s lack of a plot, but once I decided to read a few sections at a time, I appreciated it a lot more. It’s deceptively simple yet packs a big punch.

The writing style is both accessible and insightful. There are no distinct chapters, but there are frequent breaks in the text.Įven though this novel deals with darker themes, like loss, grief, and shame, it also balances the story with humour and joy. The narrative voice is slightly unusual, in the second person, with Kris speaking directly to Beau. It follows this family and their close friends as the kid grows up and starts questioning the injustices of this world. There’s not much of a plot in this novel it’s more character-driven. Kris’s wife Beau died in childbirth, leaving Kris to grapple with the grief of losing her while finding joy in raising their daughter. Kris and her newborn daughter, whom she calls the kid, both have a second shadow. It’s a very right-wing leaning government that offers scant civil rights to offenders, or as they’re known in this world: shadesters. Instead of incarcerating people, the government dispenses extra shadows for each infraction of the law. Set in the near future, the government has found a new way to deal with crime. I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself by Marisa Crane (they/she) is an incisive portrayal of one family trying to survive the clutches of a government that resembles Big Brother. With a first-person register reminiscent of the fierce self-disclosure of Sheila Heti and the poetic precision of Ocean Vuong, I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself is a bold debut novel that examines the long shadow of grief, the hard work of parenting, and the power of queer resistance. Yet as the kid grows, Kris finds her footing, raising a child whose irrepressible spark cannot be dampened by the harsh realities of the world. Grieving the loss of her wife and thoroughly unprepared for the reality of raising a child alone, Kris teeters on the edge of collapse, fumbling in a daze of alcohol, shame, and self-loathing.

Kris is a Shadester and a new mother to a baby born with a second shadow of her own. Within the Department, corruption and prejudice run rampant, giving rise to an underclass of so-called Shadesters who are disenfranchised, publicly shamed, and deprived of civil rights protections. In a United States not so unlike our own, the Department of Balance has adopted a radical new form of law enforcement: rather than incarceration, wrongdoers are given a second (and sometimes, third, fourth, and fifth) shadow as a reminder of their crime-and a warning to those they encounter.