43 pages • 1 hour read
Rachel YoderA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Over the phone, Nightbitch tells her husband about the dogs on her lawn, and how she now wants one. However, her husband makes no effort to grasp their significance to her, and tells her to leave them alone. As Nightbitch says, “he didn’t understand anything, not her sadness or her anger, not why the dogs had been so oddly disturbing” (64). In contrast, Nightbitch feels that the dogs do understand her, although she also realizes that she cannot explain any of this to her husband.
Nightbitch wonders about Wanda White, author of the Field Guide to Magical Women, and who she is. She finds that White is part of the philosophy department at the University of Sacramento. Nightbitch locates an email address and sends her a message. She asks White if her research is true in a “scientific and rational sense” or whether it represents an experimental “performance” of scholarship to make a broader point (70).
In the middle of a deep sleep, Nightbitch is awoken by the sound of dogs scratching and huffing outside of her bedroom window. She goes out to meet them, finding that they are the same three dogs from the previous day. The dogs pull and rip her clothes off with their mouths and push her onto her hands and knees. At this moment, Nightbitch starts to feel like a dog, experiencing no thought, only instinct and the power of her body.
Nightbitch wakes up the next morning and discovers that her clothes are whole, despite the rending of them by the dogs the previous evening. She feels “a near religious ecstasy,” experiencing a new strength and love in her body (75). Nightbitch eats raw steak and finds a pile of dead animals left outside her door by the dogs.
Nightbitch and her son go to an upmarket café that they like. Nightbitch discovers a profound delight in eating meatloaf and devours it in an animalistic fashion, drawing attention from the other diners. She barks, with her son mimicking her, and for the first time she genuinely enjoys being a mother. An old woman greets her in a friendly way, and Nightbitch reflects wistfully on her poor relationship with her mother.
Nightbitch tells her husband on the phone about the pile of dead animals, but he is uninterested. She sends another email to Wanda White in which she asks White about the relative values of art and motherhood, and whether motherhood might in fact be more important.
Nightbitch stays in her house, playing joyously with her son, feeling that she is now undergoing a deep emotional transformation alongside her physical one. Nightbitch starts to strongly identify with her body and the animal instincts that are part of it. She feels that she is becoming a better mother because of this change.
In the evening, Nightbitch reads a passage from White’s book that discusses the magical powers available to mothers. These stem, White argues, from the primal need of the mother to care for her young, and from the liminal place she occupies between the animal and the human. White goes on to say that most mothers are unaware of their powers.
Nightbitch’s husband returns home on Friday evening to discover, in place of his wife, an enormous wolf-like dog sitting beside their son. Unbeknownst to him, Nightbitch is this dog; she has entirely transformed. Nightbitch, in dog form, snarls and sprints out of the house.
As a dog, Nightbitch defecates on the lawn of an old man she does not like. She wanders through the park, chasing and killing a rabbit with her mouth. She buries the rabbit, “her treasure, her prize” (91), in her back garden and curls up in the grass to sleep.
Nightbitch wakes up after her night as a dog, feeling both more awake and alive than she had since the birth of her son, despite getting only a few hours of sleep. She goes inside her house to shower. She feels a “profound sanity” overcoming her, and lies in bed between her husband and son.
Nightbitch is vindicated by her transformation. She feels that her growing hair and teeth were part of a real process and not illusory, and that she was right to be angry about sacrificing her career while her husband continued his. However, Nightbitch still feels that she cannot tell her husband any of this as he might make her see a psychiatrist.
In the morning Nightbitch’s husband confronts her about her absence the previous night. Nightbitch refuses to explain or apologize, recalling that he never apologized for knocking over and killing her peanut plant. Her husband says that he “was afraid for a second you were that dog” (98), and they laugh together and sit on the floor telling stories. Nightbitch and her husband then make love more passionately than they ever had before.
On Monday morning, with her husband leaving, Nightbitch feels resentment and that their recent “honeymoon” is over.
Nightbitch goes to the library to meet other women and prove to herself that her perception is not breaking from reality. There, she sees Jen, “the Big Blonde,” and other mothers. Jen gives Nightbitch her card for her herb-selling business. Nightbitch notices that Jen has the same smell as one of the dogs that came to her house.
