"In the Dream House" by Carmen Maria Machado is a groundbreaking memoir that transcends traditional storytelling to offer a deeply personal and innovative exploration of a relationship marred by psychological abuse.

Machado's narrative is a bold and multi-faceted dissection of her harrowing experience with a volatile partner. The memoir is unique in its approach, with each chapter reframing the relationship through different conceptual lenses. This creative structure allows Machado to examine the events from various perspectives, incorporating elements from legal discourse, folklore, pop culture, and literature. Such an approach not only enriches the narrative but also challenges the reader to confront the complexities and nuances of psychological abuse.

Due to a sudden, unexpected passing in the family a few years ago and another more recently and my subsequent (mental) health issues stemming from that, I was unable to download this book in time to review it before it was archived as I did not visit this site for several years after the bereavements. This meant I didn't read or venture onto netgalley for years as not only did it remind me of that person as they shared my passion for reading, but I also struggled to maintain interest in anything due to overwhelming depression. I was therefore unable to download this title in time and so I couldn't give a review as it wasn't successfully acquired before it was archived. The second issue that has happened with some of my other books is that I had them downloaded to one particular device and said device is now defunct, so I have no access to those books anymore, sadly.

This means I can't leave an accurate reflection of my feelings towards the book as I am unable to read it now and so I am leaving a message of explanation instead. I am now back to reading and reviewing full time as once considerable time had passed I have found that books have been helping me significantly in terms of my mindset and mental health - this was after having no interest in anything for quite a number of years after the passings. Anything requested and approved will be read and a review written and posted to Amazon (where I am a Hall of Famer & Top Reviewer), Goodreads (where I have several thousand friends and the same amount who follow my reviews) and Waterstones (or Barnes & Noble if the publisher is American based). Thank you for the opportunity and apologies for the inconvenience.

Whoa. This is an intense, occasionally terrifying, gripping, raw, and candid memoir about Machado’s abusive relationship with an unnamed, emotionally unstable woman while in grad school. She takes us through the beginning of their relationship and gradually ratchets up the tension. I found myself utterly fearful for Machado’s safety at several points. We have the perception that domestic violence doesn’t exist in same-sex relationships; through her own experience and literary references, Machado shows that it absolutely does and that’s what makes this an important book. 5 out of 5 stars.

I loved this book and it took me a long time to review it but only because I had so much to think about. I sent the book to friends who I thought might find that it validated their experiences. Beautifully written, although the netgalley proof I received was riddled with formatting errors that sometimes made it difficult to read. I'm sure these were ironed out before publication.

An important, raw, experimental read, Carmen Maria Machado's In The Dream House allows her to lay her claim at the forefront of literary future.

Rating memoirs always feels a bit weird to me. I know that's not really what I'm doing - I'm rating the way the author decided to tell their story. But still, I have the same problem every time I finish a memoir. Carmen's "In the Dream House" was no exception. Carmen's story was one that needed to be told - so often when people think of abusive relationships, I think a man/woman relationship is what comes to mind. So to me, I thought it was a very important and crucial narrative to remind readers that abusive relationships can happen to anyone.

That being said, I felt a bit of a disconnect throughout the book. The use of second person narrative is unique, and in some ways it works. I gathered that the author may have intended to put the reader in the situations so they could get a feel for what it might be like, but all it seemed to accomplish for me was to take the emotion out of the story. Maybe Carmen wasn't ready to write about her experiences in the first person or maybe Carmen really did think the stories would be more impactful if the readers thought they were happening to themselves.

Ultimately, it ended up being a good story but with not enough emotion. I'm still glad to have read it and will recommend it to others and commend Carmen for writing about a topic that I don't think gets talked about enough.

A memoir like nothing I’ve ever read - beautiful, terrifying and topical. Carmen Maria Machado’s work details her abusive queer relationship along with all its implications.

One of the best things I’ve read in a while! With thanks to NetGalley and the publisher.

This was an incredibly moving and harrowing work by Machado who's honesty about this terrible situation is to be applauded. It's not really appropriate to say that it's very well written as that's not the point. But it is as well written as it is heartbreaking.

