Book review: ‘Bodies’ tries to get into the minds of men

Christine Anne Foley’s debut novel defies expectations: On the one hand, a thriller full of twists and turns; on the other, a tale of rage against men who harm women. 

In the UK alone, domestic abuse has been labelled a national emergency. Two million women per year there are estimated to be victims of violence perpetrated by men.

Clever and subversive, Bodies tracks protagonist Charlotte as she navigates a series of toxic relationships with men from her early teens to her early 30s.

Her quest is not to care and to try and stay in control by any means possible.

“The not-feeling was the prize. The lack of warmth or love or even the lack of tears, this was what I chased, this feeling of pure emptiness. And I’d go home and I’d sleep well knowing that I could be that intimate, that vulnerable, without feeling anything at all.”

Vulnerable and fragile as a teenager, it takes a decade and more for her to find the courage and resolve to take control of her life. She encounters a lot of frogs along the way. Only one appears to have any chance of turning in to a prince.

Foley describes writing the book as “a cathartic experience for me, one that allowed me to release all the negative energy from my past toxic relationships.”

I couldn’t have done that without Charlotte: She’s become not just a character, but a very close friend.

The author says the book came out of pure frustration and exasperation. As a single woman in her 30s, she felt trapped and shackled to the relentless swiping of dating apps, shocked by the stories on the news of missing women or yet another violent attack by a man.

All of the feckless men Charlotte meets are very different from one another, but they have one thing in common — a desire to control her.

There’s Johnny, her first love. She was just 17 and could only pick up the courage to talk to him after downing three vodkas. 

Then comes Dave, who became something of an obsession, someone she spent every moment with, neglecting her friends and family.

Kyle, she describes as her best friend — “and that was the problem. Or at least that’s what he said was the problem, because friends can hook up but they can’t date.” 

Adam, casual and cute in an Adidas tracksuit, was meant to be someone harmless. He was anything but harmless. 

And then she meets ‘You’ and that is where the real trouble begins.

Her descriptions of close encounters are memorable, to say the least: 

“You didn’t play guitar or recite poetry, and you didn’t get drunk or look at other women. You just sat and ran your hands over my body and your breath was heavy and warm against my cheek.”

She also likes to mix it up. Vivid description of a fatal car crash that claims the lives of two brothers is followed by Charlotte ruminating on what kind of lip gloss to wear (the lighter, the better, apparently).

Bodies is in many ways an angry book, but it is more than about anger, because it is softened by tales of love, tenderness, and commitment. 

It charts encounters with men, good and not-so-good, but it is about women and how they deal with the slings and arrows of relationships or, as she graphically puts it, “situationships”.