A Deep Dive into the Dark: Honoring We Could Be Rats
When I first stumbled upon We Could Be Rats by Emily Austin, I was a mix of intrigue and apprehension. Having followed Austin’s previous work, I was captivated by her unique voice and the way she navigated the complexities of life. However, given the sensitive themes surrounding mental health and trauma that this latest novel explores, I was uncertain about what lay ahead. As readers, we must hold space for stories that confront distressing realities, and Austin certainly does not shy away from that.
At its core, We Could Be Rats tells the turbulent story of two sisters, Sigrid and Margit, who grapple with the haunting shadows of their toxic familial relationships. The book opens with Sigrid contemplating her own end, as she struggles to write what may be her final note. This sets the stage for a poignant exploration of self-harm, grief, and familial toxicity. Throughout the narrative, we witness the duality of the sisters’ lives—while they share similar beginnings, their experiences fracture and diverge in both funny and heartbreaking ways.
Austin’s distinctive style stands out, drawing readers into a whirlwind of dark humor juxtaposed with raw honesty. The narrative wades through Sigrid’s attempts to mask pain with humor, a coping mechanism that many will resonate with. The flow of the story can feel turbulent, mirroring the chaotic mental states of the characters. Yet, this disjointed pacing feels intentional, conveying the difficulty of navigating one’s own trauma.
One of the most striking aspects of Austin’s writing is her ability to balance the heavy with the humorous. Lines that should evoke tears instead invite wistful chuckles, grounding readers in the sisters’ context. Take, for instance, Sigrid’s retorts as she tries to interact with the world around her; her quirkiness becomes almost relatable amidst a sea of grief. It’s a delicate dance, one that Austin executes with grace—even if it feels “black and white” in moments of clarity amidst the clashing colors of distress.
However, for all its merits, this book won’t be for everyone. Themes of parental abuse, rape, and substance use are interlaced throughout, making it a potentially overwhelming read for those sensitive to such subjects. I would encourage potential readers to be mindful of this before diving in, as some portions may hit too close to home. Yet, for those who can navigate these deeper waters, the novel presents an essential commentary on resilience and survival.
As I turned the final pages of We Could Be Rats, I felt an array of emotions—sadness, compassion, and even a sense of empowerment in recognizing the complexities of the sisters’ journey and the shared weight of their pain. Austin’s work may not sparkle brightly in the literary canon, but its authenticity and emotional depth create ripples that resonate long after the last word is read.
Ultimately, this novel may find its niche among readers familiar with dark themes and those seeking understanding in the interplay between humor and sorrow. If you appreciate stories that challenge the facade of a perfect family and delve into the messiness of real life—complete with laughter, grief, and everything in between—then We Could Be Rats may just find a special place on your bookshelf.
Thank you to Edelweiss+, Atria Books, and Emily Austin for the opportunity to engage with this powerful narrative. Happy reading!