We Love You, Bunny by Mona Awad
Big thanks to Simon and Shuster and NetGalley for sending me
an advanced copy of Mona Awad’s We Love You, Bunny. I haven’t read Bunny,
Awad’s first book in this series that was wildly popular. I have previously
read Rogue by Awad, which I absolutely loved. It was an atmospheric and mysterious
book that dealt with grief and identity in creative and compelling ways. We
Love You Bunny is described as both a prequel and a sequel, so reading Bunny
first isn’t required, and I’m actually not sure how much it might enhance the
reading of this book. I found We Love You, Bunny to be an enjoyable and
entertaining book on one level, but it was also like a novel of ideas that uses
symbolism, allusion, and satire in many ways to question the nature of writing,
creativity, and even celebrity and success. I also felt like Rogue, this
book also examines questions of identity, image, and violence, but in a much
more explicit way. Nevertheless, Awad’s book is a great read that left me thinking
and questioning about many of these themes and ideas, while also reminding me
of many of the literary reference points throughout the book. It’s definitely
not a book for everyone, but I think that English majors, fans of literature,
those who work in higher education, and fans of horror will find much to enjoy with
this book.
We Love You, Bunny tells the story of the hive mind
of Bunnies, several women who are in an MFA program and have abducted one of
their peers who published a book that seemed to satirize their program. Awad’s
ability to create and convey the differences between these individuals who seemingly
share a mind creates an interesting dynamic. I really appreciated her ability
to create these nuanced differences and learn more about these characters, how
they both conform to the Bunny hive mind, and how they deviate from it, seeking
to differentiate themselves and find their voices, or as their writing teacher
Ursula might say, tap their wounds to bleed out a story. Although I was never
an MFA student, I could appreciate how these kinds of group dynamics unfold in
a graduate program, especially one where the goal is to produce a master work.
Another strong point of Awad’s book was her lampooning of the various styles
and modalities as well as the different factions that arise in these programs. The
differences between the Fictions and the Poets was humorous, although I
wondered why the Poets were all men, and most of the Fictions were female. My
favorite genre was Viktoria’s “Proems,” which were etched in glass. I only wish
there were some sample Proems to read, but I suppose the medium is also
integral to the meaning. Regardless, Awad’s characterization and how the fine
line between admiration and jealousy arises during these intense moments of
study is well done. I was reminded of Erikson’s ideas about identity and groups
in adolescence, and how we often seek out groups and conform to these groups
and lash out at differences to those who are different for a sense of security
during these kinds of transitions. The Bunnies seem to find security in their
group, and struggle with accepting those who are different. Furthermore, they
see threats in patriarchal figures like Allan, their teacher whose critiques
are too much for the Bunnies to bear. As a result of these critiques, the Bunnies
develop their ultimate creation- Aerius, a man they’ve seemingly conjured and they
can shape to fulfill their needs.
Aerius is another bright spot in this novel, whose resemblance
to the actor “Jacob Chamalord” presents some opportunities for others to
recognize him on campus. I found Aerius’s encounter with a visual arts student
to be one of the funniest parts of the book, as his cubist style represents Aerius
like a violin throughout the book. Much of the book is told between Aerius’s and
the Bunnies’ perspectives, allowing us to view the creation, subjugation, and
education of Aerius from different perspectives. Aerius’s narration is also
incredible. I loved his fresh view of the world, his unique language and
descriptions of the Bunnies (Murder Fairy, Goldy Cut), and his encounters with
others like the Poets. I’m still making sense of the book’s different themes
related to creation, destruction, and violence, and it’s one of those books
that would be ideal for a dedicated book club or a course where there are
opportunities to revisit passages, events, and descriptions to further analyze
their meaning. There are references to Poe and Shelley’s Frankenstein
throughout the book, but there are also references to other iterations of the
monster including the more popular Universal-Karloff monster and The Bride
of Frankenstein. I could kind of see this as having to do with losing track
of a creation, kind of like what happens with the Bunnies. I also wondered if
there was some kind of meta-commentary on sequels and intellectual property, almost
like this book is a sequel/prequel. It seemed like the Bunnies wanted badly to
create something as great as Sam’s work, yet their own creation gets out of
hand. It is both their own, but not their own, and they grapple with the new
life it takes on, seemingly unable to accept its own actions and trajectory. I
wondered whether Awad was commenting on how some writers might be driver to
create products or something to generate continued acclaim rather than focusing
more on authentic creation. As the Bunnies resort to magic for their creation,
it seems like they are unable or unwilling to tap their own wounds, and maybe
because of their privilege, they misconstrue this kind of message. The Poets
were also funny as well, and Aerius’s interactions with their mentor were some
of the funniest in the book. I also kept thinking about Ralph Ellison’s book Invisible
Man, which also has to do with identity, and is itself a kind of novel of
ideas that takes place in academia, although in the 1930s. As the narrator
continues to encounter characters and situations that further shape his
identity and social learning, we see how he gradually becomes exhausted with ideas
of equality and academics, learning more from those outside of the school than
within. Aerius also seems to learn more once he is free from his captors, but
it seems like those within academia never really learn anything or are able to
teach others. I wondered if there was some commentary here as well about the
limitations of higher education, especially around creative areas like writing,
poetry, and art. Maybe the references to American Psycho say something
more about the desire for commercial or material success, as the future
iterations of Aerius end up looking more like Patrick Bateman or some students
from finance. There’s a lot to question and explore in this novel. I always
enjoy reading those kinds of challenging novels that make me think and
question, but I know that not everyone likes them. Nevertheless, Awad has
written a unique novel that both challenges and entertains, that elicits laughter
and gasps at some of the shocking violence and horror. It’s a great novel, but
maybe not for everyone. It made me appreciate Awad’s writing much more since We
Love You, Bunny is a much different novel from Rogue. However, this
novel has also made me want to read Bunny even more to spend some more
time at Warren among the Bunnies and learn more about Sam. Highly recommended!
No comments:
Post a Comment