Mary is a new mother transformed by the birth of her baby; Walter, a lonely gay Episcopal priest, privately struggles with his contradictory desires; and John, a monk who has left his monastery after fifteen years, craves intimacy with a woman. With mesmerizing prose, Darcey Steinke weaves together the lives of these three characters in ways that explore the intersection of spirituality and sexuality and reveal how even our rawest, most confused impulses may contain elements of the divine.
Darcey Steinke is an American author and educator known for her evocative novels and thoughtful nonfiction. She has written five novels, including Up Through the Water, Suicide Blonde, Jesus Saves, Milk, and Sister Golden Hair. She is also the author of the spiritual memoir Easter Everywhere and Flash Count Diary, a meditation on menopause and natural life. Her fiction often explores the intersection of the spiritual and the physical, with two of her novels, Up Through the Water and Jesus Saves, selected as New York Times Notable Books of the Year. Steinke has contributed essays and articles to publications such as The New York Times Magazine, The Washington Post, Vogue, and The Guardian, and co-edited the essay collection Joyful Noise with Rick Moody. In addition to her writing career, she has taught creative writing at institutions like Princeton University, Columbia University, Barnard College, and the American University of Paris. Originally from Oneida, New York, and the daughter of a Lutheran minister, Steinke now lives in Brooklyn with her husband, journalist Michael Hudson, and their daughter. A former guitarist for the band Ruffian, she continues to explore the connections between art, spirit, and human experience through her work.
I really did enjoy this book-- the characters were fleshed out in a rather uncommon and convincing way. I like reading fiction about spiritual and religious confusion. Even more, I like books that convey spiritual dilemmas in lyrical and sensual physical detail.
The only thing I didn't like about it was its kind of underlying New Yorkish glib hipness. Parts of it seemed almost condescendingly ironic, etc. At one point, Steinke has one of her characters make fun of Barbara Kingsolver's "middlebrow" THE POISONWOOD BIBLE, which irritated me, for some reason. Maybe it's just that yes, I read the Poisonwood Bible, and yes, I kind of liked it, although yes, I think maybe it wasn't very "sophisticated" and tended to essentialize, but I hate when authors make fun of each other. That seems nitpicky, but it sort of symbolizes the difficulty I had sympathizing with the characters, at times.
But still, I highly recommend this book. Mary's storyline is the most compelling of the three, for me, anyways-- Walter, the priest, is a bit irascible, and the characterization of John, the failed monk, seems a bit untenable-- but Mary's thoughts, observations, and movements are devastating and luminous--
“I understand my soul is like a piece of God implanted in me, and while it’s the same substance as God, it’s much more cloudy because it’s so hard to be human.” --I'm not sure what I could write that would better entice you to read Steinke's Milk than that quotation from the brief novel. But I will add a warning of sorts: Milk, despite its title, does not offer a big-eyed, happy approach to religion. When I assigned this book as a reading several years ago, one student told me she threw it against her dorm room wall.
Milk, it strikes me, approaches religions with the same intensity that Flannery O'Connor did in her short stories and novels. That should be warning enough. It strikes me that Ms. Steinke's novel and approach to religion is one of longing. Of longing in the persistent face of absence, and this absence comes not only from a non-answering God, but from mis-communicating people interacting with/against one another.
A fine, fast read--a one-nighter--that will challenge your spirituality.
This was a really interesting little book for horny but religious yearners. My first Darcey Steinke book was Suicide Blonde and what impressed me about that book was the character-building in such a short amount of time. Milk is shorter and I read this in about thirty minutes. Despite the short length, each of the characters is so fleshed out. Mary is a new mother who is developing a new relationship with her body. While Mary is religious, she has unmet needs, and her husband seems uninterested in meeting them. Walter is a failing gay Episcopalian priest who struggles with his contradictory desires. Finally, John is a monk who recently left his monastery and craves intimacy with a woman. The book is straightforward and exactly what the blurb says it is but it's an experience to be had. I loved the Christmas/winter vibes here. While Suicide Blonde was like a musty underground opium haze, Milk felt much more relatable as someone who is religious and a woman in the world today.