Nightbitch receives a message from Jen asking if she wants to attend an herb-selling seminar, to which Nightbitch responds “maybe.” Nightbitch goes to the park beside the library with her son and plays uninhibitedly with him, pretending to be a dog. The other children there join in the game, gleefully following Nightbitch as her “pack.” When these children have gone, Nightbitch catches and kills a bird with her mouth.
Nightbitch takes her son for a communal hike and is worried when her son insists on behaving like a dog. With her son playing “doggy games,” Nightbitch speaks to an unbothered Jen, who invites her again to join her herb-selling group. Jen reveals that the group is really just about escaping and relaxing for a few hours.
When she gets home, Nightbitch is annoyed by the formulaic message from Jen about the herbs, which seems to have been copied and pasted from a recruitment magazine.
Initially, it is unclear whether events are supernatural or a product of Nightbitch’s imagination. For example, it is strange when the three dogs appear on Nightbitch’s lawn, seeming to understand her and beckoning her to follow them. However, this incident can still be explained within the laws of reality, and by Nightbitch’s projection and desire to escape.
The same cannot be said of later events. When the same dogs wake Nightbitch up, then push her onto her back before stripping her naked, Nightbitch starts to question her perception of reality. As she says, “what she was seeing simply could not be real, had to be a waking dream” (72). Dogs, in the real world, do not act in such a way with humans and their clothes. They do not try and make an unknown person, in such an explicitly intentional way, behave like a dog. The unreality of the situation is emphasized the next morning: Nightbitch wakes with her clothes on and by the pile of dead animals left outside of her door. These events are inexplicable, blurring the distinction between dreams and waking states, the world of the human and that of the inanimate or animal.
The novel escalates the magical element. Nightbitch believes that the women from Book Babies are the dogs that visited her. Jen, “Big Blonde,” has the same smell as the golden retriever. The Book Babies women, as dogs, are like the women described by Wanda White in Field Guide. Many of the women in White’s book occupy a liminal state between the bestial and human, like a Bangladeshi woman “who was reported to appear sometimes as a playful mongoose and other times as a mother” (112).
Then, most dramatically, there is Nightbitch herself. After the second encounter with the three dogs, she gains “independent control of each of her ears” (73), and the power to fully inhabit the identity and life of a dog. She roams the streets at night, defecating on lawns, killing animals with her mouth, and howling. She even starts behaving like a dog with her son, playing with him as a dog would and licking his scalp like a dog with its pup.
None of this alarms Nightbitch, as “she understood she should be scared but simply wasn’t” (75). On the contrary, her encounter with the dogs, and her fully becoming a dog, gives Nightbitch a newfound sense of joy and clarity. When having to return to human life after her first night as an animal, she compares her situation to Eve’s exodus from the biblical paradise of Eden. She identifies the human world with shame and propriety, and the animal world with freedom. Having to be clothed becomes a symbol for confinement, of having to live up to socially prescribed ideals.
In contrast, the world of nakedness, which pre-exiled Eve represents, is one of release. It is a return to the freedom and joy of instincts and the body. As Nightbitch says, after her night as a dog, “she felt she could safely trust her instincts and judgment from here on out, even if at first such instincts seemed insane” (94). Her body no longer has to be constantly checked and controlled by thought. She can suspend her rationality, aimed at ensuring that she acts according to societal norms, rather than how she feels. Instead, she can listen to the wisdom of her body and primal urges.
This realization positively impacts other aspects of Nightbitch’s life. Most notably, she feels that embracing her animal side allows her to become a better mother. As she says about playing with her son, “all too often her efforts were uninspired and weary, unable as she was to shirk the burdens of adulthood and reality” (114). Social expectations of how she should be playing with him restricted her, and the sense that play was an obligation. By trusting her instincts as a mother, letting go, and being joyfully present in the moment, her son also takes new joy in their play. Unconcerned by what others think and playing “doggy games,” stalking each other, barking, and rolling around, they forge a deeper bond. Indeed, when they are playing in the park, other children feed off this energy. These children form a “pack” of dogs, “feral and barking” behind Nightbitch and her son; this breaks down the idea that play and parenthood are strictly about isolated parents and children (115). Here, Nightbitch disrupts another ideal of “normal” parenting and shows how motherhood and play can be communal and spontaneous.