A stunningly heartbreaking memoir of same-sex relationship abuse. Uncomfortable, raw, tragic and soul-achingly refreshing. I don't often give 5 stars to books but this author deserves every praise. Carmen Maria Machado is a shining light. The imagery is so vivid and the writing is like nothing I have ever read. If I could give this book 10 stars, I certainly would.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for the advanced reader digital copy. I will be buying this book to keep forever.

Every once in a while, a book comes along which completely rewires one's understanding regarding the very possibilities of literature. This is that book. Structurally, it is unlike anything I have ever read in my life. It should seriously be read for the highly experimental form alone. On top of that, Machado brings an emotional intensity that hearkens back to the best books I have read of this genre. All the stars in the universe are not enough to appropriately rate it.

This book broke my heart. It's something I've never read before (but which we absolutely should): domestic abuse within a queer relationship.

In this memoir, Carmen Maria Machado beautiful shares her story of abuse, weaving in analysis of movies and songs, poems, her own childhood, and queer history. So stunningly structured. And much more accessible than Her Body and Other Parties, which was great, but this memoir knocks that book out of the park.

I've really never read anything like this memoir before, from the stunning writing to the incredibly vivid imagery. The book is honest and raw and so damn uncomfortable. But you have to read it, in order to honour the bravery that Machado and every single queer person who experiences same-gender abuse.

I recommend this book to everyone, but do be careful with the content if you can handle it.

I’m stingy with 5-star ratings because, for me, giving a book top marks means a) it’s a masterpiece, b) it’s a game/mind/life changer, and/or c) it expands the possibilities of its particular genre. It doesn’t just designate a book that I enjoyed a lot or had no specific gripes with – that could be 3.5 or 4 stars. In the Dream House fits all three criteria. (Somewhat to my surprise, given that I couldn’t get through more than half of Machado’s acclaimed story collection, Her Body and Other Parties, and only enjoyed it in parts.)

Much has been written about this memoir of an abusive same-sex relationship since its U.S. release in November. I feel I have little to add to the conversation beyond my deepest admiration for how it prioritizes voice, theme and scenes; gleefully does away with the chronology and (not directly relevant) backstory – in other words, the boring bits – that most writers would so slavishly detail; and engages with history, critical theory and the tropes of folk tales to constantly interrogate her experiences and perceptions.

Most of the book is in the second person, looking back at the self that was caught in this situation (“If, one day, a milky portal had opened up in your bedroom and an older version of yourself had stepped out and told you what you know now, would you have listened?”), as well as – what the second person does best – putting the reader right into the narrative.

The “Dream House” is the Victorian house where Machado lived with her ex-girlfriend in Bloomington, Indiana for two years while she started an MFA course. It was a paradise until it wasn’t; it was a perfect relationship until it wasn’t. No one, least of all her, would have believed the perky little blonde writer she fell for would turn sadistic. A lot of it was emotional manipulation and verbal and psychological abuse, but there was definitely a physical element as well. Fear and self-doubt kept her trapped in a fairy tale that had long since turned into a nightmare. Writing it all out seven years later, the trauma was still there. Yet there was no tangible evidence (a police report, a restraining order, photos of bruises) to site her abuse anywhere outside of her memory. How fleeting, yet indelible it had all been.

The book is in relatively short sections headed “Dream House as _________” (fill in the blank with everything from “Time Travel” to “Confession”), and the way that she pecks at her memories from different angles is perfect for recreating the spiral of confusion and despair. She also examines the history of our understanding of queer domestic violence: lesbian domestic violence, specifically, wasn’t known about until 30-some years ago. The story has a happy ending in that Machado is now happily married. The bizarre twist, though, is that her wife, YA author Val Howlett, was the girlfriend of the woman in the Dream House when they first met. To start with, it was an “open relationship” (or at least the blonde told her so) that Machado reluctantly got in the middle of, before Val drifted away. That the two of them managed to reconnect, and got past their mutual ex, is truly astonishing.

A couple of favorite passages:

“Clarity is an intoxicating drug, and you spent almost two years without it, believing you were losing your mind”

“That there’s a real ending to anything is, I’m pretty sure, the lie of all autobiographical writing. You have to choose to stop somewhere. You have to let the reader go.”

This memoir was unlike any I've read so far. From the writing style to the content - a woman in a w|w relationship who is emotionally and mentally abused by her girlfriend.
I've never read abuse stories from this perspective and as a result I found this memoir to be interesting as well as sad.

