Near Flesh, by Katherine Dunn

An uneven collection of disturbing stories for established Dunnophiles

My very first book review on The Everyday Frame was for Toad, Katherine Dunn’s previously unpublished novel written before her masterpiece, Geek Love. Like most readers, I was blown away by Geek Love, and I was also deeply impressed by Toad, giving it five stars without hesitation.

Sadly, I won’t be handing out similar praise for Near Flesh, a posthumous collection of nineteen short stories discovered among Dunn’s papers. The vivid and psychologically perceptive writing is unmistakably hers, but as a collection, it’s pretty uneven. A handful of stories linger in the mind. Many others disappear almost as quickly as they arrive.

Dunn’s fictional world is a bleak one. Her stories are populated largely by struggling, isolated women navigating poverty, loneliness, or deeply uncomfortable personal circumstances. The men who drift through these stories are usually absent, indifferent, ugly, creepy, or worse. It’s a grim emotional landscape, but that’s what we’ve come to expect from her work; it’s always been the thing that draws me in, frankly. Dunn has always excelled at illuminating the strange corners of human behavior.

The problem here is less the darkness than the brevity. Many of the stories are extremely short—sometimes only a few pages—and Dunn doesn’t always have enough room to create the vivid, unforgettable characters she’s capable of when the page number isn’t limited. Some writers can build an entire emotional universe in just a handful of pages. Dunn occasionally does this, but too often the stories end before they’ve had time to leave much of an impression.

The longer pieces, not surprisingly, are the strongest. The title story, “Near Flesh,” is easily one of the standouts. It follows Thelma Vole, a corporate manager who owns four sex robots—an absurd premise that Dunn transforms into a bleakly funny satire about loneliness, desire, and technological intimacy. Written decades ago, the story now reads as a strangely prescient commentary on our emerging relationship with artificial companionship.

Another highlight is “The Novitiate,” a grim and unsettling portrait of a woman abandoned by her husband and left to raise a toddler in a bleak, unsafe apartment. Dunn’s trademark mixture of dark humor and emotional brutality is fully on display here. It’s a short piece, but it left me so sad. A real testament to her power with the written word. My personal favorite, though, was “The Resident Poet,” a biting and deeply uncomfortable story about a student’s fraught relationship with an older teacher. Dunn’s ability to capture manipulation, self-delusion, and emotional vulnerability shines brilliantly in that one. The poet, a man repugnant both physically and mentally, is a character that will stay with me for a while (unfortunately).

For every story that hits its mark, however, there’s another that feels slight or underdeveloped. Pieces like “The Flautist,” about a taxi driver who serenades his passengers with flute music, left me wondering what exactly I was supposed to take away from them. Other stories are so brief that they barely register before they’re over.

Dunn’s talent is undeniable—her prose is sharp, her psychological insight impressive, and her ability to depict life’s more uncomfortable realities remains intact. But as a whole, the collection feels scattered. Several stories are excellent. Others feel more like fragments than finished works. It’s all just… uneven.

None of this diminishes Dunn’s reputation. Geek Love remains one of the most extraordinary novels of the last half-century, and nothing here quite approaches its brilliance.

Near Flesh isn’t a total wash. There are moments of real power scattered throughout its pages. But for most readers, this collection will probably feel less like a major literary event and more like a curiosity, something for devoted Dunn fans rather than the best place to discover her work.

If you’re new to Katherine Dunn, start with Geek Love. If you’re already a Dunnophile, Near Flesh offers an interesting, if uneven, glimpse into the darker corners of her imagination.