'Creep: Accusations and Confessions' by Myriam Gurba

'It's impossible to know what people have suffered unless they tell us.'—Review #218

Oct 08, 2023

When I reviewed Myriam Gurba’s harrowing memoir ‘Mean’ a few years ago, I began the newsletter with a trigger warning about its intense subject matter, which included sexual assault and violence. Her recently released essay collection ‘Creep: Accusations and Confessions’ covers similar ground, so:

Here’s the cover:

The inside flap describes this book as a ‘blistering and deceptively playful genealogy of creeps (the individuals who deceive, exploit, and oppress) and creep culture (the systems, tacit rules, and institutions that feed them and allow them to grow and thrive).’ Murderers, rapists, racists, abusers and jerks lurk throughout these pages. The opening essay, ‘Tell,’ for example, recounts stories of men committing violence against women with hardly any consequences. They include William S. Burroughs, who shot his wife Joan Vollmer to death in a drunken William Tell scenario and went on to become a famous author. A boy playing soldier finds a real gun and kills a maid. He went on to become a president of Mexico. And an abusive former boyfriend forces Gurba to stand against the wall while he throws boots at her. Apparently, he’s still out there. Other fascinating and chilling essays discuss Richard Rodriguez (the ‘Night Stalker’ killer who terrorized California in the 1980s), Lorena Bobbitt (and the horrible abuse she endured), and a 1920s-era U.S. program to delouse immigrants crossing our southern border that used Zyklon B and inspired the Nazis. All of this information was new to me, and I was like:

There are two pieces I had previously read elsewhere: her sharp critique of Joan Didion that appeared in Electric Lit and her scathing review of ‘American Dirt’ by Jeanine Cummins. It was fun to reread them. Personal stories permeate the essays, as well. We meet Gurba’s controlling ex-wife and her cousin who fell into gang life looking for a family more supportive than the one she was born into. We see her rage at racist microaggressions—and full-on aggressions—about her Mexican-American ethnicity and womanhood from teachers in her formative years to colleagues in her professional teaching life and elsewhere. Elements of ‘Mean,’ which recounts her survival of a rape by a man who went on to murder another woman, also appear across several essays. Being reminded of that terrible experience made the final essay, also called ‘Creep,’ all the more frightening and powerful. It includes an abusive ex-boyfriend (I’m not certain if it’s the boot thrower, but they sound like the same guy) who regularly beat and sexually assaulted her. He also shares a fantasy about killing her. Gurba recounts how after ‘Mean’ came out and received positive attention, he ramped up his attacks. Her final escape was intense. When I finished the book, I was wiped out. All the experiences, anecdotes and information had me like:

‘Creep’ might not be for every reader, but it’s a powerful and important book that bears witness to awful and far-too-common realities for women. If you’re up for it, you should read this book.

How it begins:

It’s easy to get sucked into playing morbid games. When I was little, I happily went along with a few.
I played one with Renee Jr., the daughter of the woman who gave me my second perm. She and Renee Sr. lived in a tall apartment building across the street from the used bookstore where I sometimes spent my allowance. Sycamore trees towered in a nearby park, and when their leaves turned penny-colored and crunchy, falling and carpeting the grass, they created the illusion that we lived somewhere that experienced passionate seasons. Santa Maria’s seasons could be hard to detect. The closest we came to getting snow were whispers of frost that half dusted our station wagon’s windshield, hardly enough to write your name in.
Renee Sr.’s face was as gorgeous as my mother’s. The scar above her lip accented her beauty. Above her living room TV hung a framed cross-stitch, God Bless Our Pad. I sat on a black dining room chair in the kitchen, trying to look out the window above the sink. The sky was a boring blue. Cars chugged along Main Street. A gust of wind sent sycamore leaves scattering. Renee Sr. gathered my hair in her hands, winding it around rollers. The ragged cash my mother had paid her was stacked on the kitchen counter. Beside the money, chicken thighs defrosted.
My feet rubbed the spotless linoleum floor. I liked the sensation of my tight socks gliding against it.
“Hold still,” said Renee Sr. “Quit squirming.” Renee Sr. had a perm and an odd, impatient voice. She sounded how I imagined an ant would. Dangerously high-pitched. Venomous.

Who they thanked:

In her acknowledgements, Gurba thanks family, friends and institutions that helped her to write the essays collected in ‘Creep.’ I love the energy in her closing line: ‘And to everyone who got in the way of this book happening, fuck you.’

My rating:

An animated arm zig-zags into a thumb's up — GIF by @louis16art via Giphy.com.

‘Creep: Accusations and Confessions’ by Myriam Gurba was published by Avid Reader Press in 2023. 332 pages, including sources. $25.11 at Bookshop.org.

What’s next:

Before you go:

ICYMI: Review #217
'New Animal' by Ella Baxter
September 24, 2023
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Read this: The Guardian recently published this interview with actress and cooking legend Madhur Jaffrey. Her amazing cookbook ‘An Invitation to Indian Cooking’ came out 50 years ago, and it has been tremendously inspiring to me. I love to try her recipes and am gearing up to make one of the dal recipes today (or later this week). One interesting detail in the Guardian piece is that decades ago Jaffrey had wanted to write about Italian cooking, but was blocked because of her ethnicity. “They said: ‘No, you can’t. You’re Indian. You write about Asian food.’”
Cheer this: I was excited to see Emilia Petrarca shout out the New York Liberty, who are in the WNBA Finals, in her newsletter (which is great) today. Donna and I started going to Liberty games this season, and it’s been tremendously fun. My friends, you need to follow this team. The games are exciting, and the vibes are immaculate. We’ve been to two playoff games so far, and have tickets for Game 4 of the finals against the Las Vegas Aces at Barclays Center. Game 1 is this afternoon, and we’ll be watching on TV. Go Liberty!
Read this, too: I’m looking forward to reading Parker Molloy’s newsletter about Banned Book Week, and why it’s more important than ever to guard against attempts to ban books. (HT to Amani Hope for including the link in her terrific newsletter, Read Like Mad.)
In memoriam: Donna and I said goodbye to our beloved cat, Lola, this week. Lola had been with us for nearly 17 years. She was small, but fierce—and feisty to the end. She was an expert cuddler and our constant reading companion. She was also featured on our first bookmarks, and, as you can see, she loved to sit on top of books. We will miss her terribly.