Inhabiting Character in Monarch

Thea Swanson

May 17

Emily Jon Tobias's debut short story collection, Monarch, hits the shelves on May 17th—full force. It isn't just the subject matter that propels these stories—alcohol and drug abuse, sexual assault, mania—it's Tobias's crisp, forward-moving sentences that materialize from a deep inhabitation of character.

For example, in "Nova," we can see, smell, and feel the character Jones: Looked up, and there she was—big and noble—out of nowhere, like my mama's old ceramic Madonna. Jones…I caught a musky whiff of Jones off the afternoon Venice wind…She occupied every inch of her very own matte black 1974 Chevy Nova, as she rode alongside a shotgunned no-namer…I felt yanked.

The reader feels yanked, too. Jones then forces the no-namer to exit her car, pressing an eagle talon to his neck. We read these dramatic actions, and they make perfect sense. Of course Jones would do this—we expect nothing less, yet we only met her a few paragraphs ago. Already, we know Jones. Her first words to Bettie, the teen main character, are: "What a fucking dog he was, she said. You, she said, like I was something worth noticing. Get in." In this line, we know, too, what Bettie thinks of herself in relation to Jones.

Tobias burrows into the sinew of each character she presents. By the end of the second paragraph of "Lucky Penny," I feel like I know what motivates Penny and Cleave:

Cleave works the graveyard shift at the Citgo station…She senses that the man may really love her, too. She sees it in his habits, how he secures things. Like when he double knots his boots for each shift in December as if lacing up for combat… The man does not waver.

Tobias has crawled under the skins of Penny and Cleave, and through their small actions, we understand them. Penny watches in wonder as Cleave secures things, as he laces his boots, as he does not waver. The story has just begun, yet I feel tenderness toward Cleave and empathy for Penny. It is a rich yet mundane introduction, situating us gently for the mania that unwinds once Cleave leaves for work, as Penny drinks wine and doesn't take her medication:

LIGHTS ON. Kitchen. Penny's manic, exalted, in worship, on her knees, to really get in there—GET IN THERE, GIRL! she yells in reverence of a high like this. Start gun. Like a racehorse—whipped—she's off and rushing. Toothbrush to baseboards. Faster. Go. LIGHTS OFF.

The reader comes to understand Penny's awe over Cleave's dependability during the unraveling of her manic night, braided with flashbacks, as we learn of her past abuses, the reasons for her lack of trust. Tobias's stories are often built on flashbacks, which add to the abundance of movement in these stories. Women escape in Monarch—or try to. Often, they have escaped their mothers but then pine for them or feel their inescapable presence. Four stories illustrate this theme. In the title story, "Monarch," Georgia never succeeds, emotionally, in escaping her mother's cruel attempts to keep her daughter thin. And the old wound grows when Georgia's baby daughter floats away from her in the ocean, forever. At that point, thin Georgia makes a change:

Well into the Gaining came the understanding that her grief needed an entire sea, not some little puddle. No, Georgia's heart needed space to shatter…The other effects of mourning are ingested—each Coca-Cola, a river runoff; every Kiss, a sprinkle of sand; each Twinkie, a life raft keeping her afloat.

Often in the collection, women and teen girls try to escape unhappiness or familial abuse with alcohol or drugs. Five stories explore this theme, and the characters drive this topic to the forefront of Monarch, whether they nod off on heroin on the downtown streets of Seattle or experience "gut rot from booze on an empty stomach" having left East L.A. In toto, the reader senses this collection is a road trip the characters can't help but traverse, that strung-out motion is better than unhappy stagnation, and that peace is not a destination on the map. Yet they are holding on, wishing for kind words from their mothers.

Tobias's range of character and voice is evident in the stories "Vida" and "What My Momma Knows Is True." In "Vida," the main character is a bilingual foster teen girl named Wiley, who tells us her story by telling us about Vida, her foster sister. In this storytelling approach, "Vida" is similar to "Nova"; the main characters in both stories, both foster teen girls, are enchanted by one particular female that comes into their lives, and each main character begins their tale as such. The first line from "Nova": "First time I laid eyes on Jones, I didn't know how I would be tortured, gently, how I would come to rest just beneath her skin." And the first line of "Vida": "To tell you about Vida, I have to go back to when I'm fifteen and all I want is a good fight." Wiley's voice is strong and fast, making this story an absorbing read:

Abuela doesn't want me at first, I can tell. Hardly says much between her missing front teeth. But then she starts to cook for me. Pozole and pastor. Chiles roasted right on the burner of the gas stove. Comida in big pots and pans like she's feeding an army, but it's only us two.

In "What My Momma Knows Is True," seven-year-old Ebbie's voice is also strong and fast, Tobias's skill on full display in taking on such a young character: I sit down where I am safe. On the plaid couch that eats my bottom…I look at my momma cause she is sitting in front of me, waiting. She is waiting to talk to me. Most probably to talk to me about something she knows. I can feel this is serious because what Momma says comes true and we both know this.

Notable in this piece is the lack of sentimentality, despite the fact that the story is about the death of Ebbie's beloved grandmother. There is an ominous quality in this tale, in the voice, in the unknown, in the spare dialogue, in the repeated message that the child's mother is all-knowing, so that I am somewhat worried for this girl. Tobias successfully presents the spongy landscape of a young girl's mind, showing us how strange and scary the world can be. With so much estrangement between the mothers and daughters in Monarch, Ebbie's innocent and clear voice reminds us that sometimes, a mother can be a safe place for a daughter to land.