Her Body and Other Parties

“Something is lost between us, and I never find it again.”

This scene marks a turning point in the relationship between the protagonist and the son, but also in the way in which the son learns social norms. Up until this point, the son wants nothing more from his mother than love. However, after seeing his father attempt to exert control over his mother for something that the husband desires, the son learns that he can dominate his mother in the same way. This shift in power dynamics irreversibly changes their bond.

“It is like him to not understand what there is to be afraid of in this world, but I am still furious.”

The protagonist’s husband’s negligence over their son’s safety, and the protagonist’s contrasting concern over it, shows the vastly different experiences of security that men and women feel even in day-to-day life, touching on the story’s theme of male entitlement.

“He is not a bad man, and that, I realize suddenly, is the root of my hurt. He is not a bad man at all. To describe him as evil or wicked or corrupted would do a deep disservice to him. And yet— […]”

Machado highlights the normalcy of male domination and entitlement. Both men and women are socially programmed into normative gender roles that eventually end up harming women.

“I feel as lonely as I have ever been.”

The protagonist expresses her feelings of betrayal over her husband’s insistence on acting on a desire that eventually harms her. The protagonist’s willingness to fulfill her husband’s whimsical wants highlights the themes of male entitlement and male dominance that run through the story.

“‘But the fucking thing is only passing through physical contact,’ she said. ‘If people would just stay apart—’ She grew silent.”

Through the hypocrisy of one of the protagonist’s lovers, Machado highlights the futility of human isolation. Even when it is life-threatening to do so, people seek each other out.

“I drink water and set up my tent and begin to make lists. Every teacher beginning with preschool. Every job I’ve ever had. Every home I’ve ever lived in. Every person I’ve loved. Every person who probably loved me.” 

List-making serves as the protagonist’s coping mechanism. It grounds her in the past so that she may not forget it in the future. It reminds her that she is still human, and that she had a life before the virus.

“I keep thinking I can see the virus blooming on the horizon like a sunrise.” 

The paranoia of survival follows the protagonist. The reader gets a sense that if she doesn’t eventually contract the virus, the fear of the virus alone will eat away at her. 

“But then Bad is gone, and for once, I am not alone, after.” 

Machado subtly implies the cyclical nature of Bad and the protagonist’s dysfunctional relationship.

“In the distance, gray humps rolled out of the sea. I imagined sharks, and the mincemeat of our bodies. ‘Dolphins,’ she breathed, and made it so.” 

Machado characterizes the power that Bad has over the protagonist and Bad’s ability to shift reality with her confidence and charisma.

“The last night of us, Bad threw me into a wall. I wish I could remember why. It seems like context would matter.”

Even in the face of physical abuse, the protagonist still tries to find a way to blame herself for Bad’s behavior.

“‘I hate this goddamned city,’ Benson says to Stabler, dabbing her eyes with a deli napkin. Stabler rolls his eyes and starts the car.” 

Stabler dismisses Benson’s empathy at an incident of violence against women, supporting the book’s key theme of male entitlement.

“A disoriented, naked, pregnant woman is discovered wandering around Midtown. She is arrested for indecent exposure.”

Machado elaborates on the book’s theme of female oppression by highlighting the gendered response to trauma on the part of the law.

“The mother of the dead girl begins screaming so loudly that her husband carries her out of the court room.”

A woman’s natural response to grief is deemed inappropriate by her husband, illustrating the book’s themes of male domination and female oppression. Here, Machado highlights the symbiotic, cyclical relationship between these two themes. 

“‘It’s not that I hate men,’ the woman says. ‘I’m just terrified of them. And I’m okay with that fear.’”

Machado accentuates the threat of bodily harm that women face day-to-day as a result of misogyny. For the character, this threat and subsequent fear have been normalized.

“Women started showing up a few years ago—they would just fold themselves into the needlework, like it was what they wanted.” 

“Real Women Have Bodies” implies that women’s oppression is sold back to them in the form of fashion.

“But she said that as long as they sought us out, it was all right. And those dresses do so well—they sell more than anything my mother has ever made before. It’s like people want them like that, even if they don’t realize it.” 

The shop manager’s willingness to look the other way regarding the female phantom-infused dresses critiques the fashion industry’s complacency toward the oppression of women.

“From the blackness of the floor, I see them all, faintly luminous, moving about in their husks. But they remain. They don’t move, they never move.” 

Through the characterization of the dresses, Machado highlights the faded women’s lack of agency and complacency.

“She always said eight bites are all you need to get the sense of what you were eating.”

The toxicity of beauty standards is not just propagated by advertising but passed down by women themselves, generation to generation. 

“Iron well, slender waist line.”

Machado points to how idealized body image is associated with mental strength in contemporary society.

“It will hurt. It won’t be easy. But when it’s over, you’re going to be the happiest woman alive.”

Machado highlights how the association between pain and beauty is normalized, both institutionally in terms to healthcare systems as well as personally, as within the protagonist’s own family.

“Men are permitted to write concealed autobiography, but I cannot do the same?”

Machado unearths the hypocrisy that women face in the creative industry: While men are heralded for writing autobiographical fiction, women are criticized. 

“How could I have known she’d shared none of my ecstasy? How could I have known that she was merely curious, and then afraid?” 

Machado touches upon the unrequited queer desire that catalyzes a childhood humiliation for CM, the protagonist of “The Resident.”

“Let me look at those pretty baby blues, he says, and her amber eyes flick upward, and different names run through their respective minds like a chant for the dead.”

Through the porn actor’s mischaracterization of his co-star, the narrative implies that women are interchangeable in mainstream pornography.