If you're a Mad Men fan, you'll probably like this book.
Follows the exploits of Mary, a religious-or-legitimately-crazy mother, John, a lost-faith-to-lust monk, and Walter, a failing, gay pastor. The events of their world are given in each character’s specific point of view, filling in their lives and telling how and why they interact with others the way they do. What is to be discovered is a painful decline of the self matched in detail with a new-dressed, wintry season culling sunlight from their desired choices and change.
Sounds interesting, right?
First, this is a character study: the plot is thin. The book has four chapters each focusing on one of the above characters.
Second, spirituality resides in description; paraphrasing: "I was having sex and it felt like a tiny god."
Third, spirituality resides in the connection: there's a priest and a monk in the story (the rabbi was at the bar... sorry I couldn't help myself)
Being interested in plot/language, the descriptions felt like a two-year old in a toy room; sometimes hitting brilliance other times... a groan that took a while to clean up. Without a strong plot, the language used is key in holding the book together and struggles with the challenge.
Character-wise, each is given a set of curiosities creating conflict. The book is less about solutions as much as sharing what each one is. This is what may hold the most interest.
At about 130 pages, this is a really quick read. I completed it between bedtime last night and this morning upon arriving at work. It's a fascinating story, a love triangle of sorts between a former monk, an Episcopalian priest, and a young mother whose world is unraveling. There's an oddly circular quality to the story, and I'm not sure I entirely understand what happened -- were there two children? Just the one? -- but the feeling of seeking and emptiness resounds strongly. An excellent first exposure to this Brooklyn-based author!
Ugh. I mean I read it. I guess it held my interest but let's just say it had a few problems. Like the ending for instance. I threw the book across the room.
There were several moments in this narrative where I was taken aback in a good way. The writing is unique and feels light with the short simplistic style of the writer even though she certainly packs in plenty of meaning/visual imagery in so few words or sentence length. She really chooses her words with care and it shows.
Pros: Writing style is interesting. Quick read/easy read. Has some great observations on divinity in everyday and even “dirty” parts of life. Offers really thoughtful and thorough character development.
Cons: The ending didn’t satisfy me at all. The ending stopped me from giving a five star review.
No modern writer does sex and religion better than Darcey Steinke. Milk is a beautiful little novel about three people searching for love and God. Mary is a new mother who leaves her husband and hallucinates, Walter is a gay Episcopalian priest who is mourning his lover’s death, lusts after boys, and is running a church that is drowning in debt. John is an ex-monk who leaves the monastery after 20 years because it did not make him feel closer to God. John loves Mary, who loves Walter, who wants to sleep with Hispanic boys. It’s complicated, sad, and beautiful.
I read this a long time ago, & I’m not sure I can say I liked it, but it was definitely memorable. It felt like a bit of a fever dream...in an aesthetically interesting, lit fic way? Very vivid language, perhaps over-emotional, straightforwardly scandalous, yet tender. It’s definitely a unique read. It’s short, too, so not a huge time commitment if you want to check it out.
Deeply and beautifully written. Character development in-depth but left me wanting to know more and how where would their story take them. I am not sure I understood it all, but I loved it. “Walter always said that the chief thing that separates us from God is the thought that we are separate from God.” See what I mean?
I read Milk as haunting and fragmented poetry about the wondrous aspects of our everyday lives. The book had such a peculiar language to it that it almost felt like a texture that I could reach out and touch. One of the most incredible reading experiences that I've had so far.
A very short book with three main characters all searching for the meaning ofspirituality and it's connection to sexuality. Never read anything quite like it but found it compelling.
Milk was not my first experience reading Darcey Steinke’s work. I read Suicide Blonde by Steinke back in 2008, and adored it, so I was thrilled about reading another book with her mesmerizing ideas and fluid writing style. Milk is about the intersecting lives of three characters: Mary, new mother, who has some personal and emotional problems; John, a former monk, who seeks the pleasure of a woman’s flesh; and Walter, an Episcopal priest, who struggles with his homosexual desires. Milk combines religion and sexuality in a way that enthralls the reader. Normally, books that have religious connotations don’t appeal to me, but Milk isn’t preachy. It merely relays the story of these three characters, and how religion factors into their lives and situations.
The characters in Milk were hypnotic in their tragic “lost” nature. They were vulnerable and flawed in a way that made it easy to connect with them because they were all ultimately searching for happiness and a place where they felt they belonged. While I enjoyed Milk thoroughly, I do feel like it could have been expanded upon. It was only a brief snippet of each character’s life and it ended without feeling finished. I was left wondering what would happen next in their live because nothing felt solidly concluded. Instead, it felt much more like a beginning.
I’d recommend Milk beyond a doubt to anyone who has enjoyed other works by Steinke, or to anyone who is looking for an exploration of sexuality and spirituality.
I don't know whether it is my aversity to anything religion/god-related, but I didn't really like this one by Steinke. Regardless of how I feel about christianity, I also found the writing a little detached and self-aware - most of the time I found myself focusing more on Steinke's sentence structure and vocabulary, than the actual book itself. I just couldn't lose myself in it. The characters didn't interest me and the plot - if you can call it that, seemed like a sketchy outline that needed to be fleshed out more. And oddly, her prose that I remember falling head over heels in love with in her other books, seemed a little contrived in this one. Like it needed more substance in between the pretty words.
I read "Sucidie Blonde" and "Jesus Saves" years ago and remember absolutely loving them, both of which involve god related themes to some degree, so I don't whether my taste has just changed or whether this book just isn't as good as the other two of hers that I have read. Maybe it was just too heavy on the god shit? And weirdly, I wasn't digging the erotica throughout either. Am I getting surlier with my old age?
I saw this little book on the library shelf while looking for another title on a Saturday afternoon. On my way home from the library I stopped at one of my favorite bars, one that gets good afternoon sunlight, and read the whole thing. On Sunday I reread my favorite parts. Today, Monday, I bought a copy on Amazon.
This is not a fun read. Everything is struggle, even (sometimes) joy. The story captures a couple months in the lives of a few people who live with as much awareness of their own and others' flaws and perfections as anyone can. Maybe it is this awareness that makes even their joy somehow earned, which is no less real than the unexpected, unearned kind.
This is called Milk: A Novel, but maybe should be called Milk: Three Short Stories. I bought this because Darcey Steinke read at CalArts and said it was inspired by the idea that all sex is divine/holy. I liked this idea. I liked this book insofar as it was like looking at people through windows. But I found the writing to be very aware of itself. Or maybe I was very aware of it as writing. I really liked Mary as a character, but I wanted to be in her head more- Seeing her so much from the outside, I couldn't form an opinion about whether she was tapped into the divine or totally nuts. I wanted to believe the former, but didn't really have enough evidence either way.
This is a depressing jaunt inside the minds of confused folk. people should read this lady's bookstuffs. This is not the one I would start with, but it is the one I would finish with-- that says a little, right?
I checked out this book because it's small and fits nicely on the elliptical machine at work.
It's sort of an R-rated Francesca Lia Block book, all about beautiful images with substance a little lacking. But I have a soft spot for lonely gay men and lonely single mothers so I didn't hate it.
Best lines in the book: "Kathy's head moved up and down like the needle in a sewing machine, and her eyes were open, the pupils dilated big as dimes. On the nape of her neck was a small scar. Pleasure had been rerouted over humanity and he wanted to try and change that." (107)
I don't know whether to think of this book as a reiteration of the Canaanite coupling of religion and sex or a presentation of Sensucht, in which the unconsolable longing for our true country and Father is dimly revealed through sexual desire.
I got this book from our local library and as I was reading it .. I realized that I read this one many years ago .. that time I got it from Vancouver Public Library .. it is a very short book and I enjoyed it as much as I did the first time.
This made me rethink my own spirituality. Fully perceptive on how our spirits and bodies are inescapable from each other. I've read it twice and every time I hit the last page, I want more.
Beautiful prose. On first read, I found myself getting lost in Steinke's mastery of craft more than I was in the content. This is one I will want and need to read again...and again.