The author had footnotes placed throughout her writing where she explained certian cases and stories about evidence of women being violent towards other women in relationships and I found that informative and I was also astounded. Because, honestly, I never heard too much about abuse in this context. Usually domestic violence involves a woman being abused a man.

This was a new take on domestic abuse, and I believe the author was very brave in putting her experience on paper and her honest thought processes as well. Definently a book I would recommend to my peers.



*thanks to Netgalley and Greywolf Press for this arc in exchange for an honest review*

In The Dream House is author Carmen Maria Machado’s non-fiction book about her experience in an abusive queer relationship. There were MANY beautiful things in this book and the author does a great job of giving you a “slice of life” look at a period in her life. At times, I didn’t feel like enough details were given to really flesh out “the woman in the dream house” for readers.. Your enjoyment in this book may come down to already knowing the author’s style from her previous fiction work “her body & other parties” And a part of me is almost sad this woman “in the dream house” took up so much space in this author’s head. In my opinion is was pretty easy to connect things written in this memoir to things included her fiction collection “Her Body & Other Parties”

This book is every bit as good as I'd heard. Such skill is exhibited here with writing that is enjoyable to read even though it details such harrowing lived experience.

I liked the inclusion of pop culture analysis and the eye-opening information about how people have struggled to even accept that abuse can occur in a lesbian relationship. This seems obvious to me that abuse can occur in every kind of relationship, but then again, the lengths to which some people will go to ignore injustice shouldn't be surprising.

Thank you to the publisher and netgalley for a free copy in exchange for an honest review.

I enjoyed the predominant story featured int the book - the author's abusive same-sex relationship. The jumping times line really lent its self well to the writing style. I also really respected the purpose of the work - to raise the awreness of same-sex abuse in relationships.
However, I have come to the realisation that I just don't gel very well with the author's voice. I enjoyed the main theme of the story however I don't find her writing voice peasant nor do I enjoy the quirky filler material throughout the book.
That being said I really came to like the author and the story did touch me .

In the Dream House is a revelation for the memoir format. Carmen Maria Machado’s masterpiece is a mosaic made up the fragments of her life that revolve around an abusive relationship she had with a former partner. Some are long and some are short. Some are beautifully self-contained narrative episodes that could be (and in some cases, have been) published independently. Some are brief flashes of happiness, fear, anger and love. Some are brutal reality checks for the reader “Most types of domestic abuse are completely legal”. These fragments are addressed directly to the reader, making it impossible to disengage from the haunting narrative because between a chronology that warps and spirals and the changing style the only constant is “you”. The narrative recreates her uncertainty and he partner’s mood-swings, gas-lighting and constant suspicion transform the eponymous Dream House into a nightmare and her (your) reality becomes increasingly unstable.

Throughout, she picks apart the narrative essence of her own experience, linking it to ideas and tropes that have become an essential part of human story-telling, whether through writing, or film. Many of these tackle abusive relationships of one sort or another from fairy tales (extensively footnoting he story using the Motif-Index of Folk Literature) to the film Gaslight from which the modern verb descends. Machado shines a light on abuse between two women, a subject that she readily shows is problematic within the LGBT community as well as society as a whole. She doesn’t flinch away from challenging the often-sterilised or salacious interpretations of one or the other. She brings in historical cases and interrogates the way they were reported, the defences used and the way the women involved were treated and (not) remembered, fighting against the erasure of lesbian and queer women from the narrative of abuse.

It’s a deeply, brutally personal story whose second-person voice makes it yours. Her shifts from personal to academic to lyrical are all part of the fractured landscape of memory and narrative, giving this memoir a depth that I’ve never really experienced before. It’s horrifying and beautiful at the same time and the writing is stupendous.

When I first read Machado's Her Body & Other Parties I was blown away by how free, sharp and insightful her storytelling was. I read it again with my book club at work, where it was mostly well-received as well. And then I spent months, legitimate months, waiting for In the Dream House to fall into my hands. When it finally did, I held off on reading it. I had built up very high expectations of anything that came from Machado's pen and was worried I would be underwhelmed. No such fears were necessary. Thanks to Serpent's Tail and NetGalley for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Memoirs are a difficult thing, because they ask a reader to be intensely interested in the personal life of the author, rather than in their craft per se. It is the reason why most autobiographies or memoirs don't work for me, hence why I waited so long before actually starting In the Dream House. The memoir is non-traditional, that much we all would have expected, but I absolutely loved how Machado broke down her own story and reconstructed it. It is what gives it the power with which it knocks you over. Divided into little sections, each named after a different literary device like 'Dream House as Folk Tale', Machado tells the story of her experience of an abusive relationship with another woman in short bursts that always surprise you. By telling her story in this non-chronological way it shows the reader how difficult it can be to make sense of or understand how a relationship turns violent and abusive. There is no simple answer, but there is true heartbreak when your dream house is no longer safe.

The relationship starts like a dream, Machado young and open for love, 'the woman' (never named) worldy, wild and everything she could have wanted. What starts as a satisfying open relationship becomes a controlling nightmare as Machado has to protect herself against accusations of adultery, physical intimidation, and the crushing weight of not knowing where to go.

In the Dream House is full of references, both to existing literature and to the gaps that exist within it. Machado plainly shows the lack of information on abuse and violence within lesbian or queer relationships and how this played a role in her getting stuck in the relationship. The "dream house" is a construct, both physically since she was trapped in a house with her abuser, and mentally, as the silence around her experience traps her within it. It is this silence into which Machado brings her own story, re-framing it in different ways, trying to make sense of it and finding a frame of reference for it. In the end, Machado does make her escape, supported by friends who grow concerned for her. It is not an easy escape and the difficulty of writing the book shows her that some scars perhaps never quite heal. And yet with In the Dream House she shows that while perfect happy endings may not exist, happy endings are possible.

In In the Dream House Machado shatters what you expect from a memoir. Her writing is haunting, but also enrapturing. Once I started reading I couldn't put it back down, sucked in by how exact and yet ephemeral Machado's story is. Because of how she splits up the story into different categories, it becomes clear how widely abuse affects a life, but also how mythologized it is. As Machado writes herself: 'Most types of domestic abuse are completely legal'. Obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, the tinge of danger that coats everything, it all has a dangerously glamorous sheen to it as it is so recognizable. Something I found fascinating was the frequent references in footnotes to the Motif-Index of Folk-Literature, whether it is omens, rewards, mutilations, the power instilled by knowing someone's true name. It all shows how we have built a literature around love and abuse, in which there is yet a deafening silence into which Machado had to write herself a space.

In the Dream House is a brilliant memoir, the only book you could apply the title of 'one of its kind' to. It's heartbreaking, beautiful, tragic and triumphant. As Machado says at the beginning:
'If you need this book, it is for you.'

I couldn't stop reading it. Was just incredible. Made me reflect on my own personal experiences of control in a relationships. It's hard to not feel moved by this memoir.

I requested this book from Netgalley as I'd heard a lot about Her Body and Other Parties, and I'm drawn more and more lately to literary non fiction. I was not prepared for how clever, disturbing and powerful this book was. It is a memoir of a time in Carmen Maria Machado's life when she fell in love with a woman who seemed to give her everything she needed in a partner, as well as being her first proper girlfriend, but after drawing Carmen in and gaining her trust gradually became increasingly controlling and abusive. The book explores how we see or don't see women as abusers, and how these relationships also exist when men are not involved. I felt her shame, fear and anger so clearly I found it hard to sleep after reading it in bed.


I was hooked from the epigraph which stated that memory is a form of architecture, since I had spent a good portion of my undergraduate and masters degree arguing for meaningful links between memory and trauma in landscapes and, more particularly, houses.

I had taken "dream house" to mean something like the toy "Barbie Dream House", an idealised house and home life that one might dream of when they are young. Reading the epigraph, I wondered if we might read "dream house" as the mind as a haunted house. However, in this context "dream house" is viewed from all sorts of angles, and provides the framework for the narrative about this author's life and the abusive relationship she survived.

At the beginning of the memoir, first person narration becomes second person, also referring to the author, but by doing this she distances herself from the past, traumatised self. It also has the effect if making the reader feel complicit and drawn in to what we know will be a horrible story. This is made explicit, as all her stylistic choices are, which doesn't make them unaffective but instead gives us a map as to how to read this book.

I couldn't stop talking about this book as I was reading it, and found myself constantly reaching for it when I had any time at all to spare. Brave, intelligent and necessary, this could well be one of my best books of 2020, and it is